TARGET: 200 VOTES🌟
early update cuz you guys exceeded the votes target in the previous chapter!😭tysm!!
"Neend nhi aa rhi?" Aryan asked when I turned from my sleeping position for the hundredth time and the bed made a sound of protest under my shifting weight.
(Not able to sleep?)
"Nhi..."
(No.)
Turning to lay on his side to face me, he reached out and ran a finger down my cheek, whispering softly, "Kyu?"
(Why?)
"I just keep thinking about all that happened today. About it means for our relationship ahead..."
Bringing my hand to his lips, he kissed my knuckles, murmuring, "And what was the conclusion you came to, after so many hours of overthinking?"
I bit the corner of my lip, contemplating. But the intensity of his gaze on me was messing with my nerves. The way his eyes–so tender and understanding–watched me as if he could peek into my mind, made it difficult for me to think.
"I think that it's frustratingly and utterly messy. The way we have blurred the boundaries tonight will make our lives and existence messy."
"And why do you think that?" He coaxed. He knew the answer to that question, I could see it on his face, yet he wanted me to speak it out loud.
Damn him.
"Because I won't..." I paused, unable to get the words out.
Aryan's eyes remained unblinking. Patient. He asked, insisting, "Because you won't, what?"
"Because I won't be able to..." I hesitated before continuing, "I can't return your feelings."
"You said that you can't, not that you won't..." He trailed.
I sighed longingly, closing my eyes. Damn him for being the most annoyingly observant person in the entire universe.
"Can I ask you something?"
Silence enveloped the dark room, as my eyes fluttered open at his question. The warmth of his fingers against my icy cheek sent a quiver down my neck, making goosebumps rise on my sensitive skin.
I hummed in approval, even though I knew that I wasn't ready to answer what he wanted to ask. Those mesmerizing brown eyes searched mine. Exploring and Imploring.
"What made you hate love?"
I inhaled sharply at the directness in his tone.
Chuckling nervously, I said, "That's a little dramatic and all, and-"
"Why do you think that you always have to keep that guard up around your heart, Ria?"
Guess we aren't sugar-coating our words.
When I averted my gaze, he held my chin and made me look at him again.
"That's...I don't know, Aryan. I just never thought that someone, my arranged husband, of all people, would...be, you know...would cater such feelings towards me. That someone would want a future with someone like me."
I didn't even know if my words made any sense right now. They were a jumbled mess as I let them out.
Aryan brushed my hair behind my ear, scolding, "It would have been more surprising if I didn't want my future to be with someone like you. You are perfect for me, Jaan. How can you not see that?"
"But I am clingy, I am stubborn, I am rude and selfish and dominant and I have an ego as big as the size of Jupiter, and I-I cry at the smallest of things and-"
He leaned forward to press his lips to mine, silencing me.
I breathed hard from my outburst, when I heard him murmur against my mouth, "And you are perfect. Perfect for me."
With my eyes shut, I shook my head. "You don't understand."
"Then explain it to me."
I exhaled, aggravated, and asked, "What makes you think that this...whatever this is, would work between us?"
"It's you who is in charge, here, Ria. Not me. If you say that you don't feel comfortable enough to continue this marriage, then I will let go. But, If you want to explore being together, with me by your side, I would be the happiest man alive. It's your choice that matters the most to me. My love for you, the way I care for you, nothing would diminish that. Ever. With whatever choice you make,"
His arm curled around my waist and he pulled me closer, whispering tenderly, "And if you choose to have me by your side, for life, for an eternity, we will make it work, Ria. I know, that we can make it work."
His weighted words followed a prolonged pause as I tried to process all that he had said.
Aryan got up to sit straight against the pillow, urging, "Come here."
He clasped my hand, pulling me up to straddle his bare torso. His palm cupped my face, as I settled on top of him comfortably. His touch then traveled to my hair, his fingers tangling through the tumbling tresses.
He demanded, his index finger tapping the side of my forehead, "Now, tell me, what has exactly been going on in this beautiful mind of yours? And, no talking in circles this time, alright?"
My gaze flickered toward the digital clock on the nightstand beside our bed. It showed the time to be 3:15 a.m.
When I placed my hand on top of his chest, the rhythmic pulse of his heart soothed my inhibitions, and the patience in his unblinking charcoal eyes eased my nervousness.
I inhaled deeply, muttering, "What makes you think that this would work between us when it doesn't work for so many other couples?" When he didn't reply and just furrowed his eyebrows, waiting for me to continue, I blurted, "When it didn't work for my mom and dad?"
Stress lines crinkled his forehead, as he gently grasped my face in his hands. His thumbs wiped the silent trail of tears that I didn't even realize were running down my cheeks.
How embarrassing.
My breath hitched, seeming to be riddled. He circled his arms around my hiccuping body, consoling and coaxing, "Breath, baby. Relax. It's okay."
His palm ran up and down my back, delivering solace and assurance. When my tears hushed and my heartbeat stabilized a little, after what felt like an eternity, he unwrapped his arms.
I didn't know how, I didn't know why, but I always ended up being vulnerable in front of him. I felt helpless. Defenseless. Yet, it felt so liberating.
I was never the kind of person who craved for comfort nourished by physical touches or cried recklessly in front of others. But having him, with me, here, I lived in a settled sense of security.
Like he was my home. My peace. My safe place.
I loved the feeling of his arms around me. I loved how he always knew what to say. I loved the way he cared for me. I loved this feeling of...being loved.
After a prolonged moment of stillness, I apologized for watering like a human fountain on his chest, "I am sorry."
"Don't you dare apologize for something like this," He chided, gently. "Now, do you want to continue with this conversation or-"
I interrupted him, saying hurriedly, "Let's continue. Otherwise, I will keep overthinking about it."
"Okay. So, let me summarise." I rolled my eyes at his formal tone. It sounded like he was in a business meeting. "The marriage of your mom and dad is in perils. And you think that ours would follow the same suit? Is that it?"
I nodded, my gaze trained on his chin, not meeting his eyes.
"And why do you think that?"
"They were college sweethearts. They were together for eight years before they got married. And even then, they were...are miserable together. Our relationship doesn't even stand a chance of sustaining. We don't know anything at all about eachother."
"We have all our life ahead of us to know eachother. And how can you even consider that they are miserable? Every relationship is different..."
The tip of my finger traced a mindless pattern above his heart, as I whispered, "I grew up seeing them. They were the ideal couple. The kind of relationship I aspired to be in when I grew up. So happy. We were a picture-perfect family before..." My voice trailed off, as fresh tears brimmed my eyes.
Aryan gripped my hand, stilling it on his chest while his other hand massaged the expanse of my thigh. I breathed in deeply, before continuing, "Before a financial catastrophe struck my dad's business. Everything came crumbling down. Overnight, my dad's company was on the verge of bankruptcy. We sold our house. None of my uncles were there for my dad when we were struggling. Dad was diagnosed with clinical depression at that time. Finances were tight. With Vivaan's and Dad's therapy sessions and medical bills, everything was a mess. But we were still surviving somehow. My mom was the thread holding everything together. We were okay. But then, she..."
My wavering eyes met his earnest ones that were waiting for me to continue. "She asked for permission from Dad about starting to work. She had got a job offer from the town's orphanage. She...she has always loved kids. And I-I can't begin to describe how she has the biggest, the softest, the kindest of hearts. Her salary would have helped with finances too. She was thinking about herself after years of long struggle by my dad's side. But you know what my dad told her?"
Aryan's gaze on me was unblinking as he said, "He refused to give her permission?"
I nodded. "Till then, Dad had always been my hero. Someone who could never do anything wrong... But then, that day, I saw something in my house that I had never even thought of in my worst dreams. I saw them fighting for the first time. It was a big fight, there was-" I couldn't let the rest of the sentence out as I choked on my words. It felt like I was eleven again, standing in my childhood home's livingroom as I tried to carry my baby brother out of the scene.
Aryan's eyes flashed with fury as he asked, "Was there any sort of physical assault involved?"
I shook my head, saying, "There was no physical assault involved. My dad cares too much about us to ever strike us in any way. But sometimes, emotional assault exceeds the damage of physical assault,"
"I saw my mom losing hope for the first time ever. She had always been so so strong. Weathered all the difficulties without a single complaint. But that day...I could see the realization in her eyes. The realization that the man she loved was never going to treat her like she was an equal. She would always be a subordinate. A follower. An inferior. A dependent who would have to seek his permission for everything she wanted to do. The kind of pain I saw in her tears that day...it will...it will haunt me forever. I will never be able to forget that."
Aryan engulfed my sobbing frame in a hug, cooing as the wide span of his hand rubbed my back in round comforting circles, "Shusssh...you are okay. It's fine. You are fine."
After a few beats of quietude, I added, my voice hoarse from crying, "That's when I started noticing the gap in my parent's relationship. How destructive love was. How lacking in trust it was. How my dad had always dictated what my mom wore. If her blouse's neck was too deep or if her Kameez was above the knees. He always kept an eye on who she talked to. Where she went. Every single fucking aspect of her life."
My words were muffled as I said against his skin, chuckling through my tears, "And the most ironic thing? He gave me–his daughter–all the freedom and independence in the world. He never ever stopped me for anything. But sadly, he couldn't do the same for the supposed 'love of his life'–my mom."
My eyes were lidded heavy and it felt like a chore to keep them open, so I shut them close and rested my head on his chest, listening to the faint, steady thrum of his heart. The cadence of his heart was slowly becoming my most favorite sound in the world.
His chest vibrated with the sound of his voice with his hands running down my arms, as he started, "That's what you think then? That I will clip your wings and make you follow my orders like a...damn Hitler or something?"
His words carried an emotion so strange, that I had to force my eyes open to look up at him. I gasped, seeing unshed tears lining his beautiful eyes.
As he cupped my face, the tears disappeared as quickly as they had appeared but still, the sheen of moisture and the sorrow in his eyes were too apparent to go unnoticed.
I couldn't bear the sight of him in pain. A pain that I had caused. It made my heart hurt.
Pleading, I mumbled, "Please don't take it personally. The insecurities and issues that those incidents have grown inside of me, it's my problem. I need to work on them, please don't take it on yourself. Please don't feel sad."
"I am not feeling sad, Ria. I am just hurting at the thought of the little girl, who was made to believe that she should never trust a man with her heart. That if she puts her trust in a man, he is bound to break it, instead of cherishing it because it's the most precious thing he will ever gain," His eyes never left mine, as he added, "I feel hurt for the little girl who was made to believe that the person she looked up to the most–her female idol–her mom's ambitions were, in any way inferior to her dad's and that her future relationship would also be as tainted as theirs,"
"And I feel hurt for the little girl who never had a chance to believe in love. A chance to know that...love doesn't mean giving up your individualism and self-identity to please the other person. What love means is, growing together. Being together, but still not being dependent on eachother," He said firmly yet tenderly, stroking my cheek with his thumb, "When I told you that I loved you, I didn't expect anything in return. I didn't expect your compliance, your approval, or your reciprocation. It was just me telling you that I have reserved a special place for you in my heart, Ria...That's what love is."
I considered his words and emotions, overwhelmed with the amount of warmth and ardor he had poured into his simple yet complex affirmations. Placing my hand on his cheek, I said, locking my gaze with his, "I can't promise you love, Aryan. Because love also means being vulnerable. I can't put myself in such a position," I pecked his lips softly, before continuing, "But I want to be by your side. I choose to be by your side. I want to be the one to make you as happy as you make me feel. I promise to care for you. I will try my best to overcome my issues and reserve a special place for you in my heart too. But I can't promise."
His lips tilted in the smile that always managed to take my breath away. It was the kind of smile that was reserved for only me.
"The fact that you are willing to try means the world to me, Jaan," He whispered. Our hands intertwined as his lips descended on mine.
This time our kiss was filled with tenderness. A shared agreement. It spoke volumes, a silent promise of understanding, trust, and a union that went beyond words. A gentle warmth radiated from the connection, like the sun breaking through clouds after a storm.
When we broke the kiss, our mingled gaze held the promise of a new chapter. And a faint smile played on our lips–a silent acknowledgment of the emotional bridge we had crossed.
***
A/N: I don't know whether or not I was able to express the emotions in this chapter correctly. There were a lot of monologue dialogues, and executing them is tough, but yes, I have tried my best. So, I hope you liked it!
Happy Mahashivratri to everyone! Publishing this chapter early cuz I have to go for the Shiv Baarat!!🥁🥁I hope you enjoy your day too!
Update schedule from next week: Friday
Will update early, if the book completes 70k+ reads(which is near to impossible lol)
Thank you for reading!
Love you all!!❤️
TARGET: 200 VOTES🌟
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