Just A Friend?

Chapter Forty-Two

The first light of dawn pierced through the thick canopy of trees, casting a soft, golden hue over the once-still night and gently rousing the world to life. A solitary ray of sunlight found its way through the window, painting the room in a warm glow that reflected off the glass and danced across the walls of Sweety's room. The warmth kissed her closed eyelids, urging them open. Slowly, reluctantly, Sweety's eyes fluttered, the puffiness and redness a stark reminder of the tears that had streamed down her face throughout the night.

She blinked, her vision clearing as she struggled to shake off the remnants of sleep. The clock on the wall read 8:24 a.m., and with a start, she jerked upright in bed, momentarily disoriented. Her gaze swept across the unfamiliar room, her mind struggling to place herself. Once the fog in her mind cleared, she exhaled shakily, pressing her fingers to her temples, massaging the dull ache that lingered behind her eyes.

A knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts. Her eyes shifted to the elegant door, recognizing the voice that came from the other side.

"Are you awake?" the voice inquired softly, tinged with concern.

Sweety let out a sigh, her voice hoarse and dry from hours of silent crying. "Uh... Yeah," she managed to reply, the words barely audible.

"May I come in?" There was a pause, the silence stretching on for what felt like an eternity. Slowly, she pulled the duvet tighter around her, shielding herself as if it could protect her from the emotional storm that threatened to engulf her. Finally, she nodded to herself, then spoke, "Come in."

The door creaked open, and Rahul stepped inside, his eyes filled with worry. "I'm sorry if I disturbed your sleep," he said gently, his voice filled with an unspoken apology.

"No... I just woke up. I'm already late. Sorry about that," Sweety replied, her voice cracking as she cleared her throat several times, trying to rid it of the roughness that came from disuse.

Rahul's brow furrowed in concern as he studied her. "It's okay. I'm just here to check on you. Mom and Ramya aunty are really worried about you. And honestly, you don't look well yourself. Are you alright?" His eyes searched hers, seeing the exhaustion etched into every line of her face, the redness in her eyes that spoke of sleepless nights and unspoken heartache.

Sweety forced a smile, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a headache, that's all," she said, the lie slipping through her lips, even though the truth weighed heavily on her chest.

"Should I call a doctor? Is it bad?" His concern grew as he took in the paleness of her skin, the fragility that seemed to cling to her every movement.

"No, no! It's bearable. Really, it's nothing. But... can I have my breakfast here? I'm not sure I can make it downstairs," Sweety asked, her voice barely above a whisper, as if admitting this small weakness would shatter the fragile mask she was trying so hard to maintain.

"Of course. Don't strain yourself. I'll have the maid bring breakfast up to you. And if you feel worse, please, just let me know. Get some rest, okay? I'll be in the study room if you need anything. Just call me," Rahul said, his voice gentle but firm, as if willing her to take comfort in his presence, in his offer of help. She nodded, grateful but still feeling the chasm between them.

He turned to leave but hesitated at the door. His hand rested on the doorknob as he turned back to look at her. His eyes lingered on her face, taking in the angelic beauty that still shone through the exhaustion, the sadness. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to ask, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, his gaze spoke volumes, filled with questions and concerns that he couldn't bring himself to voice.