Unveiled promises

.13.

×I don't want a divorce, Aarav×

|AARAV|

I woke up, disoriented, the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. I turned and froze.

There she was-lying next to me.

For a moment, I questioned if I was still dreaming. She hadn't been there last night, but now, here she was, so close I could trace every detail of her face.

Her lashes rested softly on her cheeks, long and dark. Her lips-slightly parted-looked so full, so inviting, like they were made to be kissed.

Her dark hair spilled out across the pillow, tousled, framing her face so perfectly. Her skin, smooth and almost glowing in the soft light, had a freckle on her left cheek that caught my eye, so subtle yet so charming.

I couldn't tear my eyes away from her. I watched the rise and fall of her chest, the way she breathed quietly, peacefully. It was like she'd dropped all the walls she built up when she was awake. In her sleep, I saw her softness-the side of her I rarely got to see.

I longed to reach out, to touch her, but I stayed still, terrified of disturbing the peace of the moment. Still, even from here, with just the smallest shift of her lips or hand, I was completely consumed by her.

In everything that was her-her beauty, her vulnerability, the way she looked in the stillness of the morning.

For a brief moment, I let myself forget everything else and just watched her, letting the sight of her fill me.

I eventually moved to touch her, but she felt so delicate, so fragile under my fingers. Instead, I just took one last look before standing up.

After freshening up and getting ready, I came out to find her sitting on the bed, sipping her morning coffee.

"Have your coffee," she said, nodding toward another cup on the table.

I caught my reflection in the mirror and teased, "Well, is this all because of that one picture?"

She didn't even flinch. "Obviously not. And this isn't just for one night. I know that couch isn't comfortable for you, and I'm not sleeping there either, so it's fine to compromise a little." Her words were casual, but they hit me like a gut punch.

"If you wanted to come back late last night, you could've at least called me," I said, my voice coming out more stiffly than I intended.

She stood up, her eyes glinting with something I couldn't read. "The way you were sleeping, I'm glad I didn't call," she said.

I felt a twist in my chest, like my heart was reacting to something I couldn't quite grasp.

"Dad called me last night," she added, standing a little farther away from me, making the space between us feel much larger than it was.

"Why?" My muscles tensed, a knot forming in my stomach.

"He wants me to divorce you," she said, and my heart seemed to stop, pounding against my ribs.

I masked my feelings, my voice steady despite the storm inside me. "You know I won't sign anything."

"I told him no," she replied, her gaze unwavering.

I studied her, trying to understand. "So you want a divorce, right?"

She shook her head slowly, and my pulse quickened, the confusion deepening.

"Not right now," she said, and my eyebrows arched in disbelief.

"You were so determined just days ago. What changed?" I asked, struggling to process it all.