The Space Between

Fractured Heart

Savi sat on the edge of the bed, her face pale, her lips pressed into a tight line. Her left palm was wrapped in a hastily tied cloth, already seeping with crimson. She cradled it close to her chest, the pain in her hand nothing compared to the ache in her heart. Across the room, Rajat hovered near the door, guilt and helplessness etched into every line of his face.

"Let me do the first aid," he said softly, stepping forward.

"Don't," Savi spat, her voice cutting through the room like ice. Her gaze locked on him, her eyes blazing with a mix of anger and unshed tears. "I'll manage."

"Savi..." His voice cracked, and he stopped in his tracks. "Mai tumhe aise apne aap ko chot pohochate hue nahi dekh sakta please.."

"Nahi dekh sake?" she scoffed bitterly, her laughter devoid of humor. "That's what you're best at, isn't it? Watching things happen. Watching me trust you blindly while you lied to my face."

Rajat winced as if she had struck him. He knew she had every right to lash out at him, but the words cut deeper than he could have anticipated.

"I didn't want to hurt you," he began, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yet you did," Savi bit out, her voice trembling. "You knew what my mother means to me, what my family means to me. You promised, Rajat! You looked me in the eye and promised to help us find the truth. And all the while, you hid it to protect them."

"I had no choice," he murmured, his guilt weighing down each syllable.

"No choice?" She stood abruptly, clutching her injured hand tighter as the motion jostled it. The pain made her wince, but she ignored it. "You always had a choice. You chose them—your past, your ex-wife, your son—over the family you swore to stand by."

"I wasn't choosing them over you," he said desperately. "I was trying to protect my son."

"And I was trying to protect my mother!" she shot back, her voice breaking. "Do you know how it feels to look into the eyes of someone you've started to... to trust, and realize they were lying to you all along?"

Her hesitation on the word "trust" didn't go unnoticed by Rajat, and it twisted the knife in his chest. She had started trusting him—maybe even caring for him—and he had shattered it all.

"I made a mistake," he admitted, his voice raw. "A terrible mistake. But, Savi, I swear on everything I hold dear, I didn't mean to betray you."

She turned away from him, her shoulders trembling. "Your intentions don't matter, Rajat. Your actions do."

Her words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the widening chasm between them. He took a tentative step forward, his hand reaching out instinctively.

"You're bleeding," he said quietly. "At least let me—"

"I said no!" she snapped, spinning around to face him. "Don't you dare pretend you care about me now."

The venom in her tone made him falter. He wanted to tell her that he did care—more than he'd ever realized until this moment. But how could he expect her to believe him now, when all she saw was betrayal?

"You think I don't care?" he asked, his voice breaking under the weight of his emotions. "Savi, every time you look at me like that—like you hate me—it's like a knife in my chest. I would do anything to undo what I've done, to make this right."

"Bas! Ab aur mat kaho. You always think you know what's best. But you don't. Tum nahi samajhte, aur tumne kabhi samajhne ki koshish bhi nahi ki."

She paused for a moment, then hit him hard with a question he knew the answer to yet could not bring himself to answer.