Just A Friend?

Chapter Thirty-Eight

They stood there, surrounded by the familiar hum of the kitchen—a place usually filled with the comforting aroma of spices and the gentle clatter of utensils. But today, the room felt different, heavy with the weight of unspoken words.

"Why, dear? What's happened? You're not yourself today," Sridevi asked, her voice laced with a gentleness that only deepened Sweety's turmoil.

Sweety's gaze remained fixed on the kitchen tiles, unable to meet Sridevi's concerned eyes. The tiles were a warm, inviting cream, a color that usually brought comfort, but now it felt almost mocking in its serenity. She swallowed hard, the words forming a tangled mess in her throat, too afraid to surface.

"I... I... th-that... I..." Sweety stammered, the words escaping her like fragile whispers, each syllable fighting to break free.

Sridevi stepped closer, laying a comforting hand on Sweety's shoulder. The touch was light, almost imperceptible, but it carried with it an ocean of reassurance. "Okay, relax. Calm down, dear. You don't have to be nervous around me," she said, her voice a soothing balm to Sweety's frayed nerves. "What's the matter? It's so rare to see you like this. Don't stress. Just tell me whatever you want to say."

The kindness in Sridevi's voice wrapped around Sweety like a protective blanket, offering warmth and security in a moment of vulnerability. It was the kind of voice that could ease the most troubled heart, and for a brief moment, Sweety allowed herself to be enveloped in that maternal comfort. She finally looked up, her eyes meeting Sridevi's, and saw not judgment, but an endless well of understanding.

Taking a deep breath, Sweety steadied herself, willing her heartbeat to slow down. She knew that once the words left her lips, there would be no turning back, and that truth terrified her. But she also knew she couldn't keep these feelings locked away any longer. They were like a ticking bomb, counting down to their own inevitable explosion.

"I'm really sorry for causing so much trouble," Sweety began, her voice trembling with the weight of her guilt. "I feel so guilty, knowing that I'm the reason for Prabhas's condition now."

"No, you—" Sridevi started, but Sweety cut her off, her voice firm despite the tears welling in her eyes.

"No, please, let me speak," Sweety interrupted, her tone filled with a quiet desperation. Sridevi nodded, falling silent, giving Sweety the space she needed to unburden her soul.

"Even though I left without a word all those years ago, you welcomed me back with open arms," Sweety continued, her voice cracking with emotion. "But I didn't consider your feelings back then. Honestly, I never missed home because you all made me feel like I never left. You took me in as if nothing had changed, even after I broke your son's heart."

She paused, the silence heavy with regret. Sridevi's eyes glistened with unshed tears, but she remained silent, knowing that Sweety needed to let it all out.

"I'm so sorry, darling," Sweety said, her voice barely above a whisper. "You and Uncle keep trying to console me, telling me I'm not to blame for Prabhas's condition, but I can't lie to myself. I can't fool my own conscience. I know deep down that I'm the reason for everything that's happened to him, to all of you. I can't stop blaming myself. Not after what I've done to him."

A single tear escaped Sweety's eye, sliding down her cheek like a drop of liquid sorrow. It wasn't just guilt that weighed on her; it was the knowledge that what she had done could never be undone. The guilt gnawed at her, not just sitting on her chest, but burrowing deep into her mind, where it festered and grew.

"Even if you all can forgive me, I can't forgive myself," Sweety said, her voice thick with emotion. "I'm a failure, darling. But Prabhas... Prabhas is a gem. He's the most amazing person I've ever met. He did so much for me, and how did I repay him? By breaking his heart? I'm the cruellest creature God ever created."