His Childish Bride

64//💕Box Of Memories

~Ch.65 has been published on Stck

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As soon as Kul Purohit Ji leaves, the palace starts returning to its usual rhythm. Some family members retreat to their rooms, others resume their work while Kiyansh has other plans. His tiny hands clutch his Adi Mamu's shirt as he eagerly waits for his promised gift. On the other hand, Adwait laughs ruffling his nephew's hair before carrying him away, leaving Kavyansh and Varenya alone.

Kavyansh walks beside Varenya as they make their way upstairs, his hand resting gently on her back, a silent promise of support. The moment they step into their room, Kavyansh heads straight to the closet to change while Varenya lowers herself onto the bed. The instant she does, exhaustion washes over her. Not just the kind that makes her body ache but the kind that presses against her soul, making every breath feel heavier than the last.

A slight tremor begins in her fingers, barely noticeable at first. She clenches her hands into fists, trying to steady herself. But the moment she relaxes, the shaking returns. She takes a deep breath, slow and controlled, forcing herself to calm down. Yet it doesn't help much. Not having any other option left, she reaches towards the nightstand, fingers curling around a small medicine bottle prescribed by Dr. Bhavya. The cap clicks open and she takes out a single pill, placing it on her tongue before washing it down with half a glass of water. She doesn't need to read the label. She already knows what it says. It's for anxiety. For the panic attacks that lingers like a shadow, waiting to pull her back into the past.

Just as she places the glass down, Kavyansh steps out of the closet, now dressed in a tshirt and loose trousers. His sharp eyes find her immediately and in that split second he knows that his Lotus isn't okay. But he doesn't ask because he doesn't need to. The tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers grip the edge of the bed, the way she refuses to meet his gaze- it all tells him what she won't say aloud.

He pulls out his phone from his pant's pocket and sends a quick message to Samarth telling him to come to the palace as Varenya needs a therapy session. He knows she won't ask for help herself. But he refuses to let her fight this battle alone.

Setting his phone aside, Kavyansh walks toward her and kneels in front of her. His large, warm hands reach for hers wrapping around them with gentle strength.

"You want to cry, don't you?" His voice is soft, barely above a whisper.

Varenya stiffens. Her grip on his hands tightens while her nails pressing into his skin.

"No." She says but her voice betrays her. The slight quiver, the way her throat strains around that single word is enough for Kavyansh to understand that his Lotus is lying.

"I remember you telling me that bottling up emotions only makes them heavier. That sometimes, letting them out is the only way to feel lighter." He murmurs while his thumb drawing soothing circles over her skin.

Varenya doesn't respond immediately. Her lips press together with her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. But no matter how hard she tries, her body betrays her. Finally, a single tear escapes the corner of her eye. Then another. And another.

On the other hand, Kavyansh doesn't tell her it's okay. He doesn't ask her to stop. He simply stays there, his hands cradling hers, allowing her the space to release what she has been holding inside. Because he knows no matter how fierce she was today, no matter how ruthlessly she fought, fear still lingers within her. The fear of blood, the fear of losing control.

Varenya was merciless today. Not just out of anger but out of pain, out of fear. Out of the desperate need to protect her son, her family. And now, when the battle is over and the adrenaline has faded, she is left with the weight of her own strength. She doesn't sob. She doesn't make a sound. But Kavyansh can feel her pain in the way her hands clutch his as if he is her only anchor in this storm. So he stays there, kneeling before her, absorbing every tear, every silent plea for comfort, every ounce of fear she is too afraid to speak aloud.