MahiRat❤️ Denial's Surrender (Bl)

31. Chapter

Virat sat by the window, staring out at the dark sky, the weight of silence crushing him. His heart ached as memories of Mahi flooded his mind—the way Mahi had been pulling away, each day creating a wider gap between them.

For a month now, their interactions had become cold, mechanical. Conversations revolved solely around cricket—matches, strategies, techniques. The warmth that once existed between them had vanished, leaving behind nothing but an empty formality.

Mahi doesn’t even see me anymore, Virat thought, his chest tightening. Every time he tried to catch Mahi’s eye, the older man would look away, retreating into a distance that Virat couldn’t breach. It was like Mahi was no longer present, no longer the man who used to be close, protective, and always there.

Virat's hands clenched into fists as he fought the rising tide of frustration. He missed the way Mahi used to be—gentle yet firm, his touch reassuring in a way that made Virat feel safe. Now, Mahi kept himself so far away that Virat barely recognized him. There was nothing left of the man who once held him with such intensity, nothing left of the bond they had built.

He hadn’t spoken about his pain, about the void Mahi's absence had created. Virat had hoped—prayed even—that Mahi would come back on his own. He believed this distance was temporary, that it was just a phase, something Mahi would soon push through. But as days turned into weeks, that hope slowly began to fade.

His patience was wearing thin. The silence was unbearable, stretching between them like an unspoken barrier. Every day that passed made the distance feel more permanent, more insurmountable.

How much longer could this go on? Virat wondered, his heart heavy with doubt. How long would they pretend that things weren’t breaking apart, that they weren’t drifting further and further away from each other?

A quiet voice in the back of his mind whispered the question he had been too afraid to ask.. What if this is it? What if Mahi never came back, and they were doomed to remain like this—distant, disconnected, like strangers? The thought gnawed at him, feeding into his deepest fears.

But it wasn’t just Mahi’s emotional withdrawal that weighed on Virat. Mahi had been deteriorating physically as well, and Virat couldn’t ignore the signs any longer.

At first, it had been subtle—the fatigue, the missed meals, the lack of energy. But lately! it had gotten worse. Mahi barely ate, his strong, commanding presence reduced to something frail and exhausted.

His face had grown pale and gaunt, his body thinner, and his once-sharp eyes now carried a shadow that terrified Virat.

Whenever Virat asked, Mahi brushed it off. “It’s just the stress” he’d say, his voice strained. “The pressure of the World Cup.”

But Virat knew it was more than that. He saw the toll it was taking on Mahi—the way his body seemed to be failing him, the way he struggled to hold himself together. And it hurt Virat to watch it happen, powerless to do anything about it.

He exhaled shakily, his gaze falling to the storm that had begun outside. The rumbling thunder echoed the storm inside him—raging, relentless. He didn’t know how much longer he could endure the silence, the distance, or the fear of losing Mahi.

For a brief moment, Virat wondered if he should be the one to break the silence, to demand answers, to confront Mahi. But then, a darker thought crossed his mind! What if Mahi doesn’t want to come back?