Heartbreak and Happiness

It didn't take long before my mom arrived at the college.

The moment she saw me lying there in the medical room—bruised, bandaged, and barely able to sit upright—her face crumpled with shock and heartbreak. She rushed to my side, knelt beside the bed, and held my hand tightly as if afraid I would vanish if she let go.

Tears welled in her eyes, but her voice was firm.

"That's it, Rohan," she said softly, yet with a fury burning beneath her calm tone. "This is enough. We're pulling you out of this college. Right now. We can't keep you in a place where teachers are this careless… where students are allowed to beat someone half to death without fear or consequence. You're our only son. We won't let you suffer like this again. Not here."

I didn't have the strength to argue. And honestly… for a moment, I didn't want to.

But just then, the door opened.

Simmi walked in.

She looked tired but focused, her eyes filled with concern.

"Aunty," she said respectfully, "I think… before making any final decisions, you should talk to the Principal. Please. He needs to hear what happened—and so do you."

My mom glanced at Simmi, uncertain.

"I've already sent Rohan's uncle there," she said. "He's speaking to the Principal right now."

Simmi nodded. "That's good. Then I'll go too—I want to be there."

She left, her pace quick and determined.

My mom and I remained in the medical room, waiting in silence for my dad. She sat beside me, gently stroking my hair like she used to when I was a child. Her hands trembled slightly. I could feel how scared she was—how helpless she must have felt after getting that call. And even though I couldn't say much… I understood.

Then, the door opened again.

Nikhil walked in.

There was no anger in his face now. No fight. Just quiet concern.

"Ma'am," he said gently, looking directly at my mom, "Principal Sir has asked for Rohan. He wants to speak with him."

My mom frowned. "He's in no condition to walk, Nikhil. Just look at him. He can barely sit up."

And before she could say anything else…

Nikhil stepped forward.

Without a second thought, he leaned down and carefully lifted me into his arms—like I was something fragile, something that needed protecting.

"I'll carry him," he said softly. "He needs to be there."

For a moment, my mom just looked at him—surprised, perhaps even unsure.

But then she saw it.

In his eyes.

That rare emotion that no words could fake: genuine care.

She saw the pain in his expression, the way he held me like he had failed me once, and would never let that happen again.

She nodded.

And together, we left for the Principal's office—Nikhil carrying me the entire way, like it was his responsibility now. Maybe it was.

When we arrived, Anant, Ruchika, and the rest of their group were already standing there—lined up in silence, faces pale, eyes lowered. The atmosphere was thick with tension. Shame lingered in the air like smoke after a fire.

Principal Sir looked up from his desk the moment we entered.

His eyes settled on me—bandaged, weak, in Nikhil's arms.

"Rohan," he asked firmly, "was it these students who attacked you today?"

I turned to Nikhil, who gently placed me in the chair beside him.

And then… I nodded.

I didn't say a word.

I didn't need to.

That one small movement was enough.

The Principal's face tightened. His hand slammed on the table.

"That's it. I've had enough of this nonsense!"

He stood up and turned to the group of students in front of him.

"You're all rusticated," he declared. "Effective immediately."

Gasps echoed around the room.

But before anyone could say anything else—my mother stepped forward.

"Sir," she said quietly, "Please don't. Don't rusticate them. Just… talk to them. Warn them. I don't want anyone's future to be ruined because of what happened to my son. No matter what they did… I don't want them to lose a year because of him."

Her voice was calm, but it carried immense weight. Dignity. Grace.

Even I looked at her in surprise.

So did everyone else.

There was silence.

And then… something incredible happened.

One by one, Anant, Ruchika, and the others turned to my mom and me.

And said softly, sincerely…

"We're sorry."

Not fake apologies.

Real ones.

Their heads bowed. Their voices low.

Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was shame. Or maybe… for the first time, they realized what their actions had truly cost someone.

Principal Sir watched all this in silence, his expression unreadable.

Then he spoke again.

"I respect your grace, Ma'am," he said, addressing my mother. "But I can't allow this behavior to go unpunished. They may not lose the year… but they are no longer welcome in this institution—except during exams."

He turned to the group.

"You may not enter college before your final tests. Until then—consider yourselves suspended. One more incident… and you're out for good. Is that clear?"

No one argued.

No one protested.

They just nodded, ashamed.

And slowly, they left the office—faces lowered, voices silent.

Then, my father arrived.

He walked straight up to Nikhil, took a long look at him…

And then pulled him into a hug.

"Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you for protecting my son."

Nikhil didn't say anything.

He just nodded.

My dad turned to me, gently lifting me from the chair.

"Let's go home, Rohan," he said softly.

I looked up at him—at the man who had always been my protector—and whispered:

"Yes, Dad."

And as he carried me out of that office…

I realized something.

This wasn't just the end of a dark chapter.

It was the beginning of healing.

The beginning of truth.

And maybe… just maybe…

The beginning of something stronger than fear.

As we made our way home, the tension in the air had begun to ease, though the weight of the day still lingered. I sat in the back seat, my body sore and fragile, while my parents drove in silence. But beside me, Simmi sat quietly for a moment before her voice broke through the stillness.

"You know..." she began, softly but sincerely, "I misjudged Nikhil. So badly."

She glanced at me, eyes thoughtful, and continued, "The way he stormed into the canteen… the way he fought—not for revenge, but for you. The way he stood up to Anant, broke Ruchika's phone, and made sure everyone knew the truth. He didn't care about rules, he didn't wait for permission—he just did what had to be done. He protected you when no one else could. Not even me."

I listened in silence, each word soaking into my heart like warm sunlight after days of cold.

"I always thought he was dangerous," she admitted, "Someone who brought trouble wherever he went. But today… I saw something else. I saw a brother, a warrior, someone who carries more pain than he shows—but still chooses to shield the ones he cares about. I was wrong about him, Rohan. I was so wrong."

Her words hung in the air.

And as I sat there, staring out the window at the moving world beyond the glass, something stirred deep inside me.

Something new.

Something hopeful.

Like a gentle breeze sweeping through the ruins of a storm, her words planted the seeds of possibility in my heart. I had seen the same Nikhil she spoke of—fierce, protective, and burning with a silent kind of love that didn't need to be spoken to be understood.

And in that moment… a thought bloomed in my mind.

Maybe, just maybe, he wasn't the villain I had feared.

Maybe there was more to him.

More than pain.

More than mystery.

More than mistakes.

And for the first time in a long while, I felt something flicker inside me.

A small, fragile hope.

A second chance.

A new beginning.

A place in my heart that once felt too broken… now quietly dared to believe again.

To be continue....