Standing in the dimly lit room, facing Ankita, I took a deep breath.
"Uhmm, honestly, I don't know how to confess to you, Ankita," I said, my heart pounding in my chest.
The room was sparsely decorated with yellow balloons, her favorite color. It a...
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Ankita's POV:
I make my way toward Aryan's room, my heart heavy with guilt. Mom mentioned his sudden decision to leave for two months, to work on some important project abroad.
I know it's more than just work; he's leaving to get away from me, to distance himself from the hurt I've caused. His flight is this evening, and I can't bear the thought of him going without making things right.
It’s all because of my mistake, and now I’ll do anything to melt his anger, to stop him from leaving.
As I stand by the door, I watch Aryan methodically pack his clothes, his movements stiff with frustration.
My hands tremble with sweat as I first time hesitate to enter, afraid to face the storm of his anger—a side of him I’ve never truly seen.
His luggage is already open, clothes neatly stacked beside it. But inside the suitcase, sitting like a defiant little king, is my son, his small frame nestled among the clothes. My heart swells at the sight.
I asked him to try and stop his dad, and here he is, doing his best to hold Aryan back.
Aryan's POV:-
“Bacha, get up from there and sit on the bed. Let me do the packing, jaan,” I say, trying to coax our little one out of the suitcase.
But he shakes his head stubbornly, refusing to budge,
'no no dadda'.
Just yesterday, I made the decision to go abroad. My boss had been pressing me for weeks, and while I wasn’t completely convinced at first because I'll miss my two precious person.
But now there is no reason of staying here.The pain of seeing her with someone else would be too much for me to handle. So, leaving for a while seems like the only way to protect myself from that heartache.
As much as it hurts, it’s better to be miles away than to witness the end of everything we had.
Suddenly my eyes landed on Ankita who is standing there watching both of us. I stiffened but didn't show her continue to do my packing.
'Shona?' she calls him while her eyes was constantly on me. I could feel it.
'Go downstairs ,your dadi wants to show you something ' with one call he immediately gets up in wobbly feet.
I immediately held him and put him down as he goes from there quietly.
I didn't look at her as I silently doing my one work.
'Ar-yan' she calls me.
My hand stops for a second but didn't budge.
She comes back closing the door behind her.
Ankita's POV:
He didn't responding me and I already know it. I close the door and goes near him and place hand on his shoulder but he freed my hand harshly..
'Just go from here . I'm not in the mood to talk with you'. He ask me in firm voice.
I flinches hearing his firm voice. My eyes fills with tears.
I deserve it.
He walk towards the wardrobe taking out some file.
I followed behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist, clutching his shirt tightly.
He froze for a moment, and I could feel his body tense under my touch.
"I'm sorry, Aryan... please forgive me," I sobbed, resting my cheek against his back.
He tried to pull away, but I held on, desperate to keep him close. When he couldn't break free, he spun around and dragged me in front of him, forcing me to face him.
"Why are you here now, Ankita? To accuse me of something else?"
His voice was harsh, but I could sense the deep hurt behind his anger—the pain I had caused him.
I shook my head, unable to hold back a sob. Hearing my cry, his voice softened, though his eyes were still filled with anger.
"What did you say? That I lust after you?" he asked, a tear escaping from his right eye.
"Do you even know what lust actually means, Ankita?" he continued, his voice trembling.
"It means wanting someone solely for physical attraction, with no emotional connection."I couldn't meet his gaze, the weight of his words pressing heavily on me.
"Did you really believe that I was using Ansh to get close to you? That my love for him was fake?" he asked, his voice laced with pain.
Each of his words struck me deeper, making my guilt more unbearable.
"Did I ever touch you inappropriately or make you uncomfortable with my gaze?" he demanded, his eyes searching mine.
I shook my head, no words coming out.
"Exactly," he said, his voice breaking.
"Because my love for you is genuine. It’s pure, not driven by mere attraction. I have always loved Ansh as my own. When he called me 'dadda' for the first time, you can’t even imagine how that felt. I just wanted to make both of you mine."He turned away, his shoulders shaking with emotion.
I reached out and cupped his face, trying to stop him from wiping away his tears.
"I know, Aryan. I know," I whispered, my own tears falling freely.
"You know nothing," he said, his voice strained.
"If you knew, you wouldn’t have accused me like that."I felt a pang of sorrow as I realized the depth of his pain.
I wiped his tears with my thumb, forcing him to look at me.
"I know I accused you badly, but nothing I said was true. I was blinded by anger and couldn’t see past it. I was too stubborn to acknowledge my true feelings for you."
He continued to shake his head, his cries breaking my heart.
"I kept ignoring my feelings, even though I knew deep down I was falling for you. I love you, Aryan. Please forgive me. Don’t leave us. Ansh needs you. I need you," I pleaded, lifting myself to bring my face closer to his.I pressed my lips gently to his, closing my eyes as I kissed him softly.
He didn’t respond at first, but he didn’t push me away either. I could taste the salt of his tears mingling with my own.
"Please, Aryan, your Ansh needs you, and I need you. Forgive your Ankita one last time," I murmured against his lips.
That's when he started responding me by kissing me back passionately. We both cried as we clung to each other, the tears and emotions flowing freely.
