Chapter 37: Where the Scars Still Speak

Poornima slipped into the room quietly, closing the door behind her as if even the walls shouldn’t witness her fear.

She turned her back to him.

Not because she didn’t trust Veeresh—
but because some parts of her past still burned when looked at.

The scars on her back weren’t just marks on skin.
They were memories etched into flesh—moments where love had turned into cruelty, where silence had been forced, where pain had been justified in the name of marriage.

Veeresh stood there, watching her reflection in the mirror.

Why is she hiding?
The thought tightened his chest.

He stepped closer.

And then he saw them.

The scars.

Uneven.
Faded but undeniable.
Some thin, some angry—each one telling a story she never spoke aloud.

His breath hitched.

Without thinking, he reached out, his fingers barely brushing her skin—gentle, reverent, like touching something sacred and broken.

“Veer… please,” she whispered sharply, her body stiffening.
“Don’t touch me there.”

Her voice cracked.

“Please… remember the past…”

And then—

Her knees buckled.

The weight of years she had carried alone finally crushed her strength.

Veeresh caught her just in time.

“Poornima!” His voice shook as he lifted her effortlessly, laying her on the bed, panic racing through him. Her face was pale, lashes trembling, breath uneven.

He called the doctor immediately—hands unsteady, heart hammering.

The doctor examined her calmly, then looked at Veeresh with quiet understanding.

“She’s physically fine,” he said gently.
“But trauma doesn’t disappear just because time passes. Something triggered her memories. The mind sometimes collapses before the body can protect itself.”

Veeresh swallowed hard.

“Is there… anything for the scars?” he asked, his voice low, almost pleading.

The doctor nodded, writing a prescription.
“For the skin—and for reassurance. Healing isn’t only medicine. It’s safety.”

The moment the doctor left, Veeresh didn’t wait.

He brought the ointment himself.
Sat beside her like a guardian.
Applied it slowly, carefully, his touch feather-light—as if afraid she might break again.

Not once did he rush.

Not once did he look away.

He leaned down and kissed her cheek softly, his lips lingering where warmth could reach her even in sleep.

“I’m here,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion.
“I’m not going anywhere. Whatever hurt you… it ends with me.”

He pulled her gently into his chest, holding her like someone protecting a fragile truth.

I am there with you forever, he promised silently.
For every scar you hide. For every night you still wake afraid. For every memory that thinks it owns you.

Her breathing slowly evened out.

And as sleep claimed them both, Veeresh stayed awake a little longer—
not watching over her wounds—

but guarding her peace.