Shining Fragments of a Heartbeat

Truth

Anaya sat in stunned silence, the weight of Ranath's words pressing on her like a physical burden. Her heart pounded violently in her chest, so loud she thought it might burst. She clenched her fists, her body frozen, her mind whirling in disbelief.

"Please," she whispered, her voice barely audible, her eyes welling with tears. "Please tell me that letter... and everything Marathi said about us... is a lie."

The plea trembled from her lips as though speaking it louder would confirm the horror she didn't want to acknowledge. The man she had loved, the man she had wanted for so long—no, it couldn't be. She refused to finish the thought. The idea was too revolting.

Ranath reached out instinctively, his hand searching for hers, but Anaya jerked away as if his touch might burn her. She pressed herself harder against the car door, tears streaming down her face as a sob escaped her throat. The car, once the scene of their intimate kisses, now felt suffocating, as if the air inside had turned poisonous.

"Anaya, listen to me," Ranath's voice was firm but desperate, trying to cut through her anguish. "Anaya, please!"

But she couldn't bear the sound of his voice. It grated against her raw nerves, intensifying the nausea roiling in her stomach. "Don't touch me!" she shrieked, pushing herself further into the corner of the seat. She groaned, the memory of their recent intimacy still fresh, now tainted by what she'd just heard. She wanted to throw up.

Ranath swallowed, his voice tightening. "You promised you'd listen to me with an open mind."

Anaya's eyes snapped to his, fury blazing through her shock. "Are you kidding me?" she spat, her hands shaking. "You want me to have an open mind? If even one per cent of what you said is true, then—" She gestured wildly between them, unable to voice the word that haunted her. "This is... incest!" she shouted, her voice breaking. "Do you even understand how disgusted I am right now?"

Ranath's expression softened. "But none of it is true," he said, his tone gentle but sure.

Anaya paused, her breath hitching. "What?" she asked in a small voice, hope battling her disgust. Could she believe him? Could she afford to believe him?

"None of it," he repeated, more firmly this time. "Not even 0.0001 per cent of it."

For a moment, her heart lurched as if she'd been pulled back from the edge of an abyss. She stared at him, her body still rigid, but something in her began to thaw, however slowly. "Are you sure?" she asked, her voice fragile, afraid she was clinging to a false lifeline.

Ranath nodded, leaning forward slightly, his eyes locked on hers. "I investigated everything, Anaya. Trust me."

But the words didn't fully sink in. Anaya stared at him, her mind racing. She'd wanted to trust him and believe the man she loved was not her ...... But how could she? Her emotions warred with each other, the pull of relief battling against the weight of betrayal. Could she trust him after everything? The doubt gnawed at her.

"What kind of investigation?" she asked, her voice shaky as she straightened in her seat.

Ranath exhaled, the tension in his body slowly releasing. "After I resigned from the merchant navy, I went to the UK to find my mother. I needed answers."

"Did you meet her?" Anaya's voice wavered between curiosity and dread.

"Yes. It took me months to gather the courage, but I finally called my mother. We met for coffee." He ran a hand through his hair as if recalling the anxiety of that moment. "It wasn't easy. It took me almost six months to feel comfortable enough to open up."

Anaya's brow furrowed. "Why didn't she contact you all these years?" The question felt like a lifeline—if there was a reason behind his mother's absence, maybe there was a reason for all the lies, too.

"She told me she regretted it every day. She made a mistake when she and Appa fought—she gave him an ultimatum. Either he chose her or the farmhouse, and he chose the farmhouse."

Anaya blinked, trying to process it. "So... they weren't fighting about my mother?"

Ranath shook his head, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. "No. Marathi lied, Anaya. She twisted everything."

The words hung in the air, heavy and bitter. Anaya felt her chest tighten. She had known Marathi hated her, but to go this far? To destroy lives with a lie, she couldn't wrap her mind around it.

"But... why?" Her voice cracked under the weight of the betrayal. "Why would she do that?"

"I don't know," Ranath admitted, his confusion evident. "Only Appa or Grandpa can explain that. But what I do know is that my parents' separation had nothing to do with you or your mother."

He paused, searching her eyes, trying to bridge the growing chasm between them. "Anaya, my mum told me you were already six months old when your father died. You and I... we were never involved in anything wrong."

Anaya released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, relief slowly starting to unfurl in her chest. But it wasn't complete. Her heart still ached, and she still feared something would go wrong.

"So all of it—all those lies—about my mother, about us... it was all for nothing?"

Ranath nodded, his gaze steady. "It was all a lie. My mum even said that despite all their fights, my parents never loved anyone else. She swears Appa still loves her, just like she loves him."

A weak smile touched Anaya's lips, the absurdity of the situation sinking in. "That makes sense. I've never seen Uncle Raghuvaran look at another woman. Not the way other men do."

Ranath chuckled softly, a brief moment of levity cutting through the tension. "Yeah, but we still believed Marathi's lies, didn't we?"

Anaya sighed. "I was so disgusted... I couldn't even let myself question it. I thought I was—" She swallowed hard, unable to finish.

Ranath filled in the silence. "Involved in incest."

Anaya winced but nodded. "Yes."

Ranath's eyes darkened with the weight of his guilt. "And I carried that burden alone for five years. When my mum told me everything was a lie, I felt relief, but it was immediately followed by guilt. I should have come to you sooner."

"Why didn't you?" she asked, her voice soft but heavy with the question.

"I was ashamed. Scared. I couldn't face you, not after what I'd done." He looked down, his voice thick with regret. "I spent every penny hiring private investigators to dig up everything about your mother's life, to prove to myself that what I'd been told was a lie. I wanted to come back with evidence and beg for your forgiveness. But I was terrified that you'd moved on, married someone else."

Anaya's heart ached at his confession, but a part of her still clung to the hurt, the betrayal. "What would I have done if I were in his place?" she wondered silently.

"I lost everything in the process—my business, my partner—everything. I was on the brink of depression when my mum finally stepped in. She called Appa after all those years of not speaking."

Anaya's eyes widened. "She did what?"

Ranath sighed, a rueful smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah," she swallowed her pride and called him. Surprisingly, Appa agreed to listen."

Anaya leaned forward, eyes wide with excitement. "Oh my God, that's amazing! After all these years?"

"Stop swooning over my parents' love story," Ranath grumbled, though a smile played on his lips. "It makes me uncomfortable."

Anaya laughed despite herself, the sound breaking through the moment's heaviness. "Fine, but I can't help it."

Ranath's smile slightly faded as he turned serious again. "But what about us, Anaya? Do you think... do we have a chance?"

The question hung between them, weighted with hope and uncertainty. Anaya looked at him, her heart torn between the past and the possibility of a future. Could she forgive him? Could she trust again? And, more importantly—did she want to?