Chapter 5: When the Storm Hit
Aarohi tried to keep her smile alive as she left the building that evening, but her heart felt heavier than it had in weeks.
She had finally told someone — the truth she had been hiding even from herself. And somehow, it had been him.
Reyansh Malhotra. Her boss. Her unexpected confidant. The only person who didn’t flinch when she said she was dying.
But that night, sleep refused to come. The words of the doctor echoed in her mind like an endless storm.
Four to five months. No cure. Only time.
She pressed her palm against her chest, her heart racing painfully. “You’re okay… you’re fine…” she whispered, trying to convince herself. But she wasn’t. Not anymore.
The next morning was worse.
The office was bright, busy, alive — but she wasn’t. Her breath kept shortening, her pulse spiking. She gripped her desk tighter, willing the dizziness to fade, but the world spun faster. Her lungs refused to cooperate.
Not now. Please, not here.
Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. Her hands trembled uncontrollably. Tears stung her eyes. She felt trapped in her own body.
And just then, the door opened.
Reyansh walked in, mid-call, his tone clipped and professional — but the moment his eyes found her, everything about him changed. The phone slipped from his hand.
“Aarohi?” His voice dropped, urgent and steady. He crossed the room in seconds. “Hey, look at me. What’s happening?”
She tried to speak, but all that came out was a whisper. “I… can’t… breathe…”
Without hesitation, he knelt beside her, his voice gentle but firm. “Aarohi, it’s okay. You’re having a panic attack. Listen to me. Focus on my voice.”
Her tears blurred everything. “I—I can’t—”
“Yes, you can,” he said, locking his eyes with hers. “Breathe with me. Inhale… slowly… now exhale.”
His tone was low, rhythmic, like the world had narrowed down to just his voice.
“Inhale,” he murmured again, “and exhale. Good… that’s it. You’re okay.”
She clutched his sleeve, grounding herself in his calm. Her chest still hurt, but the panic slowly melted away, replaced by his presence — solid, safe, and steady.
Minutes passed before her breathing steadied. When she finally looked up, her eyes were wet. “I’m sorry,” she said weakly. “It happens sometimes. The doctors said it’s part of… my condition.”
Reyansh shook his head. “Don’t apologize.” His voice was soft, protective. “You don’t have to hold it together all the time.”
Her lips trembled. “I hate this feeling. I hate that my body’s giving up before I am.”
“You’re not weak,” he said instantly. “You’re fighting harder than anyone I’ve ever met.”
Their eyes met, the air between them heavy with emotion. For the first time, the steel in his gaze softened — replaced by something raw, something human.
He brushed a tear from her cheek with his thumb. “Next time it happens,” he said quietly, “call me. I don’t care if it’s 3 a.m. You call me, Aarohi.”
Her voice shook. “Why are you being so kind to me?”
He gave a faint, sad smile. “Because maybe you’re the only person who’s ever made me feel something real.”
The words hit her like a heartbeat. She looked away, tears glimmering. “You’ll regret saying that one day.”
“Maybe,” he said softly. “But not today.”
That evening, Aarohi sat by her window at home, watching the sunset burn the sky orange. For a moment, she let herself breathe again.
But her peace didn’t last long.
Atharva knocked on her door gently. “Hey, little sister. You okay?”
She quickly wiped her tears. “Yeah, just tired. Long day.”
He stepped inside, holding two cups of coffee. “Here. You look like you need it.”
“Thanks, Bhai.” She smiled faintly, taking a sip — then winced as her hands trembled.
Atharva noticed. “Aaru… you’ve been off lately. You barely eat, you’re always pale, and you flinch every time I mention hospitals.”
“I’m fine, really—”
He cut her off, his voice rising slightly. “You’re not fine.” His tone cracked, and that’s when she realized — he already knew.
Her breath caught. “Bhai…”
He looked at her, eyes glistening. “I saw your reports, Aarohi. The ones you hid in your drawer.”
Her eyes filled instantly. “You weren’t supposed to see that.”
“How could I not?” he said, voice trembling. “You’re my little sister! How could you think I wouldn’t notice something was wrong?”
She looked down, tears spilling freely now. “I didn’t want anyone to worry. Maa and Papa would break, Bhai. I couldn’t do that to them.”
Atharva sat beside her, pulling her into a tight hug. “You idiot,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “You think I won’t break knowing you’ve been going through this alone?”
She sobbed into his shoulder. “I didn’t want you to see me like this.”
He held her tighter. “You’re still the same Aarohi to me. My little sister who laughs too loud and dreams too big. Heart disease or not — you’re not alone. Ever.”
They sat like that for a long time — silent, broken, but together.
When she finally pulled away, she whispered, “Please don’t tell Maa and Papa yet.”
He nodded slowly. “Okay. But promise me you’ll let me help you this time.”
She smiled weakly. “Promise.”
Just then, her phone buzzed. A message from Reyansh:
You okay now?
Her lips curved into a small smile as she typed back:
I’m better. Thank you… for earlier.
Atharva noticed the soft look on her face. “Who’s that?”
“Just… my boss,” she said quietly, but her cheeks said otherwise.
He raised an eyebrow. “Right. ‘Just’ your boss.”
She laughed, nudging him lightly. “Don’t start, Bhai.”
But deep inside, even she didn’t know what this strange new connection with Reyansh meant — only that every time she talked to him, her heart felt alive again.
Later that night, Reyansh stood by his window, staring at the same moon that glowed over Aarohi’s house.
He didn’t know why he cared this much, why her pain felt like his own. But one thing was certain — he wasn’t going to let her fight this battle alone anymore.
✨ To Be Continued… ✨
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