?THE TANGELD THREADS?

59 | ???????

I wanted to pull Shivaansh bhai's leg, to see that rare smile break through his face. I could almost taste Yuvika bhabhi's kheer, sweet and comforting, the way it always made me feel like everything would be okay.

And Avyaana... I wanted to tease her, calling her "bhabhi" just to see that embarrassed look on her face, that half-annoyed, half-amused glint in her eyes. I wanted to be back with all of them, surrounded by their love and chaos.

The memories flooded me, each one bringing with it a fresh wave of longing and pain. It felt like the farther we ran, the more I realized what we'd left behind. I had taken all of it for granted-every moment, every small, precious thing.

"I miss them, Meher," I choked out, my voice breaking.

"I just want to go back."
Meher stayed quiet, her own eyes glistening with unshed tears, and then, suddenly, she broke. A sob escaped her lips, her body shaking with the force of it. Without thinking, I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close, trying-failing-not to cry myself.

"I'm so sorry, sorry Rivaan," she managed between her sobs, her words broken and jagged like she was choking on them. I rubbed her back, my hand moving in slow circles, trying to comfort her in the only way I knew how.

"It's all because of me," she whimpered, her voice cracking.

"All because of me. We wouldn't be stuck here if-if I hadn't-"

I couldn't take it. I pressed my hand gently against her soft, trembling lips, silencing her before she could spiral any further.

"Shhh, baby," I whispered, my voice softer now, filled with more tenderness than I thought I had left.

"It's not your fault. Don't say that."

She shook her head, tears spilling freely now, soaking my shoulder as I held her tighter. I could feel her guilt, her fear, wrapped around her like a suffocating weight. And I hated that she was carrying it alone.

"Listen to me," I murmured into her hair, the strands damp against my cheek.

"We're in this together, okay? We'll figure it out. But it's not your fault, Meher. It's not."

Her sobs slowed, but I could still feel her heart pounding against my chest. My own heart ached seeing her like this, so fragile, so broken. She'd always been my rock, the strong one. But here she was, unraveling, and there was nothing I could do except hold her close and promise her things I wasn't sure I could deliver.

"We'll be okay," I lied, or maybe I wasn't lying-maybe I was clinging to the hope that saying it out loud would make it true.

"We'll find a way. But you can't blame yourself, Meher"Her fingers curled into my shirt, gripping it as if she was afraid to let go, as if I was the last anchor holding her to the ground. And in that moment, I realized I needed her just as much as she needed me.

That night, we set up camp by the ocean, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore like a lullaby that refused to soothe. The air was cool, a soft breeze brushing against our skin, but neither of us seemed to care about the cold. For the first time, the fear and uncertainty faded into the background as we sought comfort in each other.

As the night deepened, Meher clung to me, her body curled into mine like she was afraid I'd disappear if she let go. I held her just as tightly, feeling the steady rise and fall of her breath, our heartbeats almost in sync. Her head rested on my chest, her warmth seeping into me, and for the first time in days, I didn't feel completely lost.

I realized I needed her closeness just as much as her. Maybe even more.

I ran my fingers slowly through her hair, smoothing it back from her face, the soft strands slipping between my fingers. She shifted slightly, pressing herself closer, and I could feel the faintest tremor still running through her body, like she was afraid to let go of this moment.