Estranged lovers

Chapter 32

AUTHOR'S POV

ANNIKA & SIDDHARTH

The drive home had been eerily silent. Siddharth's eyes had remained fixed on the road, his jaw clenched, while Annika stared out of the window, avoiding his gaze.

The tension that had built in the bar still clung to her, heavy and oppressive. Every time she had glanced at him, he had been looking away, his expression unreadable. But something had shifted in him, the coldness, the tension.

The distance between them seemed to grow with each passing second.

When they finally arrived at the house, Annika stepped out of the car without waiting for him, her heels clicking sharply against the pavement. She couldn't stay there with him anymore, not with the emotions swirling around them. She wanted space.

But Siddharth was already behind her, following her through the front door with a speed that almost startled her. He was still as cold as he had been all night, his eyes hard as he watched her move toward the staircase.

"Annika," he spoke, his voice low, a chill running through it, his words like a command.

She froze mid-step. He hadn't said her name in that tone in weeks. And never in that tone, not with that dark edge to it. Her breath hitched, and she turned to face him. "What is it now, Siddharth?"

He was standing in the doorway, his posture relaxed and calculative. He crossed his arms over his chest, eyes narrowing slightly.

"Why did you back away from me earlier?" His voice was almost accusatory.

Annika felt her stomach churn. She was trembling.

The memory of his touch, the way his fingers had lingered on her skin. It was still burning her, but there was also that rush of fear, of memories from the past she had never fully shared with him.

She wanted to explain, but how could she? How could she tell him the truth about the things she had been trying so hard to bury?

"I—I can't do this, Siddharth," Annika's voice faltered, her breath shaky.

She wasn't sure what she was afraid of more; him or herself. "You're always so cold, and then you get... too close. I don't know what you want from me."

Siddharth's eyes flickered, a sharp edge of frustration creeping into his features. He took a step toward her, his presence suffocating. His fingers twitched as if he wanted to reach out, but he held back.

"Tell me what you're afraid of, Annika," he demanded, his voice low, almost threatening. "What happened tonight? Why do you keep pushing me away? Are you afraid of me?"

The accusation in his voice made her flinch. "No," she whispered, stepping back, her chest tightening. "I'm not afraid of you. I'm afraid of... what happens when I get too close."

Siddharth studied her for a long moment, and then something in his gaze changed, flickering with something unreadable. But before he could say anything, Annika's emotions overwhelmed her. She felt her knees weaken, and before she knew it, she was standing there, trembling as she fought to hold back tears.

"Why... why do you have to be like this?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. She didn't even know what she meant by it.

All she knew was that the walls she had built for so long were starting to crack, and the fear was consuming her. "You don't even... look at me. You don't care about me."

Siddharth's expression faltered for a brief second, a flash of something almost human crossing his face before he quickly masked it. "I do care," he muttered, the words harsher than they should've been. "But you don't make it easy. You keep pushing me away every time I try to—"