Chapter 189 - Hug me, please (1) (1/2)

| Innaya |

Sometimes I wonder how my life would have turned out had I not met Eshan. A small voice always keeps telling me that we were destined to meet. There was something strong, an unexplainable force that always pulled me towards him and I could not find words to pinpoint what exactly it is.

Destiny never played fair. When you think everything is going peacefully, a wave of misery hits you with full force.

I locked myself inside the washroom, refusing to go out and witness my husband with his friend who seemed to be having some different intentions altogether. Why did she have to jump in our life now as if we were already having any fewer issues?

A lot had been changed in the past one month.

A lot.

The choice I had made a month ago had come with its repercussions and one of them was... Eshan had grown distant from me.

Having PTSD had always made things problematic for me and even though, with Eshan's help, I was getting better, one incident, one choice, one argument and I was back at the square one.

Normal people would never understand the struggles of a PTSD patient. We get better. We stay better. But it's never permanent. It never is. It takes us a mere something to go back to being awfully awful.

People might find that irritating, unrealistic and annoying but then, this is reality. This is how PTSD patients suffer for real. I wished people understood that it's nothing like what they show in movies. You are never really out of it. You are never really over your past.

You continue to suffer. You continue being awful. You continue to accuse. You continue to get accused. You continue to spoil your relationsh.i.p.s even though that's the last thing you want to do and you continue to... grieve over the broken pieces of your relationship that you yourself have broken.

I splashed water on my face over and over until I felt the calm of cold water relaxing my tensed muscles.

Pressing my hands on the corners of the sink, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. What had I really become? Why could I never get better? Why did Eshan have to face because of my PTSD?

I could never really come out of the guilt. It was always somewhere deep inside me. I always felt that he was too good for me. Too good literally.

I reached out for the hand towel to wipe my face dry.

I had just begun working on myself and this... Ayesha appeared out of nowhere and I could just feel that she was here to mess up our already messed up life. I could just feel it. She gave me that vibe.

Ayesha. Ugh. She was making me realize time and again that Eshan and I... we weren't blissfully happy together.

”Innaya.”

I heard a knock on the door followed by his voice. A tear trickled down my cheek when I didn't hear the same warmth in his voice that I always would.

I wiped the tear before I adjusted my hair and stepped out.

As I was out, I was met with his eyes that scanned my face almost as instantly as they fell on me.

”Have you been crying?”

I did not respond to him and rather went to straighten the already neatly arranged bedsheet. ”No. Why would I be crying?”

”You have an issue with Ayesha staying with us?”