Meant to be yours

Silent morning

The house had finally gone quiet.
Riya and Payal had retreated to their room — still whispering, still laughing softly behind a closed door. The air no longer felt heavy.

Anamika sat on the edge of the bed, her hands clasped loosely in her lap. The night breeze drifted through the half-open window, carrying with it the faint scent of rain and the city.
It was peaceful — but she couldn’t shake the ache in her chest.

Ishika stepped out of the bathroom, toweling her hair dry. “You’re thinking too loudly again,” she said, her tone half teasing, half concerned.

Anamika looked up, smiling faintly. “I can’t help it. My brain doesn’t come with an off switch.”

Ishika tossed the towel aside and climbed onto the bed behind her, looping her arms around Anamika’s waist and resting her chin on her shoulder. “Want me to install one?”

“Tempting,” Anamika murmured, leaning back into her warmth.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The quiet wasn’t heavy anymore — it was comfortable. Healing.

Finally, Ishika asked softly, “You okay?”

Anamika hesitated. “I thought I was. But when I found out about Anshul…”
She swallowed hard. “I felt like I failed Payal. Like I should’ve protected her — somehow. I caused you immense pain.”

Ishika’s arms tightened around her. “You can’t protect people from things you never saw coming, Anu.”

“I know,” Anamika whispered. “But she’s my sister. And when I think about what he did to her…”
Her jaw clenched. “It makes me want to burn the world down.”

Ishika smiled gently against her shoulder. “You kind of did, emotionally. Poor Riya’s still recovering from the ‘wrath of Anamika’ speech.”

That earned her a small laugh. “I didn’t mean to scare her.”

“Mm,” Ishika hummed. “You were terrifying. But also kind of impressive. I’ve never seen you go full protective-Alpha before. I almost melted, you know.”

Anamika turned her head slightly, smiling. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“That’s why I am with you,” Ishika said, pressing a kiss to her temple.

Silence again — softer now. Anamika leaned into her, eyes fluttering shut as the tension slowly left her body. “It’s just… when it comes to hurt, I can’t switch it off. I see them hurting, and I want to take it all away. Even if it breaks me in the process.”

Ishika’s voice softened to a whisper. “That’s what makes you who you are. You don’t just love people — you guard them. But maybe…” she gently turned Anamika’s face toward her, “you can let them guard you sometimes too.”

Anamika met her eyes — steady, warm, grounding. And for the first time that day, she let herself exhale.

“Maybe,” she said quietly. “Starting with you.”

Ishika smiled, brushing her thumb across her cheek. “Good. Because I’m not letting my big bad sugar mommy carry the whole world alone anymore.”

Anamika chuckled softly, resting her forehead against Ishika’s. “Deal.”

They sat like that for a while — no words, no weight, just shared breathing and the quiet hum of something stronger than pain: love that heals without demanding, protects without controlling, stays without asking.

And for the first time in a long while, Anamika drifted off to sleep knowing she wasn’t the only one keeping watch anymore.

The morning light filtered through the curtains — soft, golden, the kind that made the world feel gentler.
Ishika was still half-asleep, sprawled across the bed, hair a mess, one arm hanging off the side, the picture of peaceful chaos.