Chapter 28: Two Silences

Poornima

Days blurred into each other.

Morning light came through the window, touching her face gently—mocking, almost. Poornima sat there for hours, knees drawn up, watching the city move as if it belonged to another world. Phones rang outside. Lives continued. Hers felt paused.

Her parents didn’t call.

She didn’t call them either.

Not because she didn’t want to—
but because every time she lifted the phone, Veeresh’s words echoed louder than her courage.

You’re not leaving.
What I said is final.

She told herself they must be angry. Hurt. Ashamed. Maybe they thought she had chosen this. Maybe they believed she had abandoned them.

That thought broke her a little more every day.

She cried silently now. No sobs. No drama. Just tears slipping down as she stared out of the window, feeling like a guest in her own life. Love had once felt warm with him. Now it felt like being held underwater—needing him to breathe, yet suffocating because of him.

And still…
when he came home, a part of her waited.

That was the most painful truth.

Veeresh

Veeresh saw everything.

He noticed how she stopped humming while cooking.
How she flinched when her phone lit up—even when it wasn’t her parents.
How she sat by the window for hours, like she was waiting for something that would never come.

He knew she was breaking.

And he did nothing.

Not because he didn’t care—
but because if he acknowledged her pain, he would have to face his own.

Her sadness reminded him of everything he had destroyed. Her silence was louder than her screams ever were. Consoling her meant admitting he had gone too far. And Veeresh Raisinghania had never survived by admitting weakness.

Yet—he needed her.

Her presence anchored him. When she was near, his demons quieted. When she slept beside him, his chest didn’t feel like it would split open. He didn’t touch her because he was afraid—afraid that if he reached out, she would crumble completely… or worse, pull away forever.

He chose control over comfort.
Distance over repair.

And in doing so, he watched the woman he loved fade—
while telling himself it was necessary.

They lived in the same penthouse.
Shared the same nights.
Breathed the same air.

Yet they were alone—
each trapped inside a silence the other had created.

Love still existed between them.

But it was bruised.
Unspoken.
And dangerously close to becoming something neither of them could undo.