•𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐔𝐧𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐖𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐰!•

24. Caring!

A D H W I T

Venice.

The name alone stirred something within me—a sense of quiet romance, beauty, and healing that seemed perfect for her. Nakshatra deserved more than words, more than a simple thank-you for everything she’d done for me. She didn’t just help me survive; she made me feel alive again.

The idea had been brewing in my mind for days, and now it felt right. Venice wasn’t just a place—it was a promise. A promise to her that I’d try to let go of my past, to cherish the life she was helping me rebuild.

I called it a business trip to keep things simple. I knew she’d argue if I told her the real reason. That’s Nakshatra for you—always selfless, always putting others first.

On the day of the flight, I walked into the living room, tickets in hand. She was curled up on the couch, lost in a book. The sunlight streaming through the window painted her in a soft glow, and for a moment, I just stood there, taking it in.

“Pack your bags,” I said, trying to keep my tone casual.

She looked up, confused. “What? Why?”

“Business trip,” I replied, holding up the tickets.

Her eyes narrowed. “Since when do you need me for business trips?”

“Since now,” I said with a smirk. “Come on, Nakshatra. Humor me.”

She hesitated, suspicion flickering in her eyes, but curiosity won out. “Fine,” she said, closing her book. “But you’d better explain later.”

Venice greeted us with its timeless magic. The canals shimmered under the sun, gondolas glided gracefully, and the air carried a quiet hum of life. I watched her as she stepped out of the water taxi, her eyes widening with wonder.

“This…” she breathed, turning to me, “this is incredible.”

I didn’t reply immediately, too caught up in the way her excitement lit up her face. “Yeah,” I said finally, my voice softer than I intended.

Over the next few days, I made sure she experienced the city to its fullest. We wandered through Piazza San Marco, her laughter echoing as she tried to feed the pigeons. I took her to hidden cafés where the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the sound of soft Italian music.

One night, under a sky full of stars, we boarded a gondola. She sat across from me, her face glowing in the lantern light.

“This doesn’t feel like a business trip,” she said, her tone teasing.

“Maybe it’s not,” I admitted, leaning back against the cushioned seat.

Her playful smile faltered, replaced by something softer. “What is it, then?”

I hesitated, gathering my thoughts. “It’s… my way of thanking you. For everything. For being there when I didn’t even know how to ask for help. For putting me back together when I didn’t think it was possible.”

Her expression softened, her eyes glistening. “Adhwit, you don’t have to thank me. I did it because I wanted to, not because I expected anything in return.”