Krishnapriya Devashree

88. Mending Hearts

Narayan stood frozen in the doorway. He couldn't move.

Her once luminous skin, glowing like the moon itself, was now pale and lifeless. Dark circles loomed beneath her eyes, deep shadows that told the story of sleepless nights and endless suffering.

She was still so beautiful to him, but it was a beauty tinged with heartbreak. And it was all his fault. 

For the first time, he felt the true weight of his actions, the irreversible damage he had done to the one being who had loved him unconditionally. He had shattered her trust, her heart, and in doing so, he had lost a part of himself as well.

Like he said her eyes were empty. No pain, no tears, no anger—just an abyss of nothingness. Those eyes, once brimming with love and light, now stared blankly ahead, unseeing and uncaring. 

Concern mounted in him.

He took a step closer, his hands trembling as they reached out toward her. "Sri..." he whispered again. "Please, say something... anything..."

Still, there was nothing. Her eyes were the same. Devoid of any emotion. Like a hollow shell.

He joined his hands and bowed his head in guilt. "I know I have wronged you beyond measure, and I know that I do not deserve your forgiveness. But I am here, Sri, because I cannot bear to live with the pain I have caused you. I am here because I love you, and I will do whatever it takes to make amends, to bring back the light in your eyes."

He forced himself to look up, hoping against hope to see some flicker of recognition, some sign that his words had reached her. Instead, he saw her lips stretch into a smile—a smile that sent a chill down his spine.

It was humorless, cold, mocking.

"Why are you apologizing?" she asked, her voice laced with a bitter edge. "You have never in all these years, so why start now?"

"Please don't be like this, Sri," he pleaded, his voice breaking. "Please, I will do anything... anything you ask."

"You will?" she repeated, her tone was flat, as if his promise held no weight. She tilted her head, studying him with a detached curiosity. "Can you make me like you? I want to be like you. It is my heart's dear wish, to just stop being. To just stop everything and vanish, just like you have."

Her words hung in the air. At least she was showing emotions.  He opened his mouth to speak, but she continued, her tone growing more frantic.

"But no... no, I will not!" she exclaimed, her voice rising as she shook her head. "I have duties and responsibilities. I cannot just vanish, I cannot just stop. Please, just leave. Why have you come? I stopped making you years ago. Why are you here? Please, go... please stop giving me hope."

"Sri... no," he whispered, shaking his head in denial. "I'm here, I'm real. I came back for you, I'm not a hallucination, I'm not an illusion."

But she only looked at him with the same empty eyes, the same mocking smile. "You say that every time," she murmured, turning away from him as if the sight of him pained her. 

This was worse. He looked at her eyes again and he could feel the resistance she was having. Trying to suppress her feelings, trying to remain strong, trying to believe that....she had lost him....

Narayan's legs gave way, and he slid down to his knees before her, his hands shaking as they reached out to her. He didn't dare look into her eyes again, the sight of her pain too much to bear. Instead, his eyes lowered to the floor, where they rested on her bare feet.