𝐔𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞: 𝐀 𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐨 𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐲

Chapter 19

N I K S H A N T

I glanced at my watch-6 PM.

Shit.

I immediately stood up and left the room.

I couldn't keep her hungry for too long. Not today. Not when she'd fasted for me, despite everything... despite us.

My feet moved fast, but my heart beat even faster as I climbed the stairs to the terrace. The sky above was slowly sinking into darkness, stars blinking into existence like the universe knew something special was about to happen. I stood there, my eyes fixed on the horizon, waiting-no, hoping-for the moon to rise.

And for her to come.

The wind carried a silence, heavy but expectant. And then-soft, sweet, familiar-the faint jingling of anklets echoed behind me. My chest tightened.

I didn't have to turn around to know it was her.

But I did. Of course I did.

And there she was.

Time halted.

Everything inside me froze and melted at the same time. The cool numbness I'd carried in my chest thawed in one breath. My heart-silent for days-roared back to life. And all because of her.

Draped in red, her saree clinging to her like a prayer, she looked like every dream I never had the courage to dream. Her eyes dropped the moment they caught mine, that little shy act she does when I stare too long-and God knows I always do.

She walked slowly, each step like a beat syncing with my heart, until she stopped in front of me.

My lips moved before my brain caught up. "You look like a bride... like my cherry... like my wife," I said hoarsely, the words spilling out raw, honest, unfiltered.

Her eyes widened, her cheeks flushed a beautiful shade of red that matched her saree.

I froze.

Shit.

Did I really say that? Cherry-the name I'd given her silently in my head, the one I never thought I'd speak aloud.

Embarrassment crept up my neck and warmed my ears. I quickly looked away, up at the sky-save me, moon-and thank God, there it was. A soft, silver light broke through the clouds.

Relief.

I cleared my throat. "Look, Aaravi... the moon's here."

She followed my gaze, then gently pulled her pallu over her head with reverence, holding the sieve up to the glowing moon and then slowly, to my face.

My breath caught in my throat.

The way she looked at me in that moment-soft, sacred, still holding onto pieces of pain but with something new flickering beneath it-shook me.

She lowered the sieve, and I quickly took the water jug. She drank silently, gracefully. And in that one moment, the fast we both had carried all day-hers for love, mine for redemption-broke.

She bent to touch my feet, and my reflexes kicked in. I held her shoulders and shook my head, gently but firmly.

"You don't need to do that," I murmured.

And you never will-not for love, not for tradition, not for me.

Because her love is a gift, not a duty. And I'll never let her bow in front of anyone again, not even me.

Then I remembered-the anklet.

The one I'd bought days ago, from a roadside stall. Cheap, maybe, but to me it was beautiful. Like her.