ᴍɪʜɪᴛʜᴀ-𝓗𝓲𝓼 𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓵𝔂 𝓸𝓫𝓼𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷

chapter 35

           AUTHOR'S POV

The change in Rudransh Ranawath was not something that happened overnight. There were no grand declarations of love, no sudden epiphanies. Instead, it was a slow, almost painful process a slow burn of realization that chipped away at his hardened exterior.

It started with the smallest of gestures.

In the days following their argument, Rudransh became a shadow in his own home, watching Mihitha from a distance. Where once he would have forced his presence upon her, demanding her attention, he now hesitated. He lingered at the doorways, stood at the far end of the hall when she passed, his eyes following her every movement. But he never approached. Not at first. It was as though he didn’t know how to anymore.

Mihitha noticed the change, though she never acknowledged it aloud. How could she? Her anger was still too fresh, her heart too raw from the betrayal. But she saw the way his fingers twitched when she walked by, as though fighting the urge to reach out and stop her. The way his voice softened ever so slightly when he did speak to her, no longer the sharp, authoritative tone she had grown used to.

But Rudransh’s true struggle was in the silences. In the moments where he was alone, staring at the empty space beside him in their shared bed. He hadn’t expected to miss her presence as much as he did. It unnerved him, the way the absence of her soft breathing at night made the house feel colder, emptier. It was something he had never noticed before. Something he had taken for granted.

One evening, as he stood outside her room, he found himself hesitating. His hand hovered over the doorknob, his heart racing in a way that was unfamiliar to him. Rudransh Ranawath, feared by many, was nervous. He wasn’t used to this feeling so out of control. He was a man who thrived on dominance, on power. And yet, here he was, powerless in the face of his own emotions.

He didn’t knock. Instead, he walked away, retreating to his office where the remnants of his old life the life before Mihitha awaited him. Papers, deals, threats none of it mattered anymore, not in the way it used to. It was all still there, of course, the world of crime and power. But it felt distant, like a former self he was slowly losing grip on.

He found himself sitting in his office chair, staring blankly at a photo frame on his desk. It was a picture of them together, taken on one of their earlier outings, back when things had been... easier. Mihitha had been smiling no, laughing her hand casually resting on his arm. He hadn’t been smiling in the photo, but he remembered how it had felt in that moment. Warm. Comforting. Like, for a brief second, he could forget everything else.

It was that warmth he was missing now. That, and the way she had made him feel like maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t the monster he had always believed himself to be.

Over the next few weeks, Rudransh’s small gestures became more frequent, though still cautious. When Mihitha left her cup on the kitchen counter, he would silently move it to the sink, washing it without a word. When she was too tired to cook, he would make dinner not the lavish, extravagant meals he had his staff prepare for special occasions, but simple things. Things she liked. Comfort food.

Mihitha noticed. She didn’t say anything, but she noticed.

One day, as she stood in the garden, taking in the fresh air and trying to ease the heaviness in her chest, she heard him approach. His footsteps were softer now, almost hesitant, as though he didn’t want to intrude. She tensed, waiting for him to say something—anything that might break the fragile peace between them.

But he didn’t speak. Instead, he simply sat down on the bench beside her, maintaining a careful distance. He didn’t look at her, but she could feel his presence, feel the way his hands rested awkwardly on his knees as though he wasn’t sure what to do with them.

They sat like that for a long time, neither one saying a word. It was... strange, this silence between them. Not the heavy, suffocating kind that had filled the house in recent days, but something different. Something quieter, more peaceful.

And then, without thinking, Mihitha spoke.

“Why are you doing this?” Her voice was soft, almost tired. She didn’t look at him when she asked.

Rudransh was silent for a moment, as though he didn’t quite know how to answer. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, rough around the edges. “I don’t know,” he admitted. It was the truth, though not the whole truth. How could he explain the growing knot of regret in his chest, the way it tightened every time he saw her look at him with those cold, distant eyes?

She didn’t press him for more, and for that, he was grateful. They sat in silence for a little while longer before Mihitha stood, her hand brushing her belly absentmindedly as she walked back inside.

Rudransh stayed behind, his gaze lingering on the spot where she had been. He knew it wasn’t enough these small gestures, these moments of quiet. He had hurt her too deeply, too completely, for any of this to matter. But it was all he could do now. These small actions, these silent apologies,they were his only way of trying to make amends.

Weeks turned into months, and the distance between them slowly began to close. Not by much, but enough. Mihitha still held herself apart from him, still kept her guard up. But every now and then, when she thought he wasn’t looking, he would catch her watching him with something that wasn’t quite anger.

One night, as she lay in bed, she heard the soft creak of the door to her room opening. Rudransh stood there, silhouetted in the dim light from the hallway. He didn’t step inside. Didn’t say anything. But there was something in his eyes.something vulnerable. Something that made her heart ache, just a little.

He stayed there for a moment, as though asking for permission to enter. And then, without a word, he turned and walked away, closing the door quietly behind him.

Mihitha stared at the closed door for a long time, her mind swirling with confusion. She didn’t know what to make of this new version of Rudransh. The man who had once been so cold, so ruthless, was now a man she barely recognized.a man who seemed to be slowly unraveling in front of her.

And for the first time in a long time, she felt something other than anger toward him.

It wasn’t forgiveness. Not yet. But it was a start.