Beneath The Storm (Completed)

Chapter-21:Between Guilt & Care

Two days had passed since his outburst, but the memory lingered, as though it had carved itself into the walls of his mind.

Atharv had thrown himself into work with relentless focus, or at least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

He wanted to drown out the thoughts, bury them under meetings, reports, and schedules.

Yet, despite the façade of busyness, he could feel the cracks forming.

A part of him felt relief, almost satisfaction, for setting boundaries, for keeping things in the cold clarity he preferred.

But why, then, did he feel this ache? He shook his head, trying to ignore the gnawing sensation in his chest that left him unsettled and… restless.

He felt as though he were caught in an endless drift, and somehow, all paths of thought seemed to lead back to her.

With a frustrated sigh, he pushed away the files before him, leaning back in his chair.

He wanted to convince himself that his restlessness was due to the workload, or the deal he’d lost recently.

But a quiet, persistent part of him whispered it was something else, something unnamable that left him hollow, as though he had shut out something important.

It left him feeling off-balance, and he couldn’t afford that—not now, not ever.

Why did his mind keep drifting back to her? To her quiet presence, her hesitant smiles, the way she clutched that little perfume bottle with such hope.

He cursed himself silently. He hadn’t expected it to be so difficult to sever ties, to turn away, but now, in the hollow silence of his own thoughts, her absence felt louder than he would admit.

And yet, he would never admit it.

It was a quiet weekend morning, around 11 am, and Inaara sat cozily on the couch, absorbed in the pages of her book.

The house was calm, and she welcomed the solitude, letting her mind drift into the story.

Suddenly, she heard the soft rustling of footsteps, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Atharv enter the room.

He looked exhausted, moving with a sluggishness unusual for him.

He shrugged off his blazer, letting it fall carelessly, and collapsed onto the bed without a second thought.

Inaara tried to ignore him, keeping her focus on the book. But something was off.

She couldn’t shake the feeling. Atharv was never one to lie down before he’d freshened up, never one to allow himself such a careless display of fatigue.

Minutes passed, and she noticed a slight movement—he was restless in his sleep, shifting uncomfortably.

A faint whimper escaped his lips, barely audible but enough to stir her concern.

Her eyes narrowed with worry as she stood and approached the bed, calling his name softly, “Atharv…?”

There was no response.