Faded Dawn Light

7. Fading

Arunika parked outside the arrivals terminal, anxiously gripping the steering wheel as she watched travelers stream out of the sliding doors. Mikha emerged, effortlessly blending into the crowd with his casual yet commanding presence. His gaze swept over the sea of faces until it landed on her car.

He approached and climbed into the passenger seat with a calm, practiced ease, tossing his travel bag onto the floor.

"We need to talk first," he said flatly, skipping any greetings.

Arunika swallowed her anxiety. "Talk about what?"

Mikha didn't answer. Instead, he tilted his head toward the highway. "Let's drive. I know a place."

---

The restaurant was quiet, tucked away from the city's noise. A perfect setting for uncomfortable conversations. They sat across from each other, the dim lighting doing nothing to soften the tension hanging between them.

Mikha placed their order without consulting her. It wasn't arrogance-it was control. As the waiter left, he finally turned his gaze to her, heavy with unspoken words.

Arunika felt the pressure of his silence bearing down on her, forcing her to say something. "I talked to my dad."

Mikha's jaw twitched. "And?"

"He won't agree to the surgery," she admitted, frustration and helplessness bleeding into her voice. "He says he'll manage without it."

Mikha exhaled, leaning forward slightly. "I told you to stop trying."

Arunika bristled. "I can't. If he-"

"I've told you to free yourself from your promise," Mikha interrupted, his voice sharp and unforgiving. "But you never listen, do you?"

It felt like a slap-a punishment disguised as cold advice. As if her obedience to her father was something childish, something to be condemned.

Arunika's lips parted, but no words came out. She could feel her heart cracking under the weight of his words.

"You keep tying yourself to him," Mikha continued, "like you owe him your entire life." He leaned back, studying her with an air of cold detachment. "How long are you planning to live someone else's life, Nika?"

His words cut deep, leaving her exposed. She had obeyed her father all her life, clinging to promises that felt heavier every day. And now here was Mikha, not just challenging her loyalty but making her feel foolish for it.

Arunika clenched her fists under the table. "You wouldn't understand."

Mikha's gaze didn't waver. "I understand perfectly." He paused, letting the silence stretch just long enough to make her uncomfortable. "But I'm not going to wait for you to figure it out."

Arunika stared at him, frozen in place. "What are you saying?"

Mikha's voice was low, steady. "I'm saying this ends tonight. Either we move forward, or we don't."

Her pulse quickened. "What do you mean by move forward?"

He gave her a pointed look, as if the answer should be obvious. "You know exactly what I mean."

Her breath caught in her throat. He wasn't just talking about marriage; he was demanding something more.

"You want... tonight?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Mikha gave a small, humorless smile. "Unless you'd prefer the deal to be off."

The implication hit her like a punch to the gut. If she didn't agree, everything they had-every promise, every compromise-would crumble. Her father's health, her own future, all of it would slip through her fingers.

She sat there, paralyzed by the impossible choice before her.

---

The drive to Mikha's house was shrouded in silence. The night outside felt heavier than usual, as if the universe itself knew the weight of the decision Arunika had made.

When they arrived, the house stood in eerie quiet, a shadowy silhouette against the dark sky. She parked in the driveway, hands trembling on the steering wheel.

Mikha took the keys from her hand without a word and unlocked the front door.

Arunika hesitated at the entrance, her heart thudding painfully against her ribs. This house, once a neutral space, now felt like a battlefield.

Mikha held the door open, waiting patiently for her to step inside. When she finally did, the door clicked shut behind them with an unsettling sense of finality.

He led her into the living room, switching on a warm, low light. "Sit," he said softly, motioning toward the couch.

She sat down stiffly, every muscle in her body tense. Mikha poured two glasses of water and handed one to her.

"Drink," he urged, his tone gentler now.

She took the glass, her hands still shaking. The cool water did little to steady her nerves.

Mikha sat beside her, keeping a respectful distance. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence between them was filled with all the things they couldn't say-fear, resentment, and the weight of broken dreams.

Finally, Mikha broke the silence. "I know this isn't what you wanted."

Arunika stared at the floor, unable to meet his gaze. "Then why are you doing this?"

"Because I don't want to pretend anymore." His voice was soft, but the words were heavy. "If we're going to do this, we need to stop lying to each other."

Arunika looked up at him, Arunika looked up at him, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. "I never lied."

Mikha leaned closer, his gaze intense. "Maybe not with words. But with silence? With everything you refused to say?"

She swallowed hard, her throat tight with emotion.

He reached out, brushing his fingers lightly over her knuckles. "I'm not doing this to hurt you, Nika. But I need to know-are you with me, or are you still holding on to a life you'll never get back?"

Her heart ached with the weight of his question. Mikha's demand wasn't just physical-it was emotional, too. He was asking her to let go of everything she had clung to for years.

She closed her eyes, taking a shaky breath. Could she really do this? Could she really let go?

When she opened her eyes again, Mikha was watching her with an unreadable expression. Not cold, not cruel-just waiting.

And in that moment, she knew there was no going back.

"Okay," she whispered.

Mikha's expression softened-just a fraction. He nodded, reaching for her hand again, this time with more tenderness.

"You won't regret this," he said quietly.

But even as the words left his lips, Arunika couldn't help but wonder if they were both lying to themselves.