The Eternal Bond: A Saga of Love and Passion

Chapter- 48

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It's quiet a long chapter with 4500 words, so enjoy 🌝

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Shivantikas pov ~

It’s been a few weeks since I came back from the hospital, and life has taken an unusual turn. The doctor assured everyone that I was perfectly fine and that my wounds had healed, but it seems like no one in the family is ready to believe it. Everyone is treating me as if I’m made of glass, hovering over me, afraid that I might break. At first, I found it sweet, but now it's becoming a bit overwhelming, although I can’t bring myself to tell them that.

Dhruv, especially, has taken it upon himself to be my personal caretaker. He doesn’t leave me alone for even a moment. Although he has resumed going to the office, he only attends the most crucial meetings and rushes back before lunchtime every day. The minute he enters the house, he’s by my side, making sure I take all my medicines on time, even when I remind him I can handle it myself. Every meal is a production, with him insisting on feeding me, despite the fact that I am more than capable of eating on my own. He refuses to let me hold the spoon, lovingly but firmly placing it in my hand when I try to protest.

"You’ve been through enough, Shivantika. Just let me do this" he always says, his voice soft but determined.

At times, his protectiveness knows no bounds. One morning, he insisted on bathing me. His words were casual, almost as if it were a matter of course, but I couldn’t help but be taken aback. I knew he was coming from a place of love, but I had to draw the line there. I wasn’t completely helpless.

"Dhruv, I can at least bathe myself" I told him, trying to keep my tone light.

His reaction was immediate. His face fell, and within moments, he had plopped down on the sofa, crossing his arms with a pout and puffed cheeks. He refused to speak to me, looking off into the distance like a stubborn child. I had to spend the next hour cajoling him, reassuring him that I still needed him for other things, and only then did he grudgingly give in.

It’s not just Dhruv, though. My entire family has become a permanent fixture in my life, barely giving me space to breathe. My brothers come over every other day, bringing food, books, and even new blankets, as if my recovery required constant replenishing of supplies. They sit with me, refusing to talk about work or anything outside the house, content only to ask how I’m feeling, how I’m sleeping, whether I need anything at all.

It’s touching, but at the same time, I feel like the old me, the independent Shivantika, is being buried beneath their overwhelming care. Yet I can’t deny the warmth it brings me, knowing how deeply they all love me.

On one of these quiet afternoons, I received news about Kabir. His mansion had burned down due to a gas leak, and the fire was so intense that the bodies found inside were unrecognizable. The police concluded that Kabir must have perished in the fire along with his guards. His company, once thriving, had crumbled with his death, and it had shut down completely. A strange sense of satisfaction crept into me when I heard the news. The man who had caused so much pain, who had taken so much from me, was gone, and even though it wasn’t right to celebrate death, I couldn’t help but feel a burden lift from my shoulders. The past had burned down with him.

Life is slowly getting back on track. I can see it in the way everyone is starting to relax a little more. Dhruv no longer hovers quite as much, though he still insists on feeding me. My brothers have started talking about their work again, and they don’t rush over in quite the same panic. The house is filled with warmth and laughter, and the looming shadow of Kabir has finally disappeared.