Not yet.
45
RUDRAKSH
These past two days have been exhausting. Ever since Shivani confessed, things have been awkward between us. I hate it. Every interaction feels heavy with unspoken words and unaddressed emotions. I catch her stealing glances at me, looking for some sign that I’ve changed my mind. That I’ve figured it out. That I suddenly know how to feel the way she wants me to feel.
But I haven’t. Not yet.
I try to act normal, pretend everything’s fine, but the distance between us keeps growing. She’s been avoiding me—making excuses, finding reasons to stay away. And that’s the last thing I want. I want her to come to me. I want me to be her safe place, her comfort, not the reason she hides.
And God, I hate the look in her eyes—the quiet hurt behind that forced smile she wears. It’s like a damn knife twisting in my gut every time I realize I’m the one causing it. I know I have feelings for her; it’s not that I don’t. It’s just… every time I think of telling her, every time the words form on my tongue, my past creeps in. The fear comes roaring back, and I give into it.
I trust Shivani. With all my heart, I do. But the ghosts of betrayal haunt me. And yet, she fights her battles every single day—battles I see even when she pretends they don’t exist. She chooses me, even when I don’t make it easy. I owe her more than this silence. I owe her the truth. Vulnerability. The husband she deserves.
Because the thought of losing her? It terrifies me more than anything else. She’s woven herself into every corner of my life, and I don’t know when it happened. I just know I can’t let her go. Her being in my life is a luxury I can't afford to lose. She is everything. She is in the air I breathe; she is in the meetings. I don't know how. But she is always there, her smile, her words, her encouragement. She has been clinging to my every breath, and I can't undo it; she is everything I need.
I walk towards our bedroom, finally ready to say what’s been burning in my chest. I walk in with determination, with the courage to talk to her—to let her in. To actually give her the part of me she deserves to know.
As I enter the room, I find her sitting on the bed, reading a book. The moment she hears me, her eyes snap up and she shuts the book quickly. We stare at each other for a second. I don’t move; don’t look away. But she breaks the moment, placing the book on the side table.
“Good night, Rudra,” she says, faking a yawn and giving me a tight-lipped smile before turning away on the bed.
“I need to talk to you,” I let out with a quiet huff, tired of this distance between us, my voice quiet but firm.
“There’s no need to talk,” she whispers, not meeting my gaze. “I still love you, and it’s okay if you don’t.” My heart clenches at her words. There’s a familiar dullness in her eyes, theonly thing she had when she met her parents, and now I am the reason it's there.
I wonder how she will react when she finds out what I did to her parents. Even though they deserve it, I don't know if it was right of me to not even inform her about her parents; she should have a say. But I don’t want those monsters or their thoughts anywhere near my wife. She did this to me. Before her I never contemplated my decision, but now she makes me think about things that should not matter.
“My parents couldn’t love me, Rudra,” she says softly, the pain laced in every word, pulling me out of my thoughts. “I can’t expect anyone else to.” Her voice is so low, so full of resignation, and it cuts through me like a blade. A pang shoots through my chest. How many times has she told herself that? How many times has she believed it?
“Shivani,” I call out, my voice lacing with urgency, walking toward the bed. “It’s not that I don’t love you. I care about you more than anyone else. But I’m scared.”
She looks up, eyes searching mine. “Scared?” Her voice is fragile.
I nod and sit down on the edge of the bed. Slowly, I reach for her hand and hold it gently, giving it a small squeeze. I don’t look at her right away—I don’t think I can. “I was nineteen when I first fell in love,” I admit, my voice low.
She inhales sharply but stays quiet, listening. “I met her in college. In a fest. I was a fool." A sigh escapes me before I can stop it. My throat feels tight, as if there are thorns in my throat. "I trusted her blindly. ” I skip the irrelevant parts.
She places her other hand on my back, rubbing small circles. That simple gesture—God, I didn’t even know how much I needed it.
“I don’t want to go into the details,” I tell her, finally looking at her, trying to smile, but it’s weak. “All I can say is... she betrayed me.” I look away, jaw tightening. “Scammed me would be the right word."
“What?” She breathes out, confused, her hand pausing against my back.
“She saved my... sperm,” I inform quietly, shame crawling over me. I have never talked about it before with anyone else except my parents, “From the condoms I threw away.”
She gasps, her face a mixture of shock and horror. “She blackmailed me for money,” I say, closing my eyes. “Said she’d impregnate herself. Told me she’d ruin my life.”
The memory still makes me nauseous. It makes me feel... small. Stupid. Used. Worthless. I can’t trust anybody. It was such a low move for her to do, but I was at fault. I trusted blindly. I let it happen.
“I did everything she said,” I continue, my words almost breaking. “I was terrified. She had all this proof, and I was naive. I didn’t know what to do. Eventually, I told my parents, and Papa paid her off. But by then, the damage was done.”
I look at Shivani again. Her eyes are wide, full of disbelief, but also... softer. They hold empathy. Compassion.
“Rudra,” she whispers, her voice breaking. “I had no idea.”
I nod slowly. “I’ve never told anyone about this. Not even my closest friends. Only my parents know. It’s not something I’m proud of.”
