•𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐔𝐧𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐖𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐰!•

23. Healing him.

N A K S H A T R A

As the soft melody of the guitar faded into the quiet of the room, Adhwit finally let himself relax. He leaned back against the couch, his head finding its way onto my lap as his exhaustion took over. His eyes fluttered closed, and his breathing began to even out, the weight of the day seemingly lifting off his shoulders.

I brushed a stray strand of hair from his face, my fingers lingering for a moment. His vulnerability tugged at my heart—this man who carried so much pain, yet still managed to be kind, gentle, and loyal.

My thoughts spiraled as I looked at him. Rhea must have been so lucky, I thought. To have someone love her this deeply, even years after she was gone. A man crying for a woman, grieving her so profoundly, is such a rare thing.

A pang of longing surged through me, unbidden. What if I never find someone like him? Someone who could love me so fiercely, so selflessly? Someone who would stay loyal through the storms, by my side no matter what?

I sighed quietly, my fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns in his hair. Was it selfish of me to wish for a love like this, knowing how much pain it had brought him? Could I even dare to hope for someone who would cherish me the way he cherished Rhea?

Adhwit stirred slightly, murmuring something incoherent in his sleep. My chest tightened. Even in his dreams, he seemed burdened, as though the memories of his past refused to leave him in peace.

“Adhwit,” I whispered, barely audible, “you’re so much more than your pain. You deserve to heal, to find happiness again.”

I didn’t know if I was saying it for his sake or mine. Perhaps it was both.

The thought lingered in my mind, bittersweet and unrelenting. What if I find someone like him? Or… what if he’s the one I’m meant to find?

I shook my head, chiding myself silently. Now wasn’t the time to think about my feelings. This moment was about him—about helping him heal, about being there for him when he needed someone the most.

But as I sat there, cradling his head in my lap, I couldn’t help but wonder: would there ever come a day when he might look at me the way he once looked at her?

The room remained wrapped in silence for a while, save for the gentle rhythm of Adhwit’s breathing. I didn’t move, afraid that any sudden motion might stir him from this rare moment of rest. But soon, his lashes fluttered, and a quiet hum left his lips as he stirred awake.

"Did I fall asleep?" His voice was rough with drowsiness, his gaze hazy as he blinked up at me.

I smiled softly. "A little."

He exhaled, rubbing his face before sitting up. "Sorry. I must be bad company."

"You’re not," I said quickly, then hesitated before adding, "You needed the rest."

Adhwit glanced at me for a moment, something unreadable flickering in his eyes before he ran a hand through his hair. "Let’s put on a movie," he murmured, perhaps an attempt to shake off the heaviness that lingered in the air.

I nodded and reached for the remote, scrolling through the options. "Something light?"

"Yeah," he agreed, leaning back against the couch.

We settled on a comedy, but even as the screen lit up with playful banter and laughter, my attention kept drifting back to him. He looked better now, more awake, but there was still a shadow in his eyes, one I had seen too many times before.