𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

ATHARVA

"Why can't Maya sleep with her? She is not well; she might need someone at night," I explained to Mom, suggesting that Maya should share a room with Dhruvi for the night.

"Beta, rather than asking Maya, you should be the one sleeping with Dhruvi," Mom advised.

"No, Mom, it will be so awkward." The thought of it made me uneasy. It wasn't like we never shared a bed before; as kids, we often slept together on family trips. But it was different now. We weren't children anymore.

"Come on, she is your wife. That's your room. How can it be awkward?" Mom glared at me, probably irritated by my reluctance.

I just can't, Mom! I can't sleep peacefully knowing the pain she endured because of me. It's hard for me to face her. But I couldn't explain this to Mom. She wouldn't understand the depth of my guilt, the weight of my regret.

"Now that you know about everything that happened in the past, give your marriage a chance, beta. Maybe you both were destined to be together and just didn't know it. And you know what? It's good for Dhruvi too. She will start a new life and get busy with new things, forgetting the past."

Mom's words hung in the air as I walked down the hallway to the room
As I reached the door, I hesitated, my hand hovering over the doorknob.
Taking a deep breath, I turned the knob and stepped inside.

Dhruvi was asleep on the couch, a book open in her hand and a blanket loosely draped over her. I couldn't help but smile as I approached her. Gently, I took the book from her hands, making sure not to wake her. My eyes fell on the title: *Sharp Objects* by Gillian Flynn.

"She's still drawn to these kinds of stories," I murmured to myself, the memories rushing back. Dhruvi had always craved horror, crime, and dark psychological fiction. She had an insatiable appetite for these books, constantly seeking her next gripping read.

I placed the book on the side table and then carefully lifted her from the couch. She felt so light, almost fragile, in my arms. I laid her down gently and pulled the blanket over her, making sure she was warm and comfortable. As I adjusted her pillow, her hand shot out, grabbing my shirt in her sleep. She mumbled, "Don't leave me, Atharva. Not again, please."

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. Guilt washed over me, heavy and suffocating. I bent down and whispered, "Never, Dhruvi. I left for you before, but now, for you, I'll stay."

I carefully removed her hand from my shirt and tucked her in. As I stood up, I looked at her peaceful face, feeling a mix of love and regret. I walked back to the couch, my mind racing with thoughts of our past and the mistakes I had made.

Lying down, I stared at the ceiling, replaying the moments that had led us here. I remembered the times when leaving seemed like the best option, thinking it was for her benefit. But now, seeing her like this, I realized that staying was what she needed the most. I was determined to be there for her, to be her strength and support, no matter how hard it might be for me.

DHRUVI

As my eyes fluttered open, I felt a strange sensation, a disorientation that left me questioning my surroundings. The last memory I had was falling asleep on the couch with a book in my hands. How did I end up in my bed? My mind was clouded, but I could hear the sound of the shower running in the background. A rush of memories from the previous morning flooded back to me. Could Atharva be here again? Did he carry me to bed? The thought stirred a mixture of curiosity and something else within me.

The shower stopped, and a sudden urge to compose myself washed over me. I quickly ran my fingers through my hair, trying to smooth out the tangles, and adjusted my position on the bed. Normally, I wouldn't care about my appearance, but today felt different. Was it because Atharva was here?

Images of past birthdays came to mind, memories of wearing his favorite colored dress just to see him smile. Why did those moments matter so much to me? My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the bathroom door opening.

Atharva emerged, his hair damp and messy, a towel wrapped around his waist while another towel was used to dry his hair. Water droplets glistened on his bare chest, catching the morning light. Yesterday, I hadn't really noticed him, but today, I couldn't seem to take my eyes off him. There was a magnetism about him that drew my gaze, an allure I couldn't quite resist.

"Good morning," he said with a smile, his eyes warm and inviting.

"Morning," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. I struggled to keep my composure, feeling an unfamiliar heat rise to my cheeks.

He chuckled softly. "You okay? You seem a bit flustered."

"Yeah, just... woke up a bit disoriented," I said, trying to sound casual. "Did you put me to bed last night?"

Atharva nodded. "You fell asleep on the couch. I didn't want you to be uncomfortable."

A wave of gratitude and embarrassment hit me simultaneously. "Thanks," I muttered, looking away to avoid his gaze.

"Anytime," he said with a reassuring smile. He continued to dry his hair, seemingly unaware of the effect he had on me.

As I watched him, memories of our shared moments played in my mind like a film reel. His laughter, our late-night conversations, the way he always seemed to understand me. There was a familiarity, a comfort in his presence that I cherished. But there was something more now, something that made my heart beat a little faster.
I don't know how it happened, but Atharva and I ended up getting ready for breakfast at the same time. After freshening up in the bathroom, I stepped out to find him sitting on the couch, engrossed in a file. His concentration was intense, his eyes scanning the pages with an unyielding focus. For a moment, I just stood there, watching him.

As if sensing my presence, Atharva looked up and our eyes met. There was a brief silence before he spoke, his voice breaking the morning stillness. "Shall we go for breakfast?" he asked, his tone casual, but with an undertone that suggested he had been waiting for me.

"Sure," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. There was something about the way he had been waiting that made my heart skip a beat, but I didn't want to overthink it. We walked to the breakfast table together, an easy silence settling between us.

The dining area was bathed in soft morning light, the table already set with an array of dishes. As we sat down, I couldn't help but steal glances at Atharva. His presence was both comforting and unsettling, a combination that left me feeling both calm and nervous.
No matter how hard I try, my feelings for Atharva remain uncontrollable. Anger and hurt may dominate, but in his presence, they fade. It's a constant struggle, a tug-of-war between my heart and mind. Despite the turmoil, moments with him bring a fleeting sense of peace. But beneath it all, the hurt lingers, a reminder of the betrayal. Yet, I find myself drawn to him, unable to resist the unyielding pull of emotions.