Her Secret

Chapter 1 - Her Secret

" WHEN SHE DOES THAT, IT'S NOT JUST SHIVERS THAT RUN DOWN YOUR SPINE "

He stood in his room, facing towards the wall behind his bed. His eyes focused on the silhouette of the woman painted on the wall. Her face tilted backwards as she laughed, a serene smile adorning her lips. Her hair swayed behind her as she ran. Her eyes were painted closed and even if they did, no painter could ever paint them the way they were for him.

His eyes traced her every curve, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. He had her memorized, The shine of her eyes stored behind his, her silky voice still stuck in his mind, the way she smiled still ran in his mind, his hands which were addicted to her frame still craved her touch.

She was everywhere, around him and inside him.

He kept staring at her, his blue eyes turning icy and watery as time passed. The eerily familiar ache in his heart returned and he felt the first droplet of water leave his eyes. His mind started playing tricks, his eyes started to see her around him, on the bed reading her favourite book, in front of vanity fixing his tie, drying her hair, on the balcony gazing at the view ahead.Everywhere. She was everywhere.

And just like all those sleepless nights and haunting days, the same question circled his mind as he felt his control break. Why? Why did she leave? The insecurities he had thrown away returned to him gleefully as he fell on his knees. His heart breaking with every passing second, questioning his love, their love.

He was broken, she broke him.

Every day, every night, every single second in this room suffocates him.

He can see her at every nook and corner of the room, her scent still lingering in the air. Her clothes still scattered in the closet, her makeup still on the vanity, the small box of sindoor still lying on it's place, her books still mixed with his. He could feel her everywhere.

And as much as it killed him to reminisce her, it would kill him if he forgot her.

Because forgetting her is not even possible for him after death. His love, his desire, his obsession with her can never end. It can only increase and even if it hurts him, breaks him and tears him apart, it is the only thing that's keeping him, The Shivaay Singh Oberoi alive and breathing.

" It's been so many years, " He whispered, " And you're still not back Anika. " His voice cracked as he blinked back at the painting. His heart broke with every breath he took because it hurt to breath without her by his side. He tried everything, did everything he could, searched for her like a mad man, went insane in her search but still had no clue about where she was.

She had vanished from his life and his family like thin air. If anything that keeps him at bane are the monthly letters he gets on every 16th, describing how she would want that day to go. 16th, a date so important to them. On every 16th of the month they used to spare the day for themselves, because with the busy life they had, it was almost impossible to take a break but this day no work was meant to interfere.

And these letters which always came from a different address, written in his favourite handwriting and filled with her essence were what he used to survive. Even if a gesture so little, it made him carry hope that their love is still instilled in her and that she has not forgotten him. These letters help him build himself up every morning when all he wants to is crumble and lie in his sheets.

" It's hard sweetheart, living without you is so fucking difficult. " It took everything in him to not fall on his knees, to breath, to not sob, to not let anyone know of the inner battle inside him. It took so much for him to continue his life back outside, show the world how indifferent he can be and that her presence is forgotten when all he remembers is her.