His heart was a fortress, haunted by the warmth he pushed away, scarred by the silence he forced between them, all because he believed she deserved more than the broken pieces he could offer.
And, her heart was a battlefield, bruised by all the word...
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DISCLAIMER: The story is set in the early 20th century. While I have made efforts to capture the essence of the era, there may be inaccuracies as this is a work of fantasy. I do not own the characters Arnav and Khushi, and this story is purely fictional with no relation to any real individuals, living or dead. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.
WARNING: 18+, MATURE CONTENT (Trigger warning-mention of r*pe and murder)
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"You know who I am, right?" Arnav asked softly to the little girl hunched down in her bed, clutching her knees to her chest. Her mother had died in the early morning, leaving 11-year-old Amelia in the hands of a complete stranger. Arnav saw the little girl bobbing her head slowly.
"This is my wife, Khushi," he said, drawing Khushi close and clutching her hand tightly. "We are going to take care of you, okay?" Arnav said, trying to sound reassuring. The girl raised her head to look at her brother."I know it's going to be very hard for you. but we are here for you, Amelia"
"Amy," she said softly. When Arnav looked at her questioningly, almost missing her remark, she added in her sweet trembling voice, "Only people call me Amelia when they're angry."
"Okay."
On the last Monday before they were scheduled to leave for India, Natalia passed away as her condition deteriorated considerably. Although Arnav had made arrangements for Amelia to be escorted safely to India by a friend in the event of her mother's death, but it was better that they were bringing her to India with them.
After Arnav decided to adopt Amelia and take care of her himself, he and Khushi discussed the details of bringing Amelia into their home. They decided to keep Amelia's parentage a secret from society, as growing up in a foreign society would be challenging enough for her. They didn't want to burden little Amelia even more. They would only reveal her parentage to close family members, such as the Rajputs and Anjali. Arnav did not want to lie to Anjali.
Her heart broke for the little girl as Khushi watched Arnav gently guide Amelia into their home in Delhi. Amelia's eyes were wide with a mix of fear and curiosity. The sight of Amelia's small, trembling hands clutching her frock stirred something deep within Khushi. The shadows of loss and uncertainty in Amelia's gaze mirrored the ones Khushi herself had once known all too well.
