Yours insanely

37.No hope left

You fell asleep that evening and woke up at night.

Shubman was still holding you as he slept, not wearing his suit anymore and changed into different clothes. T-shirts, sweatpants, should've felt like home.

But you jolted up, breathing heavily as you looked around the dark room, your movements waking him up too.

Once your vision got adjusted to the pitch black night, your hand reached out for the water bottle that was placed on the nightstand.

Shubman left for five minutes as you slept in the evening, firing eight gunshots, and bringing the water bottle and antibiotics to your room.

He had a feeling that you'd wake up in the middle of the night. So he was prepared.

You took the lid off the bottle hurriedly, chugging the water down as he sat up.

"Baby, slow down," he tried telling but you had already started coughing from the lack of breathing.

He patted your back, helping you calm down before he got the empty bottle from your hand and placing it aside.

Was it all a dream?

Your hand shot out to your neck and you felt the dressed wound.

It was not a dream.

You were sitting with your back facing Shubman, not responding to his touch caressing your arm as a gesture of solace.

After a few minutes, you pushed the comforter away and got off the bed, your feet automatically taking you to the terrace attached to the bedroom.

He followed you silently, settling beside you on the couch as you let yourself be wrapped in his arms again.

You looked up at the sky, leaning back on his chest and holding his hands that were around your waist.

And you kept thinking about it again. How would it feel to be a star?

Shubman stayed awake with you for hours, even though you didn't even speak a word.

At the crack of dawn, you fell asleep and he carried you back to bed.

By evening, you woke up again and took a cold shower.

Then he brought you food to eat, feeding you and making sure you took the antibiotics while the doctor cleaned and dressed your wound again.

When it was night again, you stayed awake on the couch in the terrace. And Shubman stayed with you.

This pattern repeated for two days.

You never spoke a word. You didn't take a step out of the room.

It was like you had lost complete faith in something. All that's left was your hopeless self.

The third evening, Shubman found you awake, but on the terrace as you waited for the sunset. So that you could look at the stars again.

He's gone three days without hearing your voice, despite any gesture or words from him. And he can't live with himself for another minute if it continues.

"Baby," he called as he placed the blazer away, letting you know of his presence.

You turned your head to face him, not saying anything as your eyes followed his actions.

Holding your knees close to your chest, you watched him sit beside you on the couch and wrap his arms around you.

You let go of your knees, laying your head on his shoulder instead.

Again, you said nothing for a while.

"I suppose you knew him," Shubman started, referring to the incident in the parking lot.

You nodded a little, holding his hand as you looked down. "I did."

"Who was he?" He asked and you intertwined your fingers with his briefly.

"My uncle," you mumbled, letting go of his hand. "My mother's brother."

"Why is he after you?" He asked again, fingers clasping around yours, letting you know that you never had to let go of his hand.

"Revenge," you said and took your head off his shoulder. "I should've told you sooner."

"Why would he want revenge on you?" Shubman asked while you moved a little so that you could face him.

You looked around, not with the intention of finding anything. "You can tell Shahneel and Ishan. I don't want to tell them myself or talk about it again."

He noticed your palm shake a little in his hands, making him grip it tightly in an assuring manner.

"You can hate me after this," you said without looking at him.

"I would never hate you," Shubman replied, placing a kiss on your hand that was in his.

Raising your head after a few seconds, you looked into his eyes as he waited patiently, finally saying the one thing you've been wanting to tell him for a long time.

"I killed my mother."