Notes of Love

a soft surrender

Manik's thoughts were shattered by the soft creak of the door, and instinctively, his gaze shot toward it. The sight that met his eyes made his heart stumble in his chest. There, framed in the doorway, stood Nandini. But this wasn't the confident, composed woman he had come to know. No, this Nandini was different. Her eyes were red, her cheeks streaked with fresh tear stains, and her posture was hunched—small, fragile, and utterly broken. It was a version of her that he had never seen before, and the sight of her like this sent a sharp pang of guilt and confusion straight through him. What had happened? Why was she crying?

His mind raced, his heart pounding in his chest, as he pushed himself up from the chair, every muscle taut with concern and helplessness. Nandini never came to him like this—vulnerable, shattered, in desperate need of something he couldn't yet understand.

She didn't say anything at first. There was no accusation, no question, just the raw, unspoken pain that seemed to fill the room. Nandini's breath hitched as she took a single, unsteady step toward him, her face twisted in a silent plea. Before he could speak, before he could even process what was happening, she collapsed into his arms.

The weight of her body against his felt like a quiet surrender. Manik barely registered the instinctual way his arms wrapped around her, pulling her close as though he could shield her from whatever storm had brought her to him. There was no room for words now—no explanations, no questions. He could feel the tremors in her body, the way she clung to him as though she feared falling apart without him. His own heart twisted painfully at the realization that this was a woman who needed him, who was leaning on him in ways he had forgotten to let her.

For a long moment, they simply stood there, their bodies pressed together, the world outside falling away as the sounds of her quiet sobs filled the silence. Manik didn't know how to fix it, how to make things right between them, but in this moment, he was just there. He wasn't going to let her go. He wasn't going to turn away.

Slowly, he lifted his hand to the back of her head, fingers threading through the damp strands of her hair. His voice was barely a whisper as he murmured, "Kya hua, Nandu?" The words were thick with worry, with something more—a desperate need to understand, to help her, to bridge the space that had grown between them without either of them noticing until it was too late.

She didn't respond at first. The sobs came slower now, but the tight grip she had on his shirt, the way she refused to let him go, said everything. Her pain was so palpable, so real, it felt like a weight pressing down on both of them. Manik tightened his hold on her, his heart a jumble of conflicting emotions—guilt, fear, confusion. He wanted to fix it, to tell her everything would be okay, but he didn't know how. And so, they stayed like that, wrapped in each other's arms, the only thing between them now the shared rhythm of their breathing.

After what felt like an eternity, Nandini pulled back slightly, her eyes meeting his with a rawness that made his chest ache. Her face was blotchy, her eyes red-rimmed, but there was a certain vulnerability in the way she looked at him that made his heart beat faster. She took a deep, shaky breath and spoke, her voice fragile, "Manik, why... why is it so difficult for us to reconnect? I... I can't stay without you. I can't. I'm sorry for all the times I pushed you away." She sniffled, her voice cracking as she fought to hold herself together, but it was clear she was unraveling. "But this... this distance between us... it's killing me. I feel like I'm losing myself, and I don't know how to fix it... I don't know how to make things right." She clutched his t-shirt in her fists, her nails digging into the fabric, as if trying to anchor herself to him in a world that was spinning too fast.

Manik's heart clenched at the sight of her—so broken, so raw. She had always been so strong, so determined, but right now, she was nothing more than a woman who had been carrying too much weight, too much pain on her own. And he, the one person who was supposed to stand by her, had been the one to add to that burden. He felt sick to his stomach at the thought of how much he'd taken her for granted.