Night of 25TH

CHAP 39: Scars of Love

Past :

Shubman

Closing her eyes tightly, she took a deep breath before opening them again. In one swift motion, she gulped the remainder of the ice cream, as if trying to calm herself. Quickly, she cleaned her hands with a tissue, tossed it into a nearby dustbin, and then turned to face me. Her gaze was fixed on me as she posed a direct question, "What feelings do you have for her?"

"We're on good terms, but after the breakup, I learned some things. I wasn't the only one she was with," I confessed, my hands trembling as I shakily exhaled, my gaze lost in the view outside the window, blurred by unshed tears.

I felt Chucky's small hand gently taking mine, holding it within both of hers. Looking at her, I continued, my voice heavy with the weight of my emotions. "Even with everything she did, I can never truly hate her. A part of me will always have a soft spot for her. But the other part, the part that was meant to love her so dearly, is completely shattered. It doesn't wish to forgive her ever. She scarred it forever."

Gently running the pads of her thumb under my eyes, she wiped away the tears. "Do you think the memories you had deserve a beautiful second chance, and should you let them justify what she did to you, or should you just tell her straight away, no?"

"I don't know; it's so hard. Those memories are so beautiful, but they're scarred. Even though it would be like stitching the body after surgery, the mark would always be there," I said, clutching Chucky's hand tightly, almost breaking as I revisited the memories. Still, she didn't complain, just listened to me.

"But it does offer you a new lease on life. Now, the choice is yours: whether to embrace and love that scar or to diligently cleanse it in pursuit of closure," she wisely advised. As I looked at her, my eyes travelled to her skin, and I noticed stretch lines. Tracing them gently, I asked in a meek voice, softened by tears, "How do you have these on your skin? You seem fit, and it doesn't go with your body."

She looked at me, tears in her eyes, smiling and chuckled. "Well, life has poked me every now and then since I was fifteen."

"What do you mean?" My voice trembled as I considered the possibilities of the challenges she might have faced. The thought of her suffering made my heart ache.

"Did someone..." My voice turned angry, thinking someone might have hurt her, but she cut me off.

"Oyee koi haath laga ke dikhaye, muh na tod du uska. I think I gave you a show too that night," she said, her eyes piercing into mine with ferocity, but it softened, replaced with a sad chuckle. "These marks indicate my internal battle."

"And what might that be?"

"My immunity – ghar ka bhedi lanka dhaye," she laughed, using a metaphor to convey the challenges she faced within herself.

"What does ..." even before I could complete the sentence, her fingers hushed me.

"Shussshh, are we here to talk about you or me?" Her eyes held an unknown emotion, one I couldn't quite grasp. They often danced with a feeling that she kept hidden in her heart. Every time I tried to decipher it, she was quick to turn away.

"So, I was saying, you should hear her out, listen to what she has to say," she urged, turning around abruptly before I could catch a glimpse of her eyes, now fixed on the road ahead. Whenever I attempted to decipher the emotions behind her gaze, she consistently responded by diverting her eyes or turning away.

"But you know the things she did to me," I muttered, my breath altering.

"I know, but let's hear her side of the story. Then you can decide what to do. After all, even criminals get one chance to confess," her voice trailed off as she tenderly placed her palm on my cheek, wiping away the last of my tears.

Leaning into her touch, I rested my face on her palm, planting a soft kiss on it.

"Pyaar thoda bach ke rakh, kya pata dono wapis date karo," she teased, wiping her hands on my pants.

"I hate you," I said, manoeuvring the car out of the parking spot.

"Ohh boy, you love me too much," she leaned over, poking my cheeks.

I smiled as her touch stirred a deep sense of love throughout my entire being. My sister's observation rang true—I admit I can be a bit slow when it comes to matters of the heart. If only I had realized the significance of those emotions on that particular night.