[Sequel of Warm Love, hence can't be read as a standalone.]
In the first phase, Reyansh concealed a web of mysteries, but as they stand face to face once more, it's Kiraz who holds the tantalizing secrets waiting to be unveiled. These hidden truths...
If i get good engagement on this chapter, i will give you a double update.
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Days are never the same. Each day is new, and each one has its own new beginning. But we are always the same. The same broken us waking up with the heaviness in our chest. Past meanders inside me, calling me out loudly like those glimpsing memories.
The scar on my inner wrist lies straight on my skin, shining in the subtle light of the sun. My thumb caresses the mark—evidence of my secrets. Mine to see and remember what I faced in the war of my life. What I did and why I did it. My weapons felt heavy, and to pick them up, I had no energy left.
I don't know how it happened, and I regret those happenings. My eyes burn with unshed tears. No matter what, I can't shake the torment of my feelings, whether it's guilt, regret, or impending grief, which I had stored in my heart for years. Now, it has broken the shackles and come showering down on me. If I am this miserable, then what about him? What would he be feeling, knowing how it took just a second for me to come to the decision of ending everything? Everything life had brought to me. My parents—how disappointed they were.
"Mrs. Kiraz, it's really a miracle that both of your lives were saved."
My blank eyes, which had kept staring at the white ceiling, finally shifted to the doctor. Two?
He smiles at me, a look of sympathy—a reason to look at any object but not at any human since the time I woke up. "You are six weeks pregnant."
The day has so lovingly etched itself in the name of memory that even in my conscience I can still feel those shivers rattling down my spine. A day I got a second chance and called for redemption.
A tear trickles down from my eyes. If I am bound by these myriads of guilt, how do I not worry for him who must be blaming himself for every fall? He needs me more than he ever did, and here I don't even know about his whereabouts.
I tried reaching him, but he has switched his phone. I called Vishal, who assured me he is safe but didn't tell me his location. He is safe, but is he fine?
"Kiraz." I sniffled hearing the familiar voice filled with warmth. My arms tighten around my knees, my shoulders shaking with a soundless sob as I pressed my teeth to my lips.
Broad arms wrap around me, taking me in the cocoon of tenderness. I break apart, hiding my face in his chest as I snivel out, "He knows, Kabir."
"Shh..." he pats my head.
"Kabir, he knows. What do I do now?"
"First, calm down."
Breathing becomes a tussle when a dull pain envelops my lungs. With every shed of tears, the ache intensifies, snatching my breath and filling the hollowness with the deserted inner self of mine. Is there a way that ache could be cut away?
