YOU NEVER WALK ALONE

56- Their destruction

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AUTHOR'S POV-

Rashvik sat beside her, his fingers gently wrapped around hers-firm, unwavering, like an anchor refusing to let go. As if releasing her hand for even a second would cause her to slip away, vanish from his life like a fading dream. His thumb lightly traced circles on her skin, a silent apology, a desperate plea to stay connected.

She spoke softly to Prachi and Ananya, her voice faint and trembling, but Rashvik barely registered the words. His mind was elsewhere-drowning in guilt, caught in the whirlwind of emotions that refused to let him breathe. The revelation of his feelings, once a source of quiet joy, now weighed heavy on him like a sin. How could he have let it come to this?

Images flashed in his mind, the unspoken pain in her eyes, the silence she had endured, the strength she had been forced to wear like armor. And all the while, he had stood on the sidelines, blind to her struggles, his love unspoken, his support too delayed.

He wanted to say something-anything. But fear clutched his throat like a vice. The confidence he'd built in the past week, had crumbled within mere hours. Now, words felt heavy, stuck at the edge of his tongue. He couldn't meet her eyes. Not when she told a story of resilience he should have known, should have shielded her from.

Zoned out, his eyes locked on a distant corner of the room, he was pulled back to reality by a soft touch on his arm.

"Mr. Singh?" Sarakshi's voice was hoarse, raw from crying, but still carried that unmistakable gentleness only she possessed.

Rashvik blinked, startled, and turned to her, trying to mask the storm within. As their eyes met, guilt surged through him more-her red, swollen eyes a silent testament to the pain she had borne. His gaze faltered, dropping to their intertwined hands. A knot formed in his throat.

"What are you thinking?" she asked, her voice like a whisper on broken glass.

He shook his head, his voice barely audible. "Nothing..." But the lie felt like lead on his tongue.

Still holding her hand, he brought it to his chest, his heartbeat frantic beneath her palm. "Are you... are you okay?" he asked, his voice thick with unshed emotion, his other hand moving instinctively to rest on her waist-a subtle gesture of reassurance, of protection, of presence.

"I'm fine," she said, though her voice trembled. Her hands reached for his, enclosing them with a gentleness that made his chest ache. "Really, I'm fine," she added, looking up at him with soft eyes that shimmered-not with pain, but with something far more profound. Love. Forgiveness. Trust.

"Don't worry, Mr. Singh," she whispered, and in those four words, she offered him a lifeline.

Rashvik finally lifted his gaze, letting it rest on her for the first time in hours. The corners of his lips tugged upward, forming a small, tentative smile. He turned her hand, pressing a tender kiss to the back of it-reverent, lingering.

And in that moment, wrapped in quiet solace, neither of them said the words they were both thinking, but both understood them just the same.

"I want to go home," she mumbled with a small pout, her lips trembling slightly as her gaze shifted from Rashvik to Prachi and Ananya. Her big, tear-glazed eyes widened in an attempt to look adorable-her best version of puppy eyes, despite the exhaustion pulling at her features.

All three of them chuckled softly, the sound like a gentle breeze breaking through the heavy silence. Prachi leaned in and affectionately ruffled her hair, while Rashvik reached out and cupped her cheeks with both hands-so tenderly, it was as if she were made of glass.