Unconditional Love

64. Anchored by Family

Aman stayed close to Virat, his fingers clutching at his brother's t-shirt like an anchor.

He was quiet for a long moment, staring blankly at the floor of the balcony.

The breeze ruffled his hair, but it did nothing to ease the heaviness in his chest.

Then, his voice broke the silence, soft and hesitant.

"Bhai..." Aman's fingers tightened unconsciously on Virat's shirt. "Did I... did I ever blame you for... for our parents?"

The words hung in the air, and the moment he said them, all three of them—Virat, Rohit, and Jassi—froze.

Virat's hand, which had been running soothingly over Aman's back, paused for a second.

Rohit's jaw tensed as he exchanged a quick glance with Jassi. None of them had expected Aman to ask that.

Aman slowly turned his head to look at Virat, his eyes wide, searching. "Did I ever say... it was your fault?"

Virat felt his throat tighten, his heart clenching as he glanced at Rohit and Jassi.

Their eyes met for a fleeting second, all three silently acknowledging the same memory—the one night Aman had done exactly that.

But it wasn't really him.

It had been the drugs mixed in his drink that messed with his mind, made him lash out, say things that weren't truly his heart speaking.

And Aman didn't remember it.

Until now... maybe his mind was dragging that buried guilt out in fragments, in nightmares.

Virat took a steady breath and gently cupped Aman's cheek, his thumb brushing away the tear that had just slipped down.

He kept his voice soft, steady. "Why are you asking this, bacha? Did something happen?"

Aman nodded faintly, his fingers twisting nervously in Virat's shirt as he spoke. "I... I had a nightmare," he whispered.

"I was yelling at you. Blaming you. For... for our parents." His voice cracked on the last word, like it was painful to even say it out loud. "I... I was so angry. I was saying horrible things. And it felt so real, bhai. Like I'd done it before."

Virat's hand stilled for a moment, the breath catching in his chest.

Rohit and Jassi stood quietly close, watching, waiting for Virat to respond.

He swallowed hard, lifting Aman's chin gently so their eyes met. "Aman," he started softly, choosing every word carefully, "there was... there was one time."

Virat sighed quietly, the weight of the memory surfacing. "There was... one time," he said softly, meeting Aman's gaze. "But it wasn't your fault."

Aman's eyes widened slightly, filling with tears. "I did...?"

"You weren't yourself," Virat went on, his thumb tracing slow, soothing circles on Aman's cheek, "someone spiked your drink. You were confused, scared... and you said things you didn't mean."

He smiled sadly. "You blamed me that night. Just once. And only because you were hurting."

Aman blinked, his eyes wide, filling with fresh tears. "I did?" His voice was so small.

Virat nodded slowly but firmly. "But you never meant it. I know you didn't. And you never have to feel guilty for that, bacha. I understood, and I still do."