Unconditional Love

17. Unspoken

"Where are we?" Virat asked, opening his eyes as Rohit helped him sit on the bed.

"It's my apartment," Rohit replied, gently placing Virat's hand on the pillow.

Virat pulled his hand back from Rohit's hold. "Thank you for the help, Mr. Sharma. I can go back to my place. Sorry for being a trouble," he said, standing up from the bed.

Rohit sighed upon hearing "Mr. Sharma" from him again, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything. He simply followed Virat as he stepped outside. He noticed Virat holding onto the pillar for support, trying to stabilize himself.

"Sir, please don't be stubborn. You're not in a state to go home— you're extremely weak right now," Rohit said, holding Virat's other hand to steady him.

"You made me weak, Rohit—you made me weak," Virat said accusingly, turning to face him. His voice softened, hurt evident in his eyes. "Why, Rohit? Am I that bad?" he whispered, the pain of Rohit's behavior etched into every word.

Rohit looked down, unable to give an answer. After five minutes, Aman arrived. Virat noticed the car and, despite stumbling from weakness, managed to get in. Aman quickly supported him and helped secure the seatbelt.

Aman glanced at Rohit, who stood there helplessly, tears welling in his eyes. Aman wanted to ask what was going on, why Rohit seemed so lost and broken.

"Drive, Aman," Virat's voice broke the silence, and Aman obliged, leaving Rohit standing there, alone.

Rohit returned to his apartment and cried himself to sleep, haunted by everything Virat had said to him. The words replayed in his mind like a relentless echo, each one cutting deeper.

He wanted to scream at Virat, to tell him Virat wasn't bad, to explain that it was his own lack of courage that was to blame. He was terrified of others speaking ill about Virat, the person he knew as the best— someone who cared deeply for those close to him.

Aman reached Virat's place and helped him settle in his bedroom. He brought him some soup and a sandwich to eat. "You have to eat, Bhai—I need you, please," he said, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Virat gently wiped Aman's tears and, for his sake, started eating the food.

Virat was the only family Aman had, and seeing his brother—his guide, his strength—so weak broke his heart. This was the first time Aman had seen Virat affected by someone. Over time, he had noticed the way Virat's gaze lingered on Rohit, the subtle shifts in his demeanor whenever Rohit was around.

Rohit's kindness had brought an unusual calm to Virat's otherwise chaotic world. For years, Virat had immersed himself in work, never pausing to think about himself. But for the first time, he had dared to prioritize his own emotions—only for it to unravel in a way he never anticipated.

Aman was determined to get to the bottom of this. He needed to know why Rohit had distanced himself from Virat so drastically. Tomorrow, he would confront Rohit—no matter what.

After wrapping up everything, Aman sat beside Virat, who was staring blankly at the night sky. Gently, Aman took Virat's head and laid it in his lap. "Do you remember how you used to do this for me whenever I felt sick as a child? Let me take care of you today, Bhai," Aman said softly.

Virat didn't respond with words. Instead, he took Aman's hand and placed it in his hair, silently asking him to caress it.

Virat closed his eyes, feeling the comfort of his brother's presence. Aman's heart ached, and a lone tear slipped down his cheek as he watched his strong, unshakable brother in this vulnerable state.