Part 5 : The Silent Bride

🌧 Part 5 — The Silent Bride

The entire day had passed at Dr. Dipal’s house.

But when night came, no matter how much everyone insisted, Dr. Kim refused to stay any longer.

By evening, Megh and Dr. Kim checked into the luxury resort suite he had booked earlier — a place dripping with elegance and silence.

Megh hadn’t spoken a word since they arrived.

She sat quietly in one corner, hands clasped, her eyes wandering across the lavish room that felt nothing like home.

Dr. Kim had gone out, leaving her alone with her thoughts — heavy, tangled, and painfully alive.

Around 11 p.m., the door clicked open.

Dr. Kim entered, followed by two young attendants carrying heaps of shopping bags.

At his gesture, they set everything down and left.

He turned to her, his tone polite but distant.

> “Everything you might need is here.

I hope you find no inconvenience.

Go, change, and freshen up.

It’s been a long day — have dinner and get some rest.”

Megh didn’t move. She just stood there, silent.

After a moment, Dr. Kim asked quietly,

> “Do you have your passport?”

She nodded.

> “Yes, I have it.”

> “Good,” he said, folding up his sleeves.

“I’ll inform the embassy and arrange your visa.

It may take a day or two.

But don’t worry — we won’t stay here long.

Tomorrow morning, we’ll leave for Dhaka.

I don’t feel comfortable here either. This place feels… off.”

Megh hesitated for a long moment, then whispered,

> “May I say something?”

Dr. Kim sat down on the couch, looking at her.

> “Go on.”

She fumbled for words.

> “About what happened that day… I acted recklessly.

But I don’t want to be a burden to you.

I’ll go to Dhaka with you tomorrow, but I can’t go with you to your country.”

Her voice trembled as she continued,

> “You’ve already done more than enough for me. I’ll never forget that.

But after tomorrow, we’ll part ways — you’ll go your way, I’ll go mine.

I can take care of myself.

I don’t want your life to get complicated because of me.”

When she looked up, expecting some response —

she froze.

Dr. Kim was scrolling through his phone, completely detached.

Had he heard a single word?

Megh called softly,

> “Dr. Kim…?”

Without looking up, he tossed his phone aside and said coldly,

> “Go freshen up and have dinner.

And remember — I always maintain time.

Don’t even think about being late.”

Then, after a pause, his tone sharpened.

> “And one more thing — I dislike repeating myself.

So don’t make me.”

For the first time, Megh really looked at him — at the calm face and the chilling authority behind it.

His eyes held no anger, no softness — only control.

She realized speaking further was pointless.

All she could do now was obey.

---

✈️ Seven Days Later — Dhaka International Airport

They stood side by side, waiting for the final call to board.

The air was heavy with silence.

Megh kept turning back, again and again — her eyes lingering on the land she was about to leave forever.

This was her birthplace — her chaos, her comfort, her home.

And now she was walking away from it, perhaps for good.

Tears welled up as she thought of Mehul and Ohona.

She hadn’t spent even a single night apart from her sister before.

Now it had been seven days — seven endless days of silence.

She didn’t even know if her sister was alive, or how she was coping.

> “Sir… may I please call my sister once?” she asked softly.

Dr. Kim slipped on his sunglasses and said flatly,

> “You must not have heard — dead people can't speak.”

The words cut through her like a blade.

She froze, her lips trembling, unable to reply.

He checked the boarding passes and said briskly,

> “Everything’s ready. Let’s go.”

Megh felt restless, trapped.

A wild urge rose within her — to run, to disappear.

But where would she go?

She couldn’t go home.

And staying meant eventually running into Borshan again —

the man who had loved her, then destroyed her.

Her heart twisted.

Could she ever live without him?

He was the only man she had ever loved — with her whole being.

But then she remembered his words — cruel, doubting, unforgiving.

A bitter smile touched her lips.

> “Let’s go then,” she said quietly.

Maybe leaving was easier than remembering.

But memories are cruel —

they never leave when you tell them to.

---

🛫 In the Air

This was Megh’s first flight.

The moment the plane lifted, her heart began to pound violently.

Her palms were cold. Her breathing uneven.

The fear grew until she felt she might faint.

Dr. Kim sat beside her, reading a magazine —

as if the world could end and he wouldn’t notice.

Suddenly, Megh screamed and clutched his arm tightly, trembling.

> “Sir, please tell them to stop the plane! I want to get off!

I can’t do this — I’ll die!”

She spoke in Bangla — he couldn’t understand the words,

but her terror was unmistakable.

The passengers turned, staring.

The scene was awkward, chaotic.

Dr. Kim sighed softly, then reached across and pulled her into his arms —

his voice low, steady.

> “Don’t be afraid, Megh.

Look — I’m right here with you.

Nothing will happen. You’re safe.”

Megh’s eyes stayed shut tight.

> “Sir, I have acrophobia! I can’t… I’ll die!”

He held her closer, whispering near her ear,

> “Don’t panic. You’ll be fine.

I’m here. Trust me — nothing will happen to you.”

For a brief second, she opened one eye and looked at him —

his expression calm, reassuring.

Outside the window, clouds drifted like white cotton over endless blue.

When the plane tilted slightly, Megh flinched and clung tighter.

> “I’ll fall, I know I’ll fall! Please tell them to stop!”

Dr. Kim murmured, almost dryly,

> “If they stop now, you won’t go home — you’ll go straight to heaven.

So stay still and don’t say a word.”

Her nails dug into his neck, but he didn’t flinch.

He just sat quietly, letting her cling to him until exhaustion replaced fear.

After nearly nine hours, the plane finally landed in Seoul — just before dawn.

---

🏠 At Dr. Kim’s House

By the time they stepped outside the airport, Megh looked drained — pale, hollow, silent.

A man ran forward.

> “Sir, are you all right?”

Dr. Kim didn’t respond. He just walked to the car and sat inside.

Megh stood like a lost child, unsure what to do.

The driver glanced at her curiously.

> “Sir, is she coming with us too?”

One sharp look from Dr. Kim, and the man fell silent instantly.

> “Get in,” Dr. Kim said curtly. “I have to go to the hospital.”

Megh hesitated, then quietly sat inside.

She noticed the driver’s lingering stares in the mirror — she ignored them.

When the car stopped before a massive, elegant mansion, Megh’s eyes widened.

She had only seen such houses in dramas and movies.

Inside, the place gleamed — polished marble, grand chandeliers, silent maids.

Dr. Kim tossed his blazer onto the couch and called out,

> “Ahjumma (Aunty), did you do everything I told you?”

A middle-aged woman bowed slightly.

> “Yes, Baba. Everything is ready.”

> “Good. Show her to her room.

And make me a strong cup of tea before I leave.”

The woman nodded.

> “Right away”

She turned to Megh with a kind smile.

> “Come with me, please.”

Megh followed her quietly.

Her room was two doors down from Dr. Kim’s —

a beautiful, perfectly arranged space that felt too perfect to touch.

> “Freshen up,” the woman said softly. “I’ll bring your breakfast.”

Megh said nothing and walked into the bathroom.

For nearly an hour, she stayed under the shower —

as if the water could wash away her pain.

But the more she tried to forget, the clearer everything became.

When she finally came out, she felt empty — like a ghost of herself.

Outside, the woman waited politely.

> “Shall I serve your meal here, or will you come downstairs?”

> “I’m not hungry,” Megh said weakly.

> “Sir asked me to take care of you,” the woman replied gently.

“He’ll leave for the hospital soon. Please eat before that — it’s for your own good.”

Something in her tone made Megh uneasy.

Why insist so much?

Wasn’t refusing food her own choice?

> “Please come now,” the woman urged softly. “Sir will be here any moment.”

Downstairs, Dr. Kim was already at the dining table, checking his watch.

The moment Megh sat down, he said sharply,

> “You’re late. Since it’s your first day, I’ll let it go.

But from tomorrow, even a single minute late — and you’ll skip your meal.”

Megh’s eyes widened.

Was he serious?

The woman tried to intervene.

> “But baba, she’s a guest. Isn’t that rule too strict for her?”

Dr. Kim’s gaze turned cold.

> “You know how important discipline is to me.”

The woman fell silent. Megh looked down at her untouched food — her hunger vanished completely.

When Dr. Kim left for the hospital, Megh sat alone in her room, staring blankly.

Even eating was a challenge — she had never used chopsticks before.

She tried, failed, and gave up.

During the seven days in Dhaka, they had barely spoken three times.

She had thought Dr. Kim was simply quiet — calm, serious, gentle.

But now she knew — he was calm like a storm before destruction.

Behind that serenity hid something darker.

Strict rules. Cold eyes.

A life run by clockwork and commands.

> “He’s not calm,” she whispered to herself.

“He’s… a perfectionist. Or maybe… a psycho.”

Just then, someone knocked on her door.

It was the same woman.

> “You haven’t changed yet? There’s food on your dress. You barely ate earlier.

Freshen up, I’ll bring something else.”

Megh sighed.

> “How will I live here?

I can’t even speak freely to anyone.

They don’t understand me — and I don’t understand them.

How long can I survive on stiff English phrases?”

The woman chuckled softly.

> “You can talk to me if you wish.”

Megh froze — the words were in perfect Bangla.

Her heart leapt.

Without thinking, she hugged the woman tightly.

> “Oh my God — you speak Bangla!

I thought I’d never hear my language again!”

The woman smiled, startled but touched.

> “We’ll talk later. For now, go freshen up.

Sir doesn’t like lateness. You must learn to keep time.”

Megh laughed weakly.

> “All right. But please — don’t call me ‘ma’am’

Call me by my name like a mother would.

My name is Megh.”

The woman smiled warmly.

> “Such a lovely name.

People call me Mrs. Ahmed now.

But once, I had a different name — though no one uses it anymore.”

> “What was it?” Megh asked gently.

“Don’t you have any family?”

Mrs. Ahmed smiled wistfully.

> “That’s a story for another day.

For now, go. Freshen up.”

Megh grinned softly.

> “Dr. Kim calls you Ahjumma.

Can I call you Mamani instead?”

Mrs. Ahmed chuckled.

> “Of course, dear. You can call me whatever you like.”

As Megh disappeared into the bathroom, Mrs. Ahmed looked after her —

a shadow of sorrow in her eyes.

And Megh thought, Maybe my life won’t be easy here.

But she had no complaints.

After all, for someone like her —

Dr. Kim’s mercy was already more than she ever expected.

---

(to be continued…)

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