Her breath hitches. Another tear falls, this time without resistance.
“I’m not an easy man, Aditi. All I’ve ever known is pain, silence, trauma that echoes when I try to sleep. I’ve never loved someone. I don’t know how. So I understand if you can’t… if you won’t…”
Her hand curls tighter in mine.
“You deserve someone who knows how to love. Who doesn’t come with broken edges and sharp memories.” A sad chuckle escapes my lips, “Anyways, you’re out of my league.”
“Stop,” she whispers.
“But if—if you can let me in,” I continue, heart pounding, “if you can teach me how to love you, I’ll learn. I’ll fight every instinct I’ve ever had just to be better for you.”
She lets out a shaky sob and falls to her knees in front of me.
“I’m sorry,” she cries, “I’m so, so sorry.”
I look down at her, stunned.
“I walked away. I didn’t even give you a chance to explain. I just—left. I told myself it was strength. That I was taking control. But truth?” She laughs bitterly, wiping her tears. “I was scared. You broke me without meaning to, and I didn’t know how to handle that.”
“I don’t blame you.”
“I blamed myself,” she says, voice thick. “I thought maybe I was foolish to believe we had something real. But I could not stop feeling the way I feel for you,” She smiles softly, “It scared me, I have never felt so strongly about someone.”
I lift my hand and wipe her cheek gently.
“And I never stopped needing you.”
I hear a cough behind her, I look up to find a woman smiling as she looks between us. Aditi almost stumbles as she gets up and I hold her hand tightly so she doesn’t fall, she wipes her face with the other hand and turns around, “Bhabhi,” she exclaims, “Abhimaan, this is Shivani Bhabhi,” she introduces, “Bhabhi this is my boss, Abhimaan,” Shivani smiles at me sweetly.
“And also the reason behind all the crying yesterday?” She wiggles her eyebrows and I physically see Aditi turn red.
“Bhabhi,” she yells as she rushes towards her, “He is just a tough boss and I was tired of his shit,” Aditi tries to cover up. I chuckle.
“I agree,” I say, “I can be a bit uptight.”
“A bit?” Aditi gasps, “You are VERY uptight,” she rolls her eyes, but I can see the smile she is trying to hide.
“You manage my uptightness well though,” I look into her eyes, amused by her remark.
“That I do,” she flips her hair, Shivani laughs beside her.
“Is it okay if I call you Abhimaan?” Shivani asks.
I nod. “I came here to apologize for my daughter’s behaviour, she told me, it’s safe to say, she has been educated on how to wake someone up,” Shivani smiles apologetically at me.
“It’s okay,” I say, as I get up from the bed, suddenly feeling a bit awkward. I don’t usually have much human interaction, that too this domestic kind.
“You can freshen up and meet us downstairs for lunch?” Shivani asks. My eyes travel to Aditi who is noticing the interaction between us. I don’t know what to reply, am I supposed to have lunch with them? I am not very human friendly, and it’s her family, so I don’t want to impose anything unless she wants me to be here.
A warm breeze stirs the edge of the curtains as Aditi says those words, her voice soft but sure: “He will have lunch with us.”
Something loosens inside me. Not entirely, not all at once—but a thread that’s been pulled taut inside my chest for weeks begins to ease. It’s not the lunch. It’s not even the invitation. It’s that she said it. She wants me there.
I nod—more to her than to Shivani—and Aditi gives me a small, reassuring glance, the kind you give a skittish dog who's finally come close enough to take food from your hand. I return it with a weak smile, unsure of how to handle any of this warmth curling around me like sunlight in a place long shut off from it.
Shivani, perceptive and smiling, nudges Aditi with her elbow. “I’ll go down and prep the table,” she says, and before turning to leave, she winks at me. “Don’t take too long. Rudrani’s been preparing her ‘magic show’ for you.”
My brows lift. “Magic show?”
