Chapter 45

Waiting for His Heart

When the house grew quiet again, sat alone in her room, her fingers absentmindedly resting on her belly.

She was happy.

Truly happy.

But beneath that happiness, a small fear lived.

Will he ever accept me as his wife?

Not as a responsibility.
Not as a promise to a dying friend.
Not as a mother for his daughter.

But as his woman.

She remembered his words by the river — how his ex-wife betrayed him with his own business partner, how he heard their voices, how he walked away without crying. That wound was not small. It was carved deep into his pride, his trust, his masculinity.

And last night… he cried.

Not as an industrialist.
Not as a powerful man.

But as a broken boy who never healed.

Her heart tightened at the memory.

Would a man that shattered ever trust fully again?

Would he ever look at her without fear of betrayal?

She closed her eyes.

“No rushing,” she whispered to herself.

Love forced becomes fear.
Love grown slowly becomes faith.

Yes, the process would hurt. Yes, there would be days he would withdraw. Days he would doubt. Days he would push her away.

But she understood something clearly — he was not cruel.

He was scared.

And scared people need patience, not pressure.

“I will wait,” she thought firmly. “Until he becomes whole again. Until he trusts me with every piece of him.”

She placed her palm over her heart.

Her love for him was no longer confusion.

It was choice.

And she chose to stay.

One line:
Kabhi kabhi pyaar jeetne ke liye nahi… intezaar karne ke liye hota hai.