Blood and heart

38.

REYANSH

"Naina," I call her name softly, the sound barely leaving my lips. Her body tenses for a moment, and then she pulls back just enough to meet my gaze. Her eyes, usually so warm, are clouded with uncertainty.

"Yes?" she whispers, her voice trembling slightly, as if she already knows what I'm about to ask but isn't ready for the answer.

My heart races, my mind battling between fear and the desperate need for clarity. I force myself to speak, though the words catch in my throat.

"D-did you... hear the conversation between me, Papa, and Chachu? That night?" My voice wavers, the weight of my question hanging in the air like a storm cloud ready to break.

Her expression falters. The life drains from her face as the question sinks in. "R-Reyansh..." Her voice cracks like fragile glass.

She lowers her eyes, guilt spreading across her features like a shadow. "I did. And I am so sorry... for even thinking... for even considering that—" She stumbles over her words, her breath hitching, and I see how the memory still tears at her, how it has haunted her as much as it has me.

She takes a deep breath, her shoulders trembling as if she's trying to bear the weight of the past all over again.

"It drove me insane, Reyansh... The thought that someone I love could've had any part in... in the condition I found my father in." Her voice shakes, and she clutches my hand tighter, as if grounding herself. "I know none of you saw his body. And for that, I'm relieved. You didn't deserve to see him like that... like I did."

Her words hit me like a wave, crashing over me, pulling me under. I feel the pain behind her voice—the agony of remembering what she endured alone. She doesn't need to explain the horror of it; I can see it in her eyes, in the way her whole body seems to buckle under the memory.

"I tried, Naina. I tried to understand what you were going through, but I never knew the depth of it... until now," I say, my voice barely holding together. I reach up, my thumb gently wiping away a tear from her cheek, wishing I could wipe away the pain too. "I'm sorry you had to carry that... alone."

Her eyes flutter closed for a moment, and when they open again, they are brimming with unshed tears. "You don't need to apologize, Reyansh. It wasn't your fault. But the things I felt... the anger, the confusion, the guilt... I hated myself for even questioning you, but I couldn't stop. I just couldn't..."

Her voice breaks again, and she buries her face into my chest, her fingers clutching at my shirt like it's the only thing holding her together. I pull her closer, my arms wrapping around her as if I can shield her from the past, from the pain, but I know I can't. All I can do is be here, now, in this moment, for her.

But the nagging question, the one that has kept me awake so many nights, claws its way to the surface again. I need to know. "How did it happen?" I ask softly, my heart pounding in my chest.

Naina lifts her head, confusion furrowing her brow. "What do you mean?"

"The way your father was... when you found him." I swallow hard, struggling to get the words out. "What really happened, Naina? I need to know."

Her face changes in an instant. The softness drains away, replaced by something darker, harder—an old wound ripped open again. She inhales sharply, and when she speaks, her voice is ice-cold, each word cutting like glass.

"It was Nihal," she says bitterly, the name dripping with venom. "He drugged both your father and mine that day... caused the accident." Her voice trembles with barely contained rage. "But that wasn't enough for him. After the accident, he came back... and he destroyed my father." Her hands tighten into fists. "He didn't just ruin his body, Reyansh. He broke his soul. And then... he let everyone believe your father was to blame."

Her words are like a punch to the gut. The room feels like it's spinning, my mind reeling as the pieces of the puzzle fall into place. How could Nihal have done something so cruel? How had we all been so blind?

"Naina, I—" My voice cracks, the horror of what she's saying twisting inside me like a knife. "I didn't know. I had no idea."

"I didn't want you to know," she whispers, her eyes softening, though the pain remains. "I didn't want you to carry this too. But it's too late, isn't it? It's already ours now... both of us."

The weight of her words settles over me, heavy and suffocating. She's right. This burden... it's no longer hers to bear alone. It belongs to both of us now.

Without thinking, I pull her onto the bed with me, her body folding into mine as if we are two broken pieces crafting each other whole again.

My arms wrap tightly around her waist, and I rest my head on her stomach. Her hand finds its way into my hair, gently stroking, soothing me in a way only she can. For the first time in what feels like forever, I let myself relax, her presence enough to quiet the storm inside me.

I close my eyes, exhaustion finally taking hold. Just as sleep begins to claim me, I hear her whisper.

"Happy birthday, Ansh... I'm sorry."

Her words float in the air, but I'm too tired to process them fully. All I know is the warmth of her, the safety of her touch,

Maybe we didn't meet at the perfect time—life was messy, and nothing made sense. But if we were meant to be, nothing will keep us apart.

Love doesn't wait for perfect moments; it just happens. If it's real, it will find its way back, no matter how far we drift.

Love isn't about destiny; it's about two people choosing to be together. It's their choice, not fate.