ᴍɪʜɪᴛʜᴀ-𝓗𝓲𝓼 𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓵𝔂 𝓸𝓫𝓼𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷

chapter 36

            AUTHOR'S POV

The final months of Mihitha's pregnancy had arrived like a quiet storm. Her once flat stomach now stretched round and firm, the baby growing stronger by the day. There was a heaviness in her limbs that hadn't been there before, a weariness in her movements that spoke of the toll her pregnancy was taking on her body. But it wasn't just her body that felt the weight it was her heart, too.

Things between Mihitha and Rudhransh had been tense ever since the revelation of his true intentions. She no longer shared the same space with him, no longer allowed herself to believe in the possibility of reconciliation. His apologies, his attempts to make amends they felt hollow to her. And yet, as her pregnancy progressed, she found herself needing his presence more than she wanted to admit.

The guest room she had claimed as her own now felt like a distant memory. For the past few weeks, she'd returned to their shared bedroom, unable to fight the exhaustion any longer. She didn’t tell him that, of course. She didn’t have to. Rudhransh had noticed the shift, and though she had expected him to gloat or manipulate her return, he hadn’t. He simply accepted it, as though he understood, perhaps for the first time, that there were things she couldn’t control.

It was the little things at first. A blanket tucked around her when she fell asleep on the couch, her favorite tea left on the bedside table when she woke up from a restless night, and the way he would linger in the doorway, watching her as if he were trying to solve some puzzle she couldn’t see. He never spoke of these gestures, and Mihitha never mentioned them either. But they were there, each one weaving a silent thread of care that she wasn’t sure how to interpret.

One night, deep in her third trimester, Mihitha lay awake in bed. The weight of the baby made it difficult to sleep, and she shifted uncomfortably, trying to find a position that didn’t make her back ache or her legs cramp. She winced, rubbing her swollen feet, wishing for some relief.

That’s when she felt the bed shift slightly, and before she could protest, Rudhransh’s hands were on her feet, gentle and firm as he began to massage them. She froze, her breath catching in her throat. He said nothing, his focus entirely on easing the tension in her body. His touch was careful, almost reverent, as though he were afraid of hurting her. It was such a stark contrast to the cold, ruthless man she had come to know that Mihitha didn’t know how to react.

She wanted to tell him to stop, that she didn’t need his help, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she closed her eyes, allowing herself to melt into the sensation. His fingers worked magic on her tired feet, kneading away the soreness, and for the first time in weeks, she felt a sense of peace. She hated that he could make her feel this way, that despite everything, her body still responded to his touch with a longing she couldn’t suppress.

When he finished, he pulled the covers back over her and retreated to his side of the bed without a word. Mihitha didn’t thank him. She couldn’t. Her pride wouldn’t let her. But as she drifted off to sleep, she couldn’t help but wonder if this was the man he had always been, hidden beneath the layers of anger and revenge.

The days continued to pass, and Rudhransh’s gestures of care became more frequent, though never overt. He would leave her notes reminding her to eat, make sure her vitamins were always stocked, and without fail, he was there whenever she struggled to move or get comfortable. Still, they rarely spoke beyond the necessities. There were no deep conversations, no apologies that she would believe. But in the quiet moments, when he thought she was asleep, he would let down his guard.

One such moment came late one night, when Mihitha had finally fallen asleep after hours of tossing and turning. Rudhransh sat beside her, his hand resting gently on her swollen belly. His gaze was soft, his usual hard edges dulled by something she couldn’t place regret, perhaps. He stayed like that for a long time, just watching her sleep, as though he couldn’t quite believe the woman lying beside him.

Then, in a voice barely louder than a whisper, he began to speak.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his hand lightly tracing circles over her stomach. “I’m sorry for everything. For hurting you, for taking away what you loved.”

His words were so soft, so full of emotion, that Mihitha almost didn’t believe they were real. She kept her breathing even, her eyes closed, pretending to sleep as he continued.

“I don’t deserve you,” he said, his voice cracking ever so slightly. “Or our baby. But I can’t let you go. I don’t know how to. I thought revenge was everything. I thought it would make me feel whole again, but... I was wrong.”

He paused, his hand still on her belly. The baby kicked lightly, and a small, broken smile touched his lips.

“You’re going to be so much better than me,” he whispered, as if speaking to the child within her. “You’ll never know what it’s like to grow up in this darkness. I promise you that. I won’t let you become like me.”

Mihitha’s heart ached at his words, at the sincerity that laced his voice. This was the Rudhransh she had caught glimpses of in the early days, the man she had once thought she could love. But could words erase the damage he had done? Could a few late-night confessions make up for the pain he had caused? She didn’t know. All she knew was that for the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel entirely alone.

As the days passed, Rudhransh’s care for her only deepened. He became almost obsessive in his efforts to ensure her comfort. He would make her meals, insist on carrying her up the stairs when her legs felt too weak, and, more often than not, she would wake up to find him watching over her, as though afraid she would slip away in the night.

One evening, after a particularly difficult day, Mihitha sat in their living room, her legs propped up on a cushion as she tried to ease the swelling in her ankles. She had been irritable all day, the discomfort of the pregnancy making her more short-tempered than usual. Rudhransh had been patient, though, giving her space when she needed it and helping when she allowed it.

Now, as the evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting the room in a warm, golden glow, he came to sit beside her. Without a word, he took her feet into his lap and began to massage them again. This time, she didn’t resist. She closed her eyes, letting the tension drain from her body as his hands worked to soothe her aches.

“You don’t have to do this,” she murmured after a few minutes, her voice softer than she intended.

“I know,” he replied, his tone equally soft. “But I want to.”

Mihitha opened her eyes and looked at him, really looked at him. There was something different about him now, something that had changed in the months since she had first learned the truth about his intentions. The sharpness in his gaze had softened, the coldness in his demeanor had melted, replaced by something she hadn’t seen in a long time vulnerability.

For the first time in months, she didn’t pull away. She let him care for her, let him be the man he was trying to become, even if she wasn’t sure she could ever truly forgive him.

As the baby kicked again, stronger this time, Rudhransh placed a hand on her belly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Do you think they know?” he asked quietly, his eyes still on her stomach. “That we’re trying to make this work?”

Mihitha didn’t answer right away. She didn’t know if they were truly trying or if they were just playing along with the inevitable. But as she watched Rudhransh talk to their unborn child, apologizing to the baby for the mistakes he had made, she allowed herself a small sliver of hope.

Maybe, just maybe, things could be different.