Chapter 45 : They talk...

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" You're awake?"

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a delicate glow over the hospital room. Abhishek stirred, his eyelids fluttering open, and the world slowly came back into focus. There, by his bedside, sat a masked man, wearing a hat and a pair of  shades. The face was well hidden, but  Abhishek  was all too familiar, with the curves and contours that lay behind the mask. There was no doubt, this  man was Siddharth.

"Abhi.... Umm, Mr. Mehta?" Siddharth was recovering from the initial surprise, and was working up his  facade  back on. Abhishek  had enough of it, and snapped

"Oh come on Siddharth, you and I both know who you are!"

Siddharth's heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, he couldn't find the words. Caught in the unscripted reality of Abhishek waking up, Siddharth's carefully crafted plans seemed to crumble. Without a word, he pulled off his mask and his shades. Seeing that particular face that his dreams were made of, after almost a decade, made Abhishek choke.

"It's you. It's really you," Abhishek's voice, though feeble, carried a resonance of disbelief and something else – a profound realization.

Siddharth, unable to maintain his facade, met Abhishek's gaze. Recognition sparked in Abhishek's eyes, and a myriad of emotions flickered across Siddharth's face – guilt, fear, and a yearning that had been buried for a decade.

"I..." Siddharth began, his voice faltering. "I never meant for you to find out like this."

Abhishek struggled to sit up, and Siddharth instinctively moved closer, as if drawn by an invisible force. The air in the room felt charged with unspoken words, the weight of ten years of separation hanging heavy. 

"Why did you leave?" Abhishek's question lingered, cutting through the silence.

Siddharth sighed, looking extremely guilty. "I thought it was the only way to keep you safe."

Abhishek's gaze bore into Siddharth's, searching for answers that had eluded him for years. "Safe from what?"

"The consequences of the crime that neither of us committed, but you shouldered," Siddharth admitted, his eyes reflecting the scars of a decade spent in shadows.

A silence settled between them, pregnant with the weight of unfinished conversations and unresolved emotions. Abhishek, weakened by illness but strengthened by the years of longing, reached out and touched Siddharth's hand.

"Only for you, to  plead guilty at the end," Abhishek said softly. "You were my home, Siddharth. I would have gladly done that and more, for you"

Tears welled in Siddharth's eyes as the truth, raw and unvarnished, hung in the air. There was no more room for evasion, and for the first time in ten years, Siddharth faced the consequences of his choices.

"Yeah, but the point is, you did not have to!!The charges were against me, And I would have cleared them, myself!  You did not have to put the blame on your head." Siddharth lashed out, tearing up.

"I know, I was not being rational at the time, but that did not give you the right to just run away after all that! And you just faked your own death! I agree, it all worked out in the end,  but why did you have to  keep up the facade  for all these years? And why did you never think of letting me know? At least that you are alive?" Abhishek  yelled, the  bottled up  anger and frustration from all the years pouring out.

Siddharth did not have an answer for that. He was too ashamed of himself, at that moment. Abhishek  was glaring at him, and he could not bring himself to meet his eyes. So, he lowered his gaze, and mumbled in a weak tone.

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