Chapter 28: When Words Break—and Love Bleeds Through

Veeresh came back to the room quietly.

Poornima was sitting on the bed, her eyes red, her face wet with tears. She stood the moment she saw him.

“How could you say that?” she asked, her voice trembling.
“Did I ever make you feel like that?”

Veeresh stayed silent.

That hurt more.

She stepped closer and held his arm, her grip tight—not angry, desperate.

“Don’t hurt me with words,” she said, her voice breaking. “He did that to me too. Again and again.”

Tears streamed down freely now.

“Why?” she cried. “When I’m with you… everything feels safe. For the first time in so long, I don’t feel like I’m walking on broken glass.”

Her chest rose and fell unevenly.

Veeresh couldn’t take it anymore.

He pulled her to him suddenly—firm, urgent—and kissed her.

Not gentle.

Not hesitant.

It was a kiss filled with frustration, fear, regret, and longing all at once.

Poornima froze for a heartbeat—

Then she kissed him back.

Her hands clutched his shirt, her tears mixing into the kiss, her pain pouring out through it. This wasn’t passion alone—it was release.

Veeresh pulled back just enough and cupped her face.

“Look at me, Poornima.”

She did.

His eyes were intense, raw, honest.

“I’m sorry,” he said hoarsely. “I shouldn’t have said that. I said it because I wanted you to break that barrier… to open up to me. But I chose the worst way.”

His hand rested firmly on her waist—not claiming, grounding.

“I won’t hurt you,” he said, each word deliberate.
“And even if I ever do—if I break you, if I fail you—”

His forehead rested against hers.

“I will be the one who puts you back together. I’ll woo you. I’ll beg for your forgiveness. I’ll mend what I break.”

His voice dropped, fierce and protective.

“Nobody comes between us. I won’t allow it. Not your past. Not my temper. Not fear.”

He captured her lips again—this time slower, deeper.

Poornima kissed him back, not as a woman escaping pain, but as one choosing to trust despite it.

Her tears didn’t stop—but neither did she pull away.

In that moment, both of them understood:

Love wasn’t soft here.

It was hard-earned.
Bruised.
Fierce.

And for the first time, neither of them ran from it.