I say nothing, completely consumed by his words. How does he say these things so easily? He’s so shameless.
When I’m done, he gets up as he looks at me and tells me. “I’ll change and come to bed, okay?”
“Your dinner?” I ask.
“I’ll eat later. I’ve got work, but I just wanted to make sure you sleep well.”
He disappears into the closet. I watch him go, and guilt creeps in again. He does so much for me. Calling myself a burden would be an insult to all that he’s done.
He comes back wearing a black shirt and grey sweatpants—his usual sleepwear. He looks…delicious. What the hell, Shivani? Not the time to think about that, Shivani. But it’s hard not to when he’s this close.
I’m still sitting in the same spot, lost in thought, when he walks over and climbs onto the bed, sitting beside me silently.
The silence between us is thick, heavy with something I can’t name. Finally, he breaks it.
“Lie down, baby,” he says softly but firmly. I obey, lying beside him. Butterflies swirl in my stomach at his command.
He tugs me gently into his chest, his hand splaying protectively over my back. His heartbeat thuds softly under my cheek—steady, anchoring me—and mine thuds against my ribs. Loud and clear.
Nuzzling into my hair, he whispers, “Don’t ever do this again. Your health matters more than anything.”
He tightens his grip, and it’s both comforting and a little possessive.
“Promise me,” he says, his breath warm against my ear, “you won’t skip meals or starve yourself again.” His voice drops with command as his breath ghosts over my skin.
A shiver runs down my spine. I nod with assurance. “I promise,” I whisper.
He pulls me even closer, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on my back.
“I’m sorry,” I say, guilt bubbling up again. I hated how tense he looked at the hospital. I want to be his peace, not his stress.
“I overthink a lot,” I admit.
“It’s okay. I’ll over-explain,” he replies near my ear. “A lot,” he adds, and I shudder.
“My mother probably didn’t mean anything… It was just my mind playing tricks,” I lie. I can’t let him go near her. She’ll tell my father, and I don’t want to face him. I don’t want Rudraksh to get hurt either.
“She just wants what’s best for me,” I add quickly.
“Let’s sleep, Shivani,” is all he says.
Why does it feel like he doesn’t believe me?
I hate lying to him, but I can’t risk it—not yet. Not when I don’t even know how deep my parents’ manipulation runs. I will tell him everything one day, when I know it’s safe.
When I know he’s safe.
27
SHIVANI
My husband has been FaceTiming me every day just so that we can have lunch together. He makes sure I don’t skip breakfast or dinner either. After that little incident, he makes sure I eat, always.
At first, I felt like I was just getting in the way of his work—that he was going out of his way for me when he didn’t need to. I even thought he didn’t trust me, like he was watching over me just in case I broke my promise again.
But Rudraksh reassured me. He admitted that, yes, in the beginning, it was about making sure I was eating. But now? Now he does it because he genuinely enjoys it. And really, who am I to stop him? The more time I spend with him, the more I want to know him. There’s something comforting about discovering someone layer by layer.
Like the fact that he’s a perfectionist—not just when it comes to work, but in every aspect of his life. Like his cupboard always stays organized in a particular way. He wants to excel at everything he does. He’s extremely particular about things and, to my surprise, quite judgmental too. I couldn’t believe my ears when he started gossiping with me about his cousins. I just stared at him, stunned.
