𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓S

⚰UNFORSEEN LOSS-CHAPTER-27

Third pov:

Tears streamed down Meera's face as she stumbled through the front door. Her chest heaved with sobs, her cheeks wet, her heart thudding like a drum. Anjali was by her side in seconds.

"Meera ma, what happened?" her mom asked, voice tight with panic.

Meera didn't answer. She just collapsed into her mother's arms, her sobs breaking open in the silence of their home. Naveen rushed in from the hallway, eyes wide, followed by their grandmother, who held the armrest with a trembling hand.

"Akka?" Naveen's voice cracked. "Tell us what happened... please."

Meera's voice was barely a whisper, broken and thick. "Appa... he knows everything."

The words hit like a punch. Anjali flinched. Naveen froze. The room fell deathly still, filled only with Meera's muffled sobs.

And then the voice came. Low. Bitter. Burnt.

"So..." Kumaran stood in the doorway, arms crossed, pain etched deep in his face. His eyes glinted under the dull light, and he let out a humorless laugh, slow claps echoing off the walls. "I'm the clown in this circus, huh? The only fool left in the dark."

He stepped forward, stiff and cold. His eyes scanned the room—Meera's red face, Anjali's trembling lips, Naveen's confusion—and stopped on his wife.

"You knew," he said flatly. "Didn't you?"

Anjali tried to speak, but no sound came. Her lips quivered, her hands twisted in her saree. Kumaran didn't wait. His eyes turned to Meera, and the weight in them made her shrink a little.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, softer now—but not gentle. It wasn't anger anymore. It was hurt. Deep. Father-level hurt. "Why, Meera ma?"

Meera tried to hold it together, but her lip trembled. She couldn't lie to him now. Not when his eyes held the same look they did when she scraped her knee at age five and he carried her home like she was glass.

She didn't speak. She couldn't.

Kumaran's fingers brushed her cheek, wiping a tear away almost instinctively. His voice dropped, rough with emotion. "Remember when you were little? You used to tell me everything. Every snack, every drawing, who stole your pencil, what song your teacher sang. We were best friends, weren't we?"

Her knees buckled slightly, and she reached for his hand, holding it. "Appa, we were going to tell you. After our studies... once everything was settled..."

He pulled his hand back, pain flashing through his eyes. "And that makes it okay?" he asked. "You hid this from me. You."

His gaze moved between her and Anjali like he didn't recognize either of them. Meera's throat felt like it was closing up. She hadn't wanted it like this. She wanted her father to trust her, love Adrian the way she did. But now...

Kumaran turned away, silent, his jaw clenched. Just then, the doorbell rang—sharp, loud, cutting through everything.

Before anyone could react, Naveen opened it—and there stood Adrian.

He looked furious. No smugness. No sarcasm. Just raw, stormy emotion.

"Dad, just let me explain—" he started, stepping inside.

But Kumaran didn't let him finish.

"Oh, please," he snapped. "What will you explain now, Adrian Hernandez? That you sneak around with my daughter behind my back? That I should be grateful you helped during my heart attack? That gives you rights over her?"