Be Mine

9. I Will Stay Loyal

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Aditya's Pov

After attending a call with her doctor, I couldn't stop thinking about what she had told me. She revealed that someone had tried to rape her. The very idea is shocking and infuriating. How could anyone be so reckless, so depraved, and so callous? It's beyond comprehension that someone would think they could get away with such a heinous act. The thought of what she must have gone through is deeply disturbing and makes me both angry and concerned for her safety and well-being.

The mere thought of someone laying a hand on her in such a vile manner fills me with a mix of rage, sorrow, and disbelief. Hearing her recount the horror of what happened feels like a dagger to the heart, leaving me paralyzed with helplessness and despair. Every word she speaks is like a hammer pounding against my chest, each detail etching itself into my mind like a painful scar. The realization that I couldn't protect her from this evil is a heavy burden to bear, leaving me feeling powerless and broken. All I want is to hold her close, to shield her from any further harm, and to somehow find a way to ease the pain she's enduring.

As her partner, I'm struck by the realization that she's a powerful woman, fully capable of protecting herself. Yet, despite her strength, this horrendous act still happened to her. I feel an overwhelming urge to understand every detail of what occurred.

I've delved into her files, from her studies to her family background, searching for any clues. Everything seems in order, but there's an unshakeable feeling that something is missing, some piece of the puzzle that hasn't been revealed.

The thought of directly asking her about it feels like a breach of trust, especially since she's only recently regained consciousness. Bringing up such a traumatic event again could inflict further harm.

So, I'm left grappling with this internal struggle, torn between my need for answers and my desire to protect her fragile state. It's a delicate balance, navigating the desire for understanding with the need to respect her healing process.

Feeling helpless in that moment, I could only watch as she lay there, pale and confused, her eyes searching for solace. The weight of knowing that I was somehow connected to her suffering felt like a crushing burden. How could I be the source of her pain and yet offer her comfort?

The urge to rush to her side and console her was overwhelming, but I knew deep down that my presence might only serve as a painful reminder of what had transpired. It felt like I was caught in a never-ending loop of wanting to help but feeling utterly powerless to do so.

In that moment, all I could do was stand by, offering silent support and hoping that she could feel the strength of my love and unwavering commitment to stand by her side, no matter what. It was a humbling reminder of the fragility of human connection and the profound impact our actions can have on those we care about.

As she stormed into my cabin, her eyes ablaze with rage, I felt like I was drowning in a sea of chaos. The intensity of her anger was palpable, leaving me bewildered and unsure of what had triggered it this time.

Before I could even process her presence, she hurled my jacket at me with such force that the button struck my cheek, causing a sharp twinge of pain. Yet, in the midst of the commotion, the physical discomfort seemed insignificant compared to the emotional turmoil unfolding before me.

I pushed aside the minor injury,
Right now, the tempest in her eyes was the real disaster I needed to navigate through.

It's like trying to tame a hurricane with a feather duster. Her anger is like the end of the world, and in that state, it feels impossible to rein her in.