Bound by Vows, Broken by Fate

Bound by Vows, Broken by Fate

Chapter 18: A Night of Unspoken Words

Meher had never been more aware of his presence than she was that night.

Rivan had always been a force of nature—cold, calculated, untouchable. But now, sitting in the dimly lit bedroom, she saw something else. Something softer. Something hesitant.

And that scared her more than anything else ever had.

---

It was past midnight when she finally convinced herself to go to bed. But sleep refused to come. Her mind was too restless, thoughts circling around the moment in the dining room. The way he had held her wrist. The way he had asked her why she was still here.

The way his eyes had searched hers, as if looking for something even he didn’t understand.

She turned onto her side, exhaling slowly. Just as she was about to close her eyes, she heard it.

The door creaked open.

Her breath hitched.

Rivan.

He stood there, silhouetted against the dim light from the hallway. He was still dressed in his work clothes, though his tie was missing, and the first few buttons of his shirt were undone.

Meher swallowed hard. “What is it?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he stepped inside, shutting the door behind him.

“I can’t sleep,” he admitted finally.

She stared at him. “Why?”

A long pause. “I don’t know.”

Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words.

And then, to her utter shock, he moved closer.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, his weight making the mattress dip slightly. Meher’s heartbeat pounded in her ears.

“Do you want me to leave?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

She should have said yes.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she shifted, creating space beside her. An invitation she didn’t fully understand herself.

Rivan hesitated, then exhaled. And before she could second-guess herself, he slid into bed beside her.

Neither of them spoke. They didn’t have to.

The room was quiet, save for the sound of their breathing. Meher lay still, her entire body tense, waiting for the moment to shatter.

But then, something unexpected happened.

Rivan reached out, his fingers brushing against hers under the covers. Not grabbing. Not forcing. Just there.

A silent question. A plea for something he didn’t know how to ask for.

Meher’s throat tightened. Slowly, cautiously, she turned her hand over, letting their fingers intertwine.

She felt his breath hitch.

For the first time since their marriage, he didn’t push. He didn’t demand.

He just held her hand.

And in that moment, she knew—this wasn’t hate anymore.

This was something else entirely.

---

The next morning, Meher woke up to warmth.

It took her a moment to realize why.

Rivan was still there.

But more than that—he was holding her.

Sometime during the night, he had shifted closer. One arm draped around her waist, his body curled slightly against hers. His breathing was steady, his grip firm but not suffocating.

Meher didn’t move. She didn’t want to.

Because for the first time since this marriage began, she didn’t feel trapped.

She felt… safe.

Her eyes fluttered closed again, a small, fragile smile playing on her lips.

Maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t a mistake after all.