FATE

chapter 17

Y/N’s POV

I stayed in the living room, letting the memories wash over me, unable to fight them off.

The more I tried to push them away, the stronger they clung, like invisible chains holding me in place.

I could still remember the feel of the cold floor against my skin as I huddled with Durva  begging him to stay quiet, to keep his little whimpers down so Ajay wouldn’t hear us.

“You’re pathetic,” he had sneered once, his voice dripping with disgust.

I remember shrinking back, holding Durva  tighter as his little fingers clung to my shirt, feeling helpless, feeling small.

His words had slashed through me like knives, leaving invisible wounds that I couldn’t heal.

My fingers twisted into the fabric of the sofa, grounding myself in the present, but it was like the past was swallowing me whole.

The way Ajay would trap me with just a look, the anger simmering beneath his calm facade.

He’d always known how to cut me down without a single touch, breaking me piece by piece.

And when he did raise his hand… those memories burned the most.

I remembered the time he’d pushed me against the wall, his grip bruising my arm as he whispered threats in my ear, his voice cold, calculated.

I couldn’t even scream—he had taken that from me, my voice, my courage, everything I’d once been.

The fear was paralyzing, a raw, choking terror that had me frozen in place, unable to fight back.

And Durva … He had seen it all.

I could never forgive myself for that.

My chest tightened as another wave of guilt washed over me, a reminder of all the times I hadn’t been able to protect him, all the moments he’d had to watch me fall apart.

He shouldn’t have had to know that kind of fear, that kind of pain.

But he’d witnessed it all, and I couldn’t change that.

My hands shook as I wiped the tears from my face, staring into the darkness.

Even here, in a new country, with thousands of miles between us and Ajay, I couldn’t escape him.

He was everywhere, haunting me in shadows, in silence, in every reminder of what I had endured.

I closed my eyes, letting the darkness consume me, letting the memories play out, as I sat there alone, reliving every painful moment in the stillness of the night.

There was no comfort, no peace, only the relentless weight of everything I had left behind but could never truly escape.

Y/N’s POV

The morning sun streamed through the thin curtains of our apartment, casting a soft glow over the room.

I blinked against the light, slowly waking from a restless night filled with fragmented dreams that turned into nightmares.

The shadows of my memories were still lingering, but as I turned to look at Durva sleeping peacefully in his bed, I felt a rush of warmth.

His small chest rose and fell rhythmically, and for a moment, I allowed myself to feel a flicker of normalcy, a sense of safety.

I tiptoed into the kitchen to prepare breakfast, trying to shake off the weight from the previous night.

The smell of toast and eggs filled the air, momentarily pushing the dark thoughts aside.

As I cooked, I thought back to our dinner with BTS.

Durva’s excitement had been infectious, and even if I had felt a shadow lurking over me, it had been nice to see him happy, to watch him laugh.

I hoped that maybe, just maybe, we could carve out a new life here—one free from Ajay’s influence.

“Mom?” Durva’s sleepy voice broke through my thoughts, and I turned to see him rubbing his eyes as he stumbled into the kitchen.

“Good morning, sweetheart!” I replied, forcing a bright smile as I flipped the eggs. “How did you sleep?”

“Okay, I think,” he yawned, still half-asleep. “Did we really meet BTS? Like, really?”

I chuckled softly, my heart warming at his childlike wonder. “Yes, we did! And they were so nice, remember?”

He nodded, his face lighting up at the memory. “Can we watch Run BTS later? I want to see them again!”

“Of course! We can have a little marathon after school,” I said, pouring his favorite cereal into a bowl.

As we settled down to eat, I noticed Taemin’s excitement seemed to hide something else—a shadow of worry beneath the surface.

I wanted to ask about his day at school, to see if he was feeling okay after the incident with his classmates, but I hesitated.

I didn’t want to pry, especially not after last night.

“Did you finish your homework?” I asked instead, hoping to steer the conversation to lighter topics.

“Yeah! It was easy. I made a drawing of us with BTS,” he beamed, and I felt my heart swell with pride. “I’ll show you later!”

“Can’t wait!” I said, trying to match his enthusiasm.

But deep down, I felt that nagging worry—what if he was struggling more than he let on? What if the kids at school were still teasing him?

After breakfast, I decided to tackle my own worries. I needed to find a job soon.

Durva had started school, and while I wanted him to focus on making friends and settling in, I couldn’t shake the feeling that our financial situation was precarious.

As I washed the dishes, I found myself daydreaming about what kind of work I could do.

Maybe a part-time job at a café or a bookstore? Something simple, something that would allow me to be there for Durva while still providing for us.

The thought of balancing work and motherhood was daunting, but I had to try.

Once the dishes were done, I glanced at the clock and realized it was almost time for Durva to head to school. “All right, buddy! Let’s get you ready!”

With a newfound determination, I helped Durva get dressed, picking out his favorite shirt featuring a cartoon character.

We moved through our morning routine with ease, laughter echoing in our small apartment, pushing the darkness back just a little bit more.

As we stepped out into the bright morning, I took a deep breath, letting the fresh air fill my lungs.

Today was a new day, and for better or worse, it was ours to face.