Estranged lovers

Chapter 37

AUTHOR'S POV

The days that followed the night Annika had opened up to him were nothing short of transformative.

The walls she had so carefully built around herself were starting to show cracks, and each crack he gently worked at, each moment he spent with her, felt like an unspoken promise to be her safe place.

It wasn't easy, though. Annika was still guarded, still unsure of what she was doing..... what they were doing... but Siddharth was patient. He knew healing didn't happen overnight. But every small step she took toward him made him believe that they were both capable of something more than what they had started with.

Each day, he gave her space, but at the same time, he stayed close enough to be her anchor when the waves of her fears and insecurities came crashing in. And slowly, they began to settle into a new rhythm—one that was less about avoiding each other, less about keeping things at arm's length. They had stopped pretending.

One night, when they were both sitting in the living room, Siddharth broke the silence that had settled between them. His eyes were focused on her, his gaze soft but intense.

"Annika," he said, his voice low, "Tell me something. Tell me all your fears."

She looked up from her book, her gaze wary, the usual hesitation in her eyes. She had grown accustomed to keeping things locked away, but there was something in his tone, something in the way he looked at her, that made her feel safe.

"I—I don't know if I can," she murmured, her voice small.

Siddharth shifted closer, his voice steady but firm. "You don't have to do it all at once, but I need you to trust me. I need to understand. I want to help you."

"Remember what we talked about. We spend 2 hours everyday working on us." Siddharth says

Her fingers tightened around the edge of the book, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she nodded slowly.

"I'm afraid of being alone," she said quietly, her voice almost a whisper. "Afraid of pushing everyone away, of never letting anyone close enough to hurt me again, but... also afraid of being too alone, of being left behind."

Siddharth's heart tightened at the rawness in her voice. He could hear the weight of years of isolation, years of holding herself together with no one to turn to. He leaned forward, reaching out to place his hand gently on hers.

"You won't be alone, Annika. Not as long as I'm here," he said, his words low, but filled with something steady, something that came from deep within him. "I'm not going anywhere."

She looked up at him, those walls slowly crumbling in the quiet intimacy of the moment. His thumb gently traced over the back of her hand, and she let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

"But you don't understand," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I can't just... trust. Not easily. I've been hurt too many times. I don't know how to stop running."

Siddharth's heart clenched at her words, but he didn't retreat. Instead, he moved closer, leaning in so that they were almost nose to nose, his voice barely above a murmur.

"You don't have to stop running all at once. Just take a step forward, one small step, and I'll be here. Every time."

Her breath caught in her throat as he moved closer, their foreheads almost touching now, his scent, a mix of wood and cologne, enveloping her. The air between them felt charged, alive with the unspoken connection that had been building ever since that night she opened up to him.

Annika hesitated, then slowly, almost shyly, she reached up and placed her hand against his chest. She could feel his heart beating beneath her palm, steady and strong.