Chapter - 38 Your Heartbeat
Author pov ---
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His voice was low, heavy with emotions, yet he kept going. As if those buried memories had waited too long to be set free.
"My mom..." he whispered, eyes fixed somewhere distant, "...was the most beautiful soul I've ever known, Kritika. So gentle. So soft-spoken. The kind of woman who could calm a storm just by her presence."
He looked down at his hands, voice breaking a little.
"But my dad... he never gave her the love she deserved. Half the time, he was buried in work, and the other half... he was arguing with her. Fighting. Blaming. Making her feel like she was never enough."
Tears welled in his eyes, and this time, he didn't wipe them.
"And still," he said with a bitter-sweet smile, "she never spoke ill of him. Not once. Not even when he hurt her."
He paused, a memory hitting him like a wave-too strong, too sharp.
"I still remember... I was six. They had one of their usual fights. Loud. Ugly. And then dad slammed the door and left."
He took a shaky breath, his voice dropping to a whisper, almost as if he could see that night unfolding before him again.
"I walked into her room, rubbing my eyes. I said, 'Maa, I can't sleep.' And she looked at me, her eyes swollen... but she still smiled. She pulled me into her lap, like she always did. And I... I asked her-'Maa, papa is very bad, right?'"
Kritika's eyes stung.
Ayaan's throat tightened.
"She didn't scold me... didn't say a word against him. She just kissed my head and said, 'No, beta... he's not bad. He just doesn't know how to show love.'"
A single tear slipped down his cheek.
"Then she started humming a lori" he continued softly, "the same one she used to sing every time I was scared. She stroked my hair... and kept whispering, 'Mumma is here... nothing will hurt you.'"
His lips trembled.
"That was my safe place, Kritika... her lap, her voice, her arms. No matter how broken the world felt, she made everything okay."
He looked at her, eyes brimming.
"But no one ever did that for her..." he whispered. "No one ever made her feel safe."
Kritika was looking at him with tearful eyes.
Ayaan still sitting beside Kritika, voice soft and steady, eyes gazing into a memory far away...
"One day, everyone was sitting in the living room-Dad, chachu, dadi, dadu and me. I still remember my heart pounding so loud I could hear it in my ears. But I had to speak up. I couldn't hold it in any longer.
I said, 'I'm not interested in business. I don't want to take over Dad's empire. I want to become a doctor.'
Dad got angry. I was his only son, after all. If not me, then who would carry forward the legacy?
But then Dadi-spoke up. She said, 'He'll do what he wants to do. What makes him happy.'
Then Chachu, said to dad 'It's okay. My son Sameer will help you. He'll handle things.'
Sameer-my older cousin-he moved in with us shortly after. And just like that, without a word of complaint, he started managing everything. He took over Dad's work, stood by him, gave up so much... for me.
"He was doing everything that was supposed to be my responsibility, my duty... the things I should have been doing.
But I couldn't do it. I couldn't stay close to Dad. I didn't want anything to do with him. I couldn't even look at him properly... not after everything.
Time passed. Bhaiya got married. And Bhabhi came into our lives.
And that... changed something in the house.
For the first time in years, it felt like there was a woman's warmth again. A mother's warmth. Don't get me wrong-Dadi is everything to me. She raised me. She saved me. But when Bhabhi came, it was... different.
She became my comfort. My best friend in the house. And also act like my mom sometimes, I didn't talk much, not even to her, but somehow... she always understood. She helped me through medical college, made sure I ate, noticed my good and bad habits, scolded me when needed... and comforted me when I didn't even realize I needed it.
She and Bhaiya gave me love without ever asking anything in return. And then...
Then came Krish."
Ayaan's eyes softened, a faint smile touching his lips through the sadness.
"He's their son-my nephew. But to me... he's like my heart.
When Krish came into our lives, it felt like happiness had returned. Our house, once silent and cold, started filling with laughter again. We had functions, birthdays, late-night giggles echoing through the halls.
He's only four now-mischievous, wild, absolutely uncontrollable. But I love him so much it scares me sometimes. I see my childhood in him... the childhood I lost. And through him, it feels like I've found a piece of myself again."
Ayaan glanced at Kritika, his eyes misty but his voice firm now-every word soaked in emotion.
"This-this is my world, Kritika. My people. My story. It's messy, and painful... but it's mine."
Then Ayaan didn't say anything for sometime..
"My whole family is here... I have everything, Kritika," he whispered, his voice barely holding itself together. "A big house, a successful career, people who care... and even you now."
He looked up at her, eyes glassy, lips trembling like a little boy who had been strong for far too long.
"But still," he choked out, "I miss her. I miss my mom every single day. So much that some days... breathing hurts."
He clutched his chest as if trying to hold back a lifetime of pain, but the dam had already broken. His body shook as he cried harder, the kind of cry that came from deep, buried places - not loud, but raw and helpless.
Kritika couldn't take it anymore. She threw her arms around him and pulled him close.
He didn't hesitate. He collapsed into her, burying his face in her shoulder like a broken child, sobbing without shame. His fingers gripped the back of her top tightly, as if afraid she might disappear too.
Kritika's own eyes were streaming. Her hand gently caressed his hair as she whispered over and over, "I'm here, Ayaan... I'm right here."
She held him like she was trying to hold every shattered piece of him together - the little boy who lost his mother, the teenager blamed for it, and the man who still carried the weight of a love he never got to keep.
It was the first time Ayaan allowed someone to see the wounds he had buried.
And for once... he wasn't alone in his pain.
🦋🦋🦋🦋
Tears still wet on his lashes, Ayaan slowly drifted off to sleep - his head resting softly in Kritika's arms, his breath shaky but slowly calming, his fingers still gently curled around her wrist like a child afraid of losing his grip.
Kritika sat still, her back resting against the headboard, arms wrapped protectively around him. She looked down at his sleeping face... and her heart clenched.
He looked so peaceful now. So vulnerable. So... innocent.
His long lashes fluttered faintly, his lips slightly parted, and a quiet sigh escaped his chest - like a soul finally finding a moment's rest after years of silent screaming.He looked like a lost little boy... one who had waited too long for someone to simply hold him and say, "You're allowed to cry."
She gently brushed a strand of hair off his forehead, her fingertips trembling.
"God," she whispered inside her head, "how much have you endured alone, Ayaan?"
He had always appeared so calm. So controlled. So untouchable.
But under that composed exterior was a heart that had been wounded again and again - by loss, by blame, by silence.
And yet... he was still here.
Kind. Strong. Gentle.
"You deserved a childhood full of love. A mother's warmth. A father's pride. Not this-this constant battle to prove yourself worthy of being loved."
Her eyes burned as she continued looking at him, sleeping so innocently in her arms, unaware of how deeply he had just carved himself into her soul.
She leaned down slightly and whispered into the silence, as if promising him and herself both:
"You've already endured too much, Ayaan. In this life, you won't have to anymore. Not while I'm here. I swear I won't ever do anything that makes you feel unloved or alone again. I don't know what lies ahead... but whatever it is, you won't be facing it alone."
She hugged him tighter.
And in that quiet night, beneath the weight of heartbreak, two hearts slowly began to heal - one through sleep, the other through silent promises made with trembling hands and tearful eyes.
Kritika's POV🦋
I felt it before I heard it-his body jolting beside me, his breath ragged, trembling.
"No... no, I didn't... I didn't kill her-please, I didn't..."
My eyes snapped open.
"Ayaan?" I whispered, sitting up quickly. His face was drenched in sweat, hands shaking, eyes wild with panic.
My heart broke in one sharp crack.
" I didn't want her to die..." he kept repeating, like a child stuck in a memory too cruel to forget.
Without thinking, I pulled him into my arms. "Ayaan. Shhh... I'm here. It's okay. You're safe."
But he wasn't hearing me.
He was lost. Somewhere far. Somewhere dark.
I cupped his face, forced him to look at me. His eyes-God, his eyes-were full of guilt that no one should carry.
"You didn't kill her," I said, firmer now, fighting my own tears. "You were just a child, Ayaan. A scared, innocent child."
He looked at me like he didn't believe it. Like he'd never heard it before.
And maybe... he hadn't.
I held him tighter. "You don't have to fight this alone anymore. I'm right here."
And that night, at 3AM, while the world slept...
I held a broken boy who never got the chance to grieve.
And promised him I'd never let him drown again.
After a few minutes, his trembling started to slow... his breaths still uneven, but no longer gasping.
He was calming down. Slowly. Gently.
But I couldn't let go. Not even for a second.
My arms stayed wrapped around him like a shield, like if I just held tight enough, maybe I could pull him out of whatever darkness he was drowning in.
His head rested against my shoulder now, his fingers clutching the fabric of my t-shirt like a lifeline.
I had never seen him like this before.
Not Ayaan Malhotra.
Tonight, he was just... human. Broken. Hurting.
And it shattered something inside me.
I kept whispering, "You're okay... I'm right here," even when my own voice was trembling.
Because if I stopped, I was afraid the silence might break him again.
And I wasn't going to let that happen.
Not tonight. Not ever.
After a long pause, he finally loosened his grip on my t-shirt... just a little.
His body still felt tense, like it was fighting sleep, fighting peace.
I slowly guided him back down, gently pulling the blanket over us.
His eyes were half-closed now, dazed, red from crying.
"Don't go," he whispered, barely audible.
My heart clenched.
"I'm not going anywhere," I murmured, brushing his hair back from his forehead. And kissed it "Just sleep, Ayaan... I am here."
He didn't reply. He didn't need to.
He shifted closer, resting his head lightly against my chest, and this time... he let himself fall.
Fall into sleep.
Fall into silence.
Fall into me.
And I held him... like he once held all his pain. Quietly. Completely. Without letting go.
🦋🦋🦋🦋
I had woken up a little while ago or just say I didn't sleep the whole night thinking about him, but I didn't want to disturb him..
He was still asleep, his face soft in the morning light, eyes closed like he finally found peace.
Carefully, I reached out and began to gently stroke his hair, running my fingers through the soft strands.
There was something so fragile in that moment-Ayaan, who was always so strong, now completely vulnerable in my arms.
I whispered softly, barely above a breath, "I'm here, Ayaan... always."
Slowly, his eyes fluttered open, meeting mine.
For a moment, he just stared-still half in sleep, half in some distant place.
Then a small, tired smile curved his lips.
His fingers weakly reached up and tangled in my hair.
"You stayed," he whispered, voice hoarse but full of something softer than I'd ever heard before.
"I'm not going anywhere," I replied, pressing my forehead gently against his.
Ayaan's voice was quiet but firm as he pulled away slightly.
"I should go. Class must have started by now."
I shook my head, reaching out to hold his hand gently.
"No, not today. You need to rest. Just for one day."
He sighed, running a hand through his hair, frustration flickering in his eyes.
"This happens to me almost everyday, Kritika. Whenever i think about her so much, It's nothing big. I can't keep making excuses and stop my world just because I feel off. I have to go."
I looked at him, my voice soft but insistent.
"Please... just today. For me."
He held my gaze a little longer, searching, before his lips curved into a tired but warm smile. Slowly, he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss on my forehead.
"Okay... just for you."
🦋🦋🦋
We were in the bed cuddling, His fingers intertwined with mine, squeezing gently as if anchoring himself to this moment - to me. I could feel the steady beat of his heart against my chest, a rhythm I wanted to memorize forever.
"Sometimes," he whispered, "I'm scared. Scared that all this-us, happiness-it's just temporary. That I'll wake up and it'll be gone."
I looked up, eyes locked with his, searching for the pain behind those words.
"But I don't want to think like that," he added, voice breaking just a little. "Because when I'm with you... I feel like maybe, just maybe, I can be okay."
I cupped his face softly, my thumb brushing away a stray tear he didn't bother to hide.
"Ayaan, you don't have to be afraid. I'm not going anywhere. We'll face everything together."
He pulled me closer, burying his face in the crook of my neck.
"In your arms, I find the strength to keep going," he murmured, and I knew that for both of us, this moment was more than comfort - it was a promise.
I tightened my hold, whispering back, "Always. No matter what.
His warmth against me felt like the only thing that mattered in that quiet room. Slowly, I lifted my hand to cup his cheek, tracing the line of his jaw with trembling fingers. His eyes met mine, soft and uncertain, and I leaned in just a little, letting my lips brush gently against his.
His breath hitched, and I took that as encouragement.
I deepened the kiss, my lips moving slowly at first-soft, exploring, tentative. I could feel the tension in him start to melt away, his hands finding their way to my waist, pulling me closer.
The world outside faded, leaving just the two of us wrapped in this fragile moment.
Then, as if something inside me ignited, I shifted my weight and pressed myself firmly against him. My hands tangled in his hair, pulling his face closer as the kiss grew hungrier, more urgent.
His mouth parted beneath mine, and I slipped my tongue inside, exploring, tasting, claiming.
He groaned low and deep, his fingers digging into my back, holding me like he never wanted to let go.
The heat between us flared, a storm building with every heartbeat.
I broke the kiss just for a breath, my forehead resting against his.
"Tell me what you want," I whispered, voice thick with need.
His eyes darkened, fierce and raw.
"You," he breathed.
And he kissed me again.
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they just kissed ok?
Spicy chapter will come soon 👽
Also ayaan has so many more secrets which will unfold soon step by step.
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