Unfinished Us.✔️

Chapter 28.

Song:- Tere Siva Jag Main (Cafe Edit)(Darshan Raval).

Salted wound (Sia)

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Third POV.

(MATURE CONTENT 18+) Read on your own risk...

"Sorry."

He whispered it like a vow, his lips brushing against her forehead. A word that had lived inside his chest like a caged ghost for four years—finally free.

In that moment, he meant every syllable. With his soul. With the weight of every silence he had buried between them.

His fingers caressed her jaw as she lifted her face to meet his eyes. What he saw in her gaze wasn't hatred—it was worse. It was pain. And that pain mirrored his own, like two reflections staring back at each other from cracked glass.

"Just for today," he promised himself silently. "Let her see me... all of me."

His reasons.
His scars.
His obsessions.
His love.
His truth.

Because in four long years, no one had held him—not once. The world had seen Arjun Rajvansh, the name, the power, the armor. But not the man who shattered when she left. The man who gave up everything the day he heard the faint heartbeat of Aryana, his uncle's unborn child. A child not his—but one he'd protect like his own, just to keep the wolves at bay.

Anaya's voice broke through his spiral, a soft breath brushing his skin.

"You look so much in pain, Mr. Rajvansh... It's like I'm looking into my soul in your eyes."

And then—she giggled.

But it wasn't happiness. It was broken laughter, the kind that comes from remembering how perfect the illusion once was.

"They say time heals everything," she said, taking his hand and placing it against her heart. "But I'm still in pain. Right here. Still broken."

His palm grew slick with sweat.

"Why don't you hate me?" he whispered hoarsely. His grip on her waist tightened. He needed to hold her. Anchor himself to her heartbeat.

She looked at him with hollow eyes. Not anger. Not affection. Just emptiness.

"Hate you?" she whispered, her voice delicate like shattered glass. "No... I hate myself for loving you."

Those words cut deeper than any blade.

Tears slid down her cheeks as her forehead dropped to his chest. He held her as tightly as he dared—like she might vanish if he loosened his grip.

And maybe she would.

He lifted her into his arms. She didn't resist. Not this time.

In the car, she leaned into him, her fingers brushing his face as if memorizing it. Her touch was warm, feather-light, setting fires in his veins.

"Your face..." she giggled, tipsy, innocent, devastating. "...is the most beautiful face I've ever seen."

But the words she'd whispered earlier echoed in his head:
"This face reminds me of the girl who died four years ago... because she fell for it."

Arjun clenched his jaw. He was the reason for her nightmares.

Yet here she was—again—so close, so vulnerable, so heartbreakingly his.