Love Across Time

Eighty Eight

Happy Navratri!!!

-𝓑𝓮𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓦𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓸𝓯 𝓐𝓷𝓰𝓾𝓲𝓼𝓱-

Arjun slumped against the weathered pillar, his head bowed in defeat. "I don't think she can bear to be under the same roof as me, Madhav," he rasped, his voice thick with a sorrow that echoed in the vast hall. "Dwarka, with you... that's where she should go. Aashvi is the only one who can lift her spirit now." Each word felt like a shard of broken glass tearing through his throat. He understood with a sickening clarity that Aanya craved solace, a comfort he was incapable of offering in this state of utter defeat.

The solace of a familiar face, of love untainted by the bitter sting of betrayal, a love that wouldn't flinch at the sight of his failures, wouldn't recoil from the weight of his mistakes. Perhaps, in the warmth of Aashvi's embrace, amidst the familiar sounds of Dwarka, Aanya might find the strength to mend the shattered pieces of her heart, pieces he, in his broken state, could only clumsily attempt to gather. But the thought of sending her away felt like tearing away a part of himself, a painful admission that he was not the hero she deserved, not the one who could shield her from the storm he himself had helped unleash.

But a counterpoint resonated within him, a dull ache that mirrored the throbbing pain in his own soul. Sending her away felt like a fresh betrayal, a cowardly retreat from the battlefield of their fractured love. He was her husband, soon to be the father of the child that stirred within her, a fragile promise caught in the crossfire. A time would come, an undeniable truth whispered in the desolate chambers of his heart,  when she would need him, his strength, his unwavering support. Could he, in good conscience, abandon her now, when the ground beneath her very existence had crumbled to dust?

Kanha's voice, usually a soothing balm, cut through the fog of despair. "A grave error you have committed, Partha," he said, his tone solemn but laced with an undercurrent of steel. "Redemption, not retreat, is what's called for now. You are her husband, and soon, the father of the child she carries within her. To turn away is to deepen the wounds, not heal them.  Face your mistake. Face her. Earn back the trust you have so carelessly shattered."

Arjun flinched, a muscle in his jaw clenching involuntarily. The past few days replaying in his mind like a relentless torment. "I was supposed to be her shield, Madhav," he rasped, the title a hollow echo in the cavernous hall. "But I failed her. She built her world around the edifice of my love, and I shattered it with the deafening silence of my inaction." A bitter laugh escaped his lips, a sound that scraped against the raw nerve of his despair.

"Aashvi," he continued, his voice low and heavy, "she raised our daughter alone, Madhav. Found strength in the embers of hope that flickered despite the storm. Aanya had that same hope, a vibrant flame that danced in her eyes. Until it was cruelly extinguished. And I," he choked, the word a shard of broken glass in his throat, "I extinguished it."

His voice hitched, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "And now, Madhav? Now, all she sees in me are the ghosts of broken promises, a love so fragile it crumbled to dust in the face of injustice." He lifted his head, his gaze filled with a raw, desperate plea. "Wouldn't pulling her in closer only deepen that festering wound of resentment? Wouldn't it be a constant reminder of the love she lost, the home she can no longer call her solace? Or," he continued, his voice gaining a tremor of desperate hope, "is there a chance, even a sliver of one, that facing this storm together, weathering the pain, might reignite a spark of what we once had?" The question hung in the air, a fragile butterfly caught in the downdraft of his despair, yearning for a breath of hope.

Kanha studied Arjun with an intensity that seemed to pierce through the facade of the Pandava prince. The weight of his gaze held both empathy and a quiet rebuke. "There is always a chance, Partha," he finally said, his voice a steady current amidst the chaos of emotions swirling around them. "But that chance withers in the stagnant air of regret. A seed of love, even one buried deep beneath the frost of betrayal, can still sprout anew, given the right conditions."