Aarohi And Dev

CHAPTER 62

Aarohi POV

As my hands descended towards his chest, I suppressed a sharp intake of breath, battling to rein in my swirling emotions. Each fleeting contact of my fingers against his skin as I applied the paste sent a shiver cascading down my spine. I meticulously tended to the wound, yet my little finger couldn't resist brushing against his skin, a subtle connection that stirred something within me.

"Please, make it quick," he murmured, his voice wavering, a stark contrast to the confident facade he had projected mere moments ago. A faint smile danced on my lips, a silent acknowledgement that the tension between us was palpable on both ends.

In a mischievous turn, I eased the pace of my movements, deliberately allowing my touch to linger a fraction longer. This time, with a touch more audacity, my little finger grazed his skin purposefully. Before I could continue this dance, his hand shot up, clasping my wrist firmly, catching me off guard.

Our eyes locked, his gaze smouldering with intent. "Careful, Rose," he breathed, his voice husky witha  warning. "Or it’s going to get hard for you."

I swallowed hard, my heart racing at the underlying implication in his words. Swiftly pulling my wrist free from his grip, I redirected my focus to his face, striving to regain my composure. However, the charged atmosphere lingered thickly between us, an undeniable presence impossible to ignore.

As I delicately tended to Dev's wound, a gentle rap on the door shattered the charged silence enveloping us. Dev straightened, breaking the moment as swiftly as it had unfolded.

Devika entered cautiously, her expression reflecting uncertainty as she murmured, "Your brother and mother have arrived." My smile faltered momentarily, but I steadied it, aware that their visit stemmed from concern after days of my intentional avoidance.

I nodded and descended with Devika, a swirl of guilt and anticipation swirling in my heart. The second my mother's gaze met mine, she hurried forward, enveloping me in a tight embrace, showering me with the frantic affection only a mother can bestow. My brother, perpetually the protector, ruffled my hair before pulling me into a comforting hug.

A pang of remorse gripped me, recognizing the extent to which I had distanced myself from them. "I'm sorry, ma, bhai," I whispered, my voice tinged with regret. "I intended to reach out, but I've been grappling with finding the right words."

The weight of the past few days pressed on me, and in that moment, I realized the profound absence their absence had left in my life.

"We are deeply sorry," Mumma began, her voice quivering as her eyes welled up with unshed tears. The weight of her emotions hung palpably in the air, and I could feel a tightening in my own heart.

Bhai drew in a deep breath before speaking, "I failed you. I failed to show you the love you deserved, the love you craved. I’m sorry for every cruel word Dad threw at you, for every wound that wasn’t yours to bear. But most of all, forgive me for my silence, my cowardice when you needed me to fight for you. I can’t undo it. I can only carry this regret, knowing I let you down when it mattered most." His eyes carried a burden of remorse, revealing the guilt that had haunted him for years.

Yet, I harbored no blame towards him, not even for a moment. He was merely a child back then, too young to comprehend or confront the tempest that engulfed us. As he matured, he emerged as a steadfast source of love and support in my life, more than compensating for those lost years.

I had long ago come to terms with the fact that no one was at fault. It was simply the lot that life had dealt me, a reality I had made peace with. Some things, I discovered, were not meant to be. But through my struggles, I had discovered resilience, and in that instant, I recognized that I had never been alone.