Unfinished Us.✔️

Chapter 30.

𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑾𝒂𝒔 𝑩𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝑩𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉

Song:- Six feet under

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Third POV.

Arjun huffed, his chest rising and falling like a man suffocating under the weight of his own truth.

The very truth he had sworn never to speak—the one that chained his soul in silence for four years—was now burning on the tip of his tongue. If not now... he'd lose her. Forever.

"You never asked," he began, voice hollow. "Why didn't I stop you that day... when you left."

Anaya's breath hitched.

But it was the next word that shattered her control.

Love.

"You know what I love most about you?" he whispered.

Her fingers tightened around the edge of the duvet. Her heart thudded painfully against her ribs. Love. He had never said that word. Not once. Not during their marriage. Not in the shadows of their stolen moments. Not even when she had given him everything.

He had only ever claimed her like possession. But never like love.

And now... this?

She didn't dare look at him. Because if she did, her resolve would break. And after what happened last night—after surrendering herself again to him in a moment of weakness—she couldn't afford to crumble.

Not again.

She hated herself for being so vulnerable. So naïve. So hopeful.

He huffed, running a hand through his hair, pacing like a man on the brink.

"You never demanded anything from me. Never. You gave and gave... and I just—" His voice cracked. "I was one of those selfish bastards who broke the only woman who ever truly loved me."

Her body turned slightly, facing away. She didn't want to hear him speak about her kindness like it was a mistake. About her love like it was charity.

Tears silently rolled down her cheeks. He used her. Again.

She had told herself she was stronger now. That she wouldn't fall for the same man twice. But last night proved otherwise. And now, the shame sat inside her like poison.

"Why?" His voice broke the silence again. "Why didn't you ever confront me, Anaya? Why didn't you scream? Slap me? Hate me?"

The pain in his voice should have softened her—but it didn't.

Because she had screamed. Every night. In silence. When no one could hear her. When the world had moved on and she had shattered in the dark.

Another tear slipped from his eye.

"She was pregnant," he said, voice barely audible. "And I had to protect the baby. I didn't care about Ruhanika. I would've never given a damn. But then I held her—Aryana—in my arms. Tiny, fragile... and I knew I had to protect her. Love her. The way you taught me to love."

Anaya's heart burned at his words.

Love.
Protect.

Words he had never offered her. Words he now used for someone else's child.

She closed her eyes, trying to block out his voice. But then—

"Even though she wasn't mine... she became mine the moment I held her."