It’s out.
No dramatic music. No fireworks. Just my heart laid bare in the quiet of the night.
His breath catches—just a fraction. I see it. Feel it.
“You don’t have to say anything,” I add quickly, before he can speak. “I didn’t say it expecting something in return. I just… I needed you to know. Because you deserve to know.”
The wind picks up for a second, carrying the silence with it.
Then he shifts toward me. Slow. Unhurried. Like he wants to make sure I have time to stop him if I want to. I don’t.
He leans in until his forehead touches mine. And we just… stay like that. Breathing the same air. Sharing the same space.
“I don’t know what love is, Aditi,” he says finally. His voice is a whisper, but it hits deep. “I didn’t grow up with it. Not the kind that stays. Not the kind that’s safe.”
My fingers twitch in my lap. I want to reach for him, but I wait.
“But I do know,” he continues, “that I can’t imagine a world where I don’t see your face first thing in the morning. Or hear you complain about cold coffee. Or talk to that cat like it understands every word you say.”
I laugh through the ache in my throat. He smiles, eyes crinkling slightly.
“I don’t know how to define love. But if it’s about needing someone more than you ever expected to… if it’s about feelinglike you can finally breathe fully just because they exist… then I guess…”
He cups my cheek with one hand, gentle but steady.
“I guess you are the definition of love for me.”
He leans in and kisses me. It’s not rushed. Not fiery. It’s slow. Intentional. Like he’s learning the shape of something precious.
And when he pulls away, our foreheads still touching, neither of us speaks. We don’t need to. There’s something about this silence that feels full. Whole.
And for once, I don’t feel like I have to pretend. I just breathe. And stay. With him.
CHAPTER 49
ABHIMAAN
The thing about love is—it doesn’t come to you with fireworks and brass bands. Sometimes, it just settles into your bones, slow and deep, like a song you didn’t know you’d memorised.
That’s what last night felt like.
Aditi saidI love you.
And I forgot how to breathe.
I’ve always thought I was the composed one between us. The one who keeps his head, plans ahead, never shows too much, neverfeelstoo much. But with her, all my systems crash—every time. Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it hit me like a punch to the chest. Because she meant it. And she said it without expecting anything in return.
“I just felt you deserved to know,” she’d said.
And I—I fumbled. Not because I didn’t feel it. I feel too much when it comes to her. It’s just… I don’t have the language for love. Not the kind she deserves.
But I told her what I could. The only truth I know:She’s it for me.
I haven't slept much since. Not in the restless, haunted way—but in the way your chest feels too full and your mind keeps running laps around the same thought:This is real. She loves me.
And now, this morning, she said she wants to tell her family.
It shouldn’t mean this much. But it does. It means everything. Because Aditi’s world—her people—they matter to her in ways I can’t even measure. And the fact that she wantsthemto know aboutus... that she wants to tie me into the roots of her life...
