Shadows Of The Stumps

Chapter - 55

Athiya tilted her head, studying Rahul's face. "Hey," she said softly, squeezing his hand under the table. "You okay?"

Rahul exhaled, leaning back against the chair. "Honestly? No." His voice was low, edged with frustration.

Athiya shifted closer, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "Talk to me, Rahul. What's bothering you?"

He ran a hand through his hair, his jaw tight. "My form's been bad, Athiya. The team just lost a series we hadn't lost in twelve years. And now, I've been named in the squad for the next series, but I still don't know if I'll make it to the playing eleven."

Athiya's expression softened, knowing how deeply Rahul felt every setback. "It's been rough, hasn't it?" she whispered.

Rahul nodded, his eyes clouded. "It's like... I've lost my rhythm. Every time I think I've got it back, something slips. And when the team loses, it weighs on you—like you've let everyone down. The fans, the team, the coaches."

He paused, the weight of it pressing down on him. "I try to focus on the process, you know? But when you're in this slump, it's hard to drown out the noise—everyone has an opinion. And I... I can't shake the feeling that maybe, even if I work my ass off, I still won't make the eleven."

Athiya listened quietly, her heart heavy for him. Rahul rarely opened up like this, and it hurt to see him struggle. "I know how much you care," she murmured. "But this isn't just on you. It's cricket, Rahul. Sometimes, things don't go the way we plan."

Rahul gave a bitter laugh. "Yeah, well, it feels personal right now. I see guys performing, and I know I can do better—but it's not showing out there. And the pressure keeps piling up."

Athiya reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair off his forehead. "Rahul, you've done this before. You've come back stronger every time. This isn't the end, not even close."

He looked at her, gratitude flickering in his eyes, though the frustration lingered. "I just hate feeling like this. Like I'm fighting battles in my head before I even get to the field."

Athiya smiled gently. "That's what makes you a fighter. You feel every high and low because you care so much. But you'll get through this, Rahul. You always do."

Rahul exhaled slowly, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. "I hope so," he murmured. "I don't want to let anyone down—especially not you."

Athiya cupped his cheek, her thumb tracing light circles along his jaw. "Rahul, you could never let me down. I'm proud of you—whether you score a hundred or not, whether you play in the eleven or not. And your team knows what you're made of. They'll see it when it matters."

Rahul leaned into her touch, his eyes closing briefly. "You're the best, you know that?"

Athiya chuckled softly. "I've been told."

He smiled—just a flicker, but it was there. And that was enough for Athiya.

"Let's take it one day at a time," she whispered, brushing a kiss against his temple. "And no matter what happens next, you've got me. Always."

Rahul nodded, his hand tightening around hers. "One day at a time," he repeated, as if grounding himself with her words.

And for the first time in a while, he allowed himself to believe that it would be okay.

Athiya chuckled lightly, but Rahul's smile faded as his gaze drifted to the photo frame on the shelf. It held a picture of Meera in her uniform—a proud moment, yet bittersweet. She stood there, composed and focused, her gaze steady, wearing the look of someone who had lived through more than her share of battles.

His voice lowered, a heavy question weighing on his mind. "Do you think I did the wrong thing by keeping her here? She should be back at the academy, with her team... doing what she's meant to do."

Athiya sighed, her hand slipping into Rahul's, grounding him. "Rahul, listen to me. You didn't stop her. Yes, you asked her to stay, and of course, you wanted that. But the decision was hers. Meera's never been one to follow orders blindly—not even yours."

Rahul's jaw clenched, frustration and guilt evident in his expression. "I know... but it feels like I pulled her away from something she was born to do."

Athiya shifted slightly, turning to face him. "Rahul, do you remember what she told you? She promised Amayra that she'd leave the force the moment she found you—you were her reason to step back. That wasn't your decision, it was hers. And even now, she hasn't left it entirely. She's just here, taking a break. If she's needed, she'll go. She always will."

Rahul exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck, the weight on his shoulders still palpable. "I just... I hate feeling like I'm making decisions for her."

Athiya gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "You need to stop doing that. She's here because she chose to be. You can't decide for her—whether it's staying or leaving. She's not someone you can hold on to or set free just because you feel guilty."

Rahul's shoulders slumped. "It's not fair, is it? One minute I ask her to stay, and now, because I feel guilty, I'm wondering if I should let her go back. I don't want to hurt her like that."

Athiya leaned closer, her voice soft but firm. "Exactly. It can't keep going like this—your guilt pulling her one way and your fear the other. Meera doesn't need you to decide for her. She's capable, Rahul. Trust her to know what's right for herself."

Rahul nodded slowly, running his fingers through his hair. "You're right. I just... It's hard, you know? After everything she's been through, I just want her to be okay. Safe."

Athiya smiled, her eyes warm with understanding. "And she will be. But you can't wrap her in cotton wool. Meera's always been someone who'll find her own way. And you—" she gave him a playful nudge—"you're the brother she loves fiercely. Just be here for her, Rahul. That's all she needs."

Rahul gave a small, tired smile, the weight on his heart lifting slightly. "Yeah," he murmured. "You're right. I'll stop overthinking. I just need to let her be."

Athiya kissed his temple softly, her thumb brushing reassuring circles on his hand. "Exactly. You've got her back—and she's got yours. That's how it's always been. And that's enough."

For a moment, they sat in comfortable silence, the morning light filtering through the windows, casting a soft glow around them. Rahul leaned his head against Athiya's, grateful for her steady presence.

Meera's laugh drifted from the other room, light and carefree. Rahul smiled at the sound, his heart settling in his chest. Athiya was right—Meera was home. And for now, that was more than enough.