ll Ghuroor Ke Badal غرور کے بادل ll

17.** Chapter Seventeen**

Rohan stood frozen, his eyes fixed on Meher as she curled further into herself, her knees drawn tightly to her chest. Her wide, terrified eyes watched him as if he were a predator stalking its prey. The sight made something stir within him—a strange mixture of frustration, guilt, and helplessness. He let out a sharp breath, raking a hand through his already tousled hair, his fingers gripping at the strands as if to ground himself.

The silence between them felt suffocating. Finally, unable to bear the weight of her gaze, he stepped forward slightly, his movements slow and deliberate, careful not to startle her further. He extended a hand toward her, palm up, in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture, though his own agitation made it tremble slightly.

"Look," he began, his voice low and strained, "I won't hurt you, okay? I swear. Just...please, don't look at me like that." His words faltered as he caught the way she flinched ever so slightly, her body curling tighter as though she could make herself invisible. His jaw clenched, and his hand fell back to his side, his chest tightening with an emotion he couldn't quite place.

"I never meant for any of this to happen," he continued, his voice cracking slightly. "It was never my intention to hurt you or your family." He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his frustration mounting as the words spilled out of him. "What happened to your father—I didn't plan that. It was a mistake, do you hear me? A goddamned mistake."

His emerald eyes darkened with emotion as he spoke, his brows knitting together in a mixture of guilt and anger. He began to pace the small space at the foot of the bed, his hands gesturing wildly as he ranted, unable to stop the flood of words pouring out. "I tried to help, you know? When your father was in the hospital, I made sure the doctors knew. I told them to take care of him." He stopped pacing for a moment, turning to look at her as if searching for some recognition, some acknowledgment of his effort. But her wide eyes remained fixed on him, unblinking and filled with fear.

Rohan let out a sharp, exasperated laugh, shaking his head. "But none of that matters now, does it? Because all you see is the monster—the man who's done nothing but ruin your life. And maybe I deserve that. Maybe I do." His voice rose slightly, his frustration bubbling to the surface as he ran his hands through his hair again, tugging at the strands.

"But you have to understand," he said, his tone shifting to one of pleading, though the edge of anger still lingered, "I can't afford for this to go public. If it does, it won't just ruin me—it'll ruin my father, my family's legacy. Everything we've built, everything he's worked for—it'll all be gone. Do you get that?" His voice cracked with desperation, his emerald eyes burning with an intensity that only seemed to deepen Meher's fear.

As he continued to speak, his movements grew more erratic. He gestured wildly with his hands, his voice alternating between anger and despair. "I've tried to fix this. I've tried, but you—you're making it impossible! Don't you see that? You're forcing my hand!" His breathing grew heavier, and he turned away from her, running a hand over his face as if trying to compose himself.

Meher watched him, her body trembling as she pressed herself further against the headboard. Her hands clutched the fabric of her dupatta tightly, her knuckles white as her fingers trembled. Her wide eyes followed his every move, her breath shallow and rapid. The sight of his agitation, his pacing, his gestures—it all made her heart race faster. To her, he looked like a caged animal, dangerous and unpredictable. The more he spoke, the more frightened she became.

Rohan suddenly stopped pacing, his back to her as he gripped the edge of a nearby chair, his knuckles turning white. He let out a bitter laugh, his shoulders slumping. "You think I want this?" he asked, his voice quiet but laced with frustration. "You think I enjoy being the villain in your story? I didn't choose this, Meherbano. But now...now I don't have a choice."