Chapter 30: The Night That Didn’t Heal

Poornima cried until her chest hurt.

She sat on the floor for a long time, waiting—listening to every sound, hoping each one was him. When the silence became unbearable, she picked up her phone with shaking hands and called again and again.

“Veer… please come back,” she whispered into the emptiness. “I’ll listen to you. I won’t cross you. Please come back for me. I love you, Veeresh. I can never hate you. You’re my everything.”

Her voice broke on the last word.

But he didn’t hear it.

Veeresh was somewhere else—drowning the noise in his head with alcohol. The image wouldn’t leave him alone: her eyes, wide with fear. Not anger. Not rebellion.

Fear.

She’s scared of me, his mind screamed.
And that means I’ve already lost her.

“I can’t lose her,” he muttered to himself. “She’s mine. I can’t—”

But even as he said it, a bitter truth followed.

I already did.

The glass shattered against the wall. He staggered out, drove back faster than he should have, fear and possession pulling him home like a leash.

When the door opened, Poornima looked up instantly.

Relief flooded her face.

“You’re back,” she breathed, rushing to him. “Are you okay? Show me your hand.”

He didn’t stop her.

She guided him to the couch, fingers gentle as she unwrapped the cloth and carefully tied a fresh bandage around his injured knuckles. Her hands trembled, but her touch was full of concern—pure, unguarded.

He watched her in silence.

She still cared.
Even after everything.

That realization hit harder than the drink.

Suddenly, he pulled her toward him and kissed her—rough at first, desperate. She froze for half a second… then kissed him back, tears slipping down her cheeks. Not because she was happy.

Because letting go felt impossible.

He lifted her easily, carrying her to the bedroom. The smell of alcohol clung to him as he lay beside her, exhaustion crashing over him all at once. His arm wrapped around her instinctively, like he was afraid she’d disappear if he loosened his hold.

He fell asleep quickly.

Poornima lay awake for a while longer, staring into the dark.

She loved him. That much was true.

But love shouldn’t hurt like this.

Eventually, fatigue pulled her under. She slept beside the man who was both her shelter and her storm—knowing that nothing had truly been fixed.

Only postponed.

And morning would come with questions neither of them was ready to answer.