Part 30

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"Hello..."

Sunita had no intention of allowing Vikas to complete his sentence or allow him to prepare he had coming his way. "What were you even thinking, Vikas? How the hell did you end up with a conclusion that it would somehow benefit Asmita to counsel her own culprit?"

Vikas, startled by the suddenness and shrillness of his childhood friend, pulled the phone away from his ear. He pushed the patient's file lying in front of him onto his desk and leaned into the backrest of his plush chair. He had expected her call when the receptionist informed him about Asmita leaving with Daksh, and it did not take long for him to connect the dots.

"You think I would choose to do something harmful to her, Sunita? I want the best for her, and I want her to recover from the horrific trauma she endured," he said, gazing at their photo on his desk.

They had plastered smiles on their lips that day; nothing unlike their usual routine. He had not forgotten her flinching and the rapid blinking of her eyes in apprehension when the photographer asked them to move closer for a better picture.

The contrast it had presented as compared to their college times, when she pulled him to unexpected hugs, trampled upon his heart and had set it on fire. The effects of post-traumatic stress disorder were no news to him, but to see them ravage the woman he had cherished all his life had hit a nerve he had least expected.

"And yet she's forced to relieve the trauma by talking to him, Vikas! Why?! I want to know what convinced you to believe it would work!"

A vexed sigh escaped his lips, set into a thin line. "She blames herself for whatever happened, Sunita. She thinks she was an easy target for him and she did not stop him. I wanted her to absolve herself of that guilt! She's not responsible for his crooked thinking, and I want her to understand that."

Sunita's furious and stiff features softened as the unmissable breaking of his voice and his raspy tone carried the undercurrent of melancholy straight to her aching heart. "She regrets not finding her voice to shout for help! How did I miss her transition of a chirpy butterfly creeping back into its cocoon, Vikas? Was I blinded by my elation to marry the love of my life?"

Sunita's lower lip quivered, and she stifled her repentant sobs. She dug her nails into her palms, breaking her skin and almost drawing blood, but she could not care less. The film of tears in her downcast eyes blurred her vision.

"You couldn't have seen it coming! I tried to prod her during the festivities of your wedding, Sunita. She had blamed herself to an extent she did not want anyone to learn of what had happened."

The haunting flashes of the yesteryear inadequacy resurfaced as the shackles binding him at the floor of an ocean of unfathomable depth. His present self let out a condescending laugh at the naivety of his past self to believe he could ease her agony if he learned the root of her misery. Little did the zesty friend know of the demons ravaging his friend.

"That's why when Neerja suggested it's best to continue the sessions, I agreed with her. Besides, she did her MBBS and MD in Psychiatry and I have done B.Sc and M. Sc in Psychology, so I trusted her judgment."

"I don't know, Vikas. I understand she needs a closure, but it doesn't feel like the best way out. That man is a shameless sham of a man. He brought a new girl home every week for the past six years after acting like a heartbroken lover for the initial two years and withholding the truth from everyone. I don't want him anywhere near her!" said Sunita, gritting her teeth and crushing her dress in her fist as she glared toward his room.

Vikas's eyes widened for a few moments before he shook his head at the rather predictable behavior of Daksh Malhotra. "Asmita has another session with him next week. Let's see if she improves or worsens! And if it worsens, I'll get a restraining order against him. But, if by some stroke of luck, she improves, it will give us all a reason to celebrate."

Sunita surrendered to the full force of myriads of thoughts surrounding her. Her remorse, her fury, her fear and her anguish pulled her each in a different direction, but she found hope pulling her towards reluctant acceptance of Vikas's idea. "Sounds like a plan!"

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"I don't understand. Why do you feel guilty? Because from what you told me, you did not have any quandary before giving your reins to the obsession."

Daksh scrambled and struggled to find the answer to the questions posed by Asmita. "I.."

"Let me phrase it this way. When did you realize you were guilty of your actions?" she asked, her poise and composure rattling Daksh in ways he could not comprehend.

The sight of her tremulous eyes and fidgeting fingers had roused his electrifying emotions about her years ago, and the present visual of her accusing and sharp gaze with her intertwined fingers resting on the desk had roused fear in him.

"Uh, I..."

"Not too far back in the past that you cannot recollect, I'm sure," she said, with a derisive smirk stretching on her lips with a mocking glint to match in her eyes.

"Well, uh, Amit had a breakdown when he was drunk. He blamed me for the death of Nani, our sister leaving our home, and for the marital discord between Sunita and him. He believed my actions towards you caused every tension in the home. He was relentless in his words, and that's when it hit me."

Asmita arched her eyebrow and gave him an affirmative nod. "Nothing untrue, I see. So, when did this happen?"

"About a year ago," he said, with his eyes expressing his confusion.

Asmita disentangled her fingers from each other and drummed them against the desk in a haphazard manner. "So, that's what this is, then. You wanted to get rid of fingers pointed at you, so you played this masterstroke because it would stop your brother. At least out of pity."

She scoffed at him and her upper lip twisted in disgust. He shrank into his seat and shifted with discomfort etched into his features. "I read your therapy notes. 'How could she..', 'Blowing it out of proportion..', and 'no one wants to understand me' appear to be your most common phrases to describe the situation. No wonder your previous therapist referred you to me. Because those, right there, are hints of narcissistic personality disorder, which is my field of expertise. Such an irony! The victim is now the expert of the topic!"

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And we have a diagnosis! I think hundreds of male leads fit into the diagnosis of Narcissistic Personality Disorder, and yet they are 'heroes' and worth glorifying -_-

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