63|●Healing Hearts

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I am publishing the whole book today it's roughly six chapter and I thought why delay it so here's the updates kindly vote🙏🏿

I am publishing the whole book today it's roughly six chapter and I thought why delay it so here's the updates kindly vote🙏🏿

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Goodbyes are the hardest. But it hurts even more when you don’t even get the chance to say them to the person you love.

I stood in silence, watching my father as he stood before the fridge in my mother’s bakery, his tired eyes fixed on the photograph stuck to it. His expression was unreadable, but the weight of his emotions filled the air, pressing against my chest.

He had loved her fiercely, yet life had been cruel. Where I had at least been able to spend years with my mother until the day she died, he had been robbed of that time. He never got the chance to hold her hand in those final moments, never got to say goodbye properly.

Their love had been pure, but society had deemed it unacceptable. And no matter how deeply they had loved, the consequences had always been unfair.

A month had passed since my father recovered from his illness. When I told him how Avivansh had found my mother’s bakery for me—the last place where our memories of her still lived—he had insisted on coming here.

Now, as he stood there, taking it all in, I could feel the grief he had buried for years slowly surfacing.

And I didn’t dare to break the moment.

The silence between us was heavy, filled with unspoken regrets and what-ifs. I walked up to him, standing beside him, not saying a word. His eyes were distant, lost in memories that were too painful to relive, yet too precious to forget. His hands trembled ever so slightly, his lips pressed together as he barely held back the tears.

My heart ached seeing him like this. Why was destiny so cruel to us?

I slid my hands through his arm, wrapping them tightly around him, offering the only support I could. A shudder ran through his body, and finally, the dam broke. Tears fell silently down his weathered face as he clutched the photograph as if it were the last piece of her he had left.

"Only if I had shown courage back then," he whispered, his voice thick with guilt. "I would have stopped her from going… I would have stood up for her… for our relationship… for us."

His voice cracked, the weight of his regret pressing down on both of us. I could feel the years of pain laced within his words, the burden he had carried alone.

"It was all my fault," he continued, shaking his head. "Why was I such a coward? Why did I let her go?"

His shoulders slumped, and he let out a shaky breath. I tightened my hold on him, gently rubbing his arms in comfort.

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