Narayan stood frozen in the doorway. He couldn't move.

Her once luminous skin, glowing like the moon itself, was now pale and lifeless. Dark circles loomed beneath her eyes, deep shadows that told the story of sleepless nights and endless suffering.

She was still so beautiful to him, but it was a beauty tinged with heartbreak. And it was all his fault. 

For the first time, he felt the true weight of his actions, the irreversible damage he had done to the one being who had loved him unconditionally. He had shattered her trust, her heart, and in doing so, he had lost a part of himself as well.

Like he said her eyes were empty. No pain, no tears, no anger—just an abyss of nothingness. Those eyes, once brimming with love and light, now stared blankly ahead, unseeing and uncaring. 

Concern mounted in him.

He took a step closer, his hands trembling as they reached out toward her. "Sri..." he whispered again. "Please, say something... anything..."

Still, there was nothing. Her eyes were the same. Devoid of any emotion. Like a hollow shell.

He joined his hands and bowed his head in guilt. "I know I have wronged you beyond measure, and I know that I do not deserve your forgiveness. But I am here, Sri, because I cannot bear to live with the pain I have caused you. I am here because I love you, and I will do whatever it takes to make amends, to bring back the light in your eyes."

He forced himself to look up, hoping against hope to see some flicker of recognition, some sign that his words had reached her. Instead, he saw her lips stretch into a smile—a smile that sent a chill down his spine.

It was humorless, cold, mocking.

"Why are you apologizing?" she asked, her voice laced with a bitter edge. "You have never in all these years, so why start now?"

"Please don't be like this, Sri," he pleaded, his voice breaking. "Please, I will do anything... anything you ask."

"You will?" she repeated, her tone was flat, as if his promise held no weight. She tilted her head, studying him with a detached curiosity. "Can you make me like you? I want to be like you. It is my heart's dear wish, to just stop being. To just stop everything and vanish, just like you have."

Her words hung in the air. At least she was showing emotions.  He opened his mouth to speak, but she continued, her tone growing more frantic.

"But no... no, I will not!" she exclaimed, her voice rising as she shook her head. "I have duties and responsibilities. I cannot just vanish, I cannot just stop. Please, just leave. Why have you come? I stopped making you years ago. Why are you here? Please, go... please stop giving me hope."

"Sri... no," he whispered, shaking his head in denial. "I'm here, I'm real. I came back for you, I'm not a hallucination, I'm not an illusion."

But she only looked at him with the same empty eyes, the same mocking smile. "You say that every time," she murmured, turning away from him as if the sight of him pained her. 

This was worse. He looked at her eyes again and he could feel the resistance she was having. Trying to suppress her feelings, trying to remain strong, trying to believe that....she had lost him....

Narayan's legs gave way, and he slid down to his knees before her, his hands shaking as they reached out to her. He didn't dare look into her eyes again, the sight of her pain too much to bear. Instead, his eyes lowered to the floor, where they rested on her bare feet.

The same delicate feet that had once walked beside him through the heavens, through the worlds they had created together. 

With trembling hands, he reached up and removed his crown. He placed it gently beside her feet, bowing his head in complete submission. "I don't deserve to wear this," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Not when I have failed you so completely."

He reached out, his hands trembling as they hovered above her feet, hesitant to touch what he no longer felt worthy of.

But he needed her. 

He needed to feel the connection that had always been there, even in his darkest moments. With a soft breath, he let his hands lower, finally touching her feet with the reverence of a devotee before his goddess.

Her skin was cool beneath his fingers, and as he held her feet, a tear slipped from his eye, splashing against them. 

"I'm so sorry, my priya Lakshmi," he whispered. "I am unworthy of your forgiveness, unworthy of your love, but I beg you... let me atone for what I've done. Let me prove to you that I can be the man you once loved, the man who was devoted to you above all else."

He pressed his forehead to her feet, his tears flowing freely now. "I will not rise until I have your forgiveness," he vowed softly, his voice barely a whisper. "Even if it takes me eons, I will stay here, at your feet, until you find it in your heart to forgive me."

The silence stretched on, heavy and suffocating, but Narayan didn't move.

For a moment, her eyes flickered with a hint of something—but it was quickly buried beneath the layers of her hurt. She slowly turned away, her gaze returning to the window, where the endless ocean stretched out before her.

"Why do you torment me so?" she exclaimed at last, her voice rising in desperation. She stood abruptly, breaking the contact of his forehead at her feet. "Why do you come back to haunt me when I have finally found peace in this emptiness? Why do you come here, conjured by my mind, when I no longer wish to feel anything? I thought I had freed myself from this... from you."

She pulled her feet from his grasp.

Narayan's heart shattered all over again at her words. She didn't believe he was real. She thought him a figment of her grief. He watched her, helpless, as she stood and moved toward the door, her movements mechanical, as though her very soul had been emptied out long ago.

"Please, don't go," he whispered to himself, his voice too broken to be heard.

"Leave me alone," she said, her voice breaking. "I cannot bear this anymore. I cannot bear to see you... to feel anything. Just go!"

"No," Narayan said firmly, rising to his feet as he took a step toward her. "You need to believe now, Priye. You need to believe that I am here, that I have come back for you."

Without hesitation, Narayan reached out, his hand grabbing hers in a desperate attempt to stop her from leaving. His fingers wrapped around her wrist, gentle yet firm, and in that touch, he poured everything he had—the love, the longing, the warmth, the yearning he had carried for centuries. All of it rushed from his soul into hers, flowing through that single point of contact.

Lakshmi gasped. 

The intensity of the emotions hit her like a wave, crashing into her being and flooding every corner of her soul. Her breath caught in her throat, and her knees buckled beneath the overwhelming flood of warmth and love. She stumbled, but Narayan caught her, his arms wrapping around her, holding her steady.

She looked up at him as she took in his face—those familiar lotus eyes, oh how she had ached to have a glimpse for centuries.... His familiar curls fell haphazardly over his forehead and his strong jawline..

"Narayan?" she whispered, her voice barely audible, her body trembling. "No... no, this can't be real. It can't be. You're not... you're not real..." 

Tears filled her eyes—real tears this time.

"You are r..real?"

"I am, I promise." Narayan held her tighter, pulling her close, willing her to feel the truth in his touch.

And feel it, she did. She felt his touch, his warmth, his soul....

Shit! He was real.

He was right here, holding her like nothing had happened. Like he hadn't broken her heart into a thousand pieces.

Her body reacted before her mind could catch up. Her hands flew to his chest, palms pressing against the firm muscles beneath the cloth of his robe. And then, with a sudden surge of power she shoved him—hard.

Narayan's eyes widened in shock as her power hit him with the force of a storm. His body flew backward, crashing into the wall with a resounding thud. The impact was so strong that the entire room seemed to tremble for a moment. The wall behind him cracked and his is breath was knocked out of him, the shock clear in his wide eyes as he slid to the floor. 

Ouch. That hurt.  

Dazed but uninjured, he slowly lifted his head, his eyes searching for hers.

Anger. There was anger in her eyes. Thank the heavens. At least she was showing emotions. He would take her thousand beatings if it brought that spark and fire in her eyes again. The same fire that he had fallen in love with. And he would endure whatever she needed to unleash, however many beatings or harsh words, if it meant that he could slowly, painfully, earn back her trust and her love.

He coughed lightly, pushing himself up to a seated position, his gaze never leaving hers. "I know you're angry," he said softly. "And I understand why. I just want you to know that I'm here."

"WHY THE HELL YOU HERE?!" she shouted, her voice breaking with years of repressed anger and heartache. "GET OUT!"

"Priye please, I have come to ask for forgiveness."

"GET LOST YOU RECKLESS DECEITFUL BLUE SKINNED JACKAL!"

Narayan winced at her words. He deserved every ounce of her fury, every lashing word, but that didn't make it any easier to bear. 

"I know, I know," he said quietly, his voice thick with guilt. He rose slowly to his feet, leaning against the cracked wall for support. "I have been reckless. I have been a fool. And I am ashamed of the pain I've caused you, Sri. But I'm not leaving. Not until you've heard everything I have to say."

"Everything?" Her eyes blazed with a storm of emotions—betrayal, sorrow, rage. "There's nothing you could say that would undo the centuries of suffering you caused me!"

 "I never meant to—"

"Don't you dare say you never meant it!" she interrupted, stepping closer to him, her finger jabbing at his chest. "You chose this! You chose to destroy everything we had!"

"It wasn't a choice. But I know I hurt you by my actions and please, I beg you to forgive me for that. Please..."

Lakshmi wanted to laugh. The audacity of this man to come to her after all this time. And for what....... 

"Forgiveness, Narayan? After everything?" She took a step closer, her eyes burning into his, her breath coming in harsh gasps. "You think you can just walk in here, after all these eons of silence, and ask for forgiveness?"

"I know I have hurt you more than words can say. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I'm here now. I'm here because I can't live with what I've done to you... to us."

Perhaps he was feeling guilty, for hurting her, for breaking her heart. Should she forgive him? 

NO! She can't. Not after what she saw, not after what she had endured because of him. But what else could she do? 

She looked into his sorrow-filled eyes. Those eyes,  that had once held all, her dreams, her stars, her sun, and her moon. They were once her everything. 

I hate those eyes. I hate that face. I hate him! She wanted to say it to his face. 

She wanted to scream, to rage, to hurl him from her life with all the force of her shattered heart. She wanted to tell him she hated him, despised him for leaving her to drown in loneliness, for breaking her beyond what time could ever mend.

But the words—they clung to her throat, strangling her as if they knew the lie they carried.Because the truth was far more unbearable than the fury she had held onto like a shield.

She lowered her gaze, fighting the tears that blurred her vision, praying for the strength to let go of the love she had guarded for so long.

But the courage never came.

Because she found herself lost in his eyes, those cursed eyes she longed to despise, only to feel the familiar ache rising within her. His eyes—they were still the home of her heart, the shelter for her soul.

And in that quiet, fragile moment, she realized the terrible, beautiful truth.

She was still lost in him, still bound to him, still anchored to the very soul that had abandoned her.

The truth—the cruelest of all—was that her heart, though battered, still beat for him.

She still loved him.

She always had.

Who was she trying to fool?  Of course, she still loved him. Oh god! But why!?  Why did she still love him?

Yes, she had told herself she hated him—had to hate him—but here he was, standing before her, and the hate melted away like ice under the sun. It wasn't hate that filled her chest now. It was love. Still. After everything. After centuries of silence, of solitude, of heartache, her love for him remained, stubborn and unyielding.

It was maddening and...It was infuriatingly disappointing. So very disappointing. How could she be so weak?!

She had made her home within the emptiness that had surrounded her all these centuries and had managed to live with it. Manage to live on hating him. But then he comes back and what happens then? 

She has to face the truth. 

"Priye please....I beg you. I beg your forgiveness."

Lakshmi squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to let the tears spill over. Her heart clenched painfully in her chest, but she wouldn't break—not for him. Why did he have to say that? Why couldn't he just leave?

"Stop," she whispered, her voice shaky. "Please... stop." She didn't want to hear his confessions. 

"Priye please forgive me..."

So he wanted her forgiveness. Was that all?  Was that all he wanted? Now after all these centuries, he was feeling guilty and so he had come for her....not out of love, not because he missed her, but to free his own heart from the weight of his remorse..

But what about her heart ?.... Who would free it from the love that she still harbored for him? She now wished she could be like as she was before her marriage. 

She had traveled freely, wandering the realms without concern or expectation. She was her own person, with no one's name attached to hers, no obligations, no heartbreak. She had laughed easily, without knowing the kind of ache that could root itself in the depths of one's soul.

But then...she had seen him—those gentle, lotus-shaped eyes, the soft smile that lit up his face. Vishnu, the Preserver of the Universe. She had been told that she was his Shakti, that her power, her very essence, was entwined with his. She had been apprehensive at first—overwhelmed by the idea of being eternally bound to someone she barely knew.

Yet... he had been so charming. Effortlessly graceful.

She had resisted at first, tried to keep her distance, tried to maintain that freedom she held so dear. 

But Narayan... he knew how to win hearts, didn't he? 

With his tender words, his warm smiles, the way he looked at her as though she was the only thing that mattered in the universe. And soon enough, they were married, their love blossoming like the most delicate of flowers.

Before she realized it, she was his Lakshmi. His Shakti. His consort. His love. And with that came the love she hadn't expected, love so deep it consumed her. And oh, how she had fallen—fallen so hard. Pouring all her heart into him, her every breath, trusting him with her soul. Eons had passed, and in that time, she had given him everything. Her heart, her devotion, her endless loyalty. 

And he had shattered it.

What had she gotten in return? Abandonment. Silence. The crushing realization that despite being his eternal partner, he could still leave her alone as if she were nothing.

For centuries, she had questioned herself. Had she not been enough? Had she failed him as his eternal consort? Those nights, alone, as she thought about how he had wandered into the lives of others, taking on new forms, new partners, new lovers—new wives. 

Her fists clenched as the fury and her nails dug in her palms.

What about her? What about the pain she had carried, the emptiness she had made a home out of? Did her suffering not matter?

Should she just send him away? That thought alone tempted her. 

It would be so easy to tell him to leave, to never show his face again. But the truth—oh, the truth—was that it wouldn't end there. It wouldn't be that easy. The torment would follow her. It would echo in her heart, in her soul, forever.

But could she be selfish for once? For once in her existence, could she think about herself?

She could be selfish. She had every right to. Just this once.

Lakshmi turned back to face him, her heart pounding as she met his gaze. His face was full of sorrow, full of guilt. Her own eyes were misty now, no longer able to hide the pain she carried.

She had to do this. 

She had to lay her heart bare, one last time, before he left her for good. She had to speak the truth, even if it shattered her all over again.

She tried to blink away her tears and inhaled deeply, willing herself to be strong, and stepped closer to him.

"I gave you everything," she began, her voice shaking, "and you left me with nothing. Look at how blind it had made me that...that I still love you..... her voice cracked, but she refused to fall apart. 

"But don't worry," she continued, her chest heaving with the effort, "I'm not going to interfere in your life anymore."But don't worry. I am not going to interfere in your life anymore." She took a deep breath, her chest heaving with the weight of her words. "I'm going to forgive you for me. Because I can't carry this burden any longer. I can't live with this pain. I can't force you to love me when you are in love with other women. So it's better for all that you be free of it all. And let me be free too....." 

Tears streamed down her face as she tried to compose herself, her gaze fixed on the space between them. 

It was over. One last act of closure.

"I forgive you. You can be free of me now. Free from this past, free from each other. So here, today, I shall release you from every string that ties you to me."

Narayan's eyes widened as he realized what she was about to do.

"I, Sri Lakshmi, hereby release you, Narayan, from—"

"NO! STOP!" Narayan's voice erupted in desperation as he rushed forward, placing his hand gently but urgently over her mouth, his own eyes pleading. "Please, don't do this. Not like this."

"Why Narayan, why do you torment me so? Go back to your family. Don't you want that?" She looked away, unable to control the tears that continued to fall on her cheeks. "Don't you want to go back to your...children? They must be waiting for their father. Go back. I promise I will not interfere. I haven't yet and I will not start now."

"No, please," Narayan's voice trembled. "You misunderstand me. I'm not here to clear my guilt or ease my conscience. I am here because I cannot lose you. Hridaye, my heart still belongs to you, it beats for you, and no one else. Please... give me a chance to make amends. I'm here to set things right, to show you how deeply I regret everything—and how much I still love you."

"Love me? What would you know about love? It was me who had loved you with every breath I took, with each molecule of my being. Was it then so wrong of me to expect it back from you? Was it such a crime to ask if my husband's heart belonged to me?"

Her voice rose with each word, and Narayan flinched but did not look away. "And what exactly did you expect to happen when you said I had to share your heart with someone else? I had rightly asked you to leave in my anger... but was it so wrong of me, that you had to betray me in such a way?"

She stopped to catch her breath, her voice trembling now, her body shaking. "You cursed me, Narayan, in your jealousy—to be born as a mare, humiliated. But the moment I acted out of hurt, you saw me as a villain. Is it so wrong to want a love that's solely mine, and to be devastated when you shatter that?"

Narayan's throat tightened. He had no words. He had no defense, no justification for what he had done. "No," he whispered, his voice breaking. "It wasn't wrong. You were never wrong, Priye. I was. And I... I can never make up for what I've done. I don't even know if I deserve your forgiveness."

She shoved him again, her hands trembling with the force of emotions she could no longer contain. "Do you even know what it's like, Narayan? Do you know what it's like to be alone, to have your heart ripped to pieces and be forced to stitch it back together with nothing but fading memories?" She had been strong for so long—too long—and now, faced with him, she could no longer hold back the flood of anguish.

He sobbed hearing the pain in her voice. He deserved this. He had earned every ounce of her rage, her grief. He bowed his head, taking in her words, letting them crash into him like the very waves that surrounded them.

"I begged the universe to bring you back, Narayan!" Lakshmi continued, sobbing with him "I waited for you! For years, I believed you would return to me, but you never did." She clutched at her chest as if trying to contain the pain threatening to consume her. "You have no idea what it was like... to sit here, day after day, knowing you were out there, but never coming back. Do you know what it feels like to be forgotten by the one you love the most? What it feels like to be betrayed by the one closest to you?"

"I would never betray you,Sri. Not for a moment. I have been lost without you—"

"Lost?" Lakshmi let out a bitter laugh, cutting him off once more. "Lost is wandering aimlessly, searching for something. You didn't search for me, Narayan. You left. You left me to wither away in this emptiness. Abandoned for other women. I guess you must have found them more beautiful, more worthy of you heart."

Narayan shook his head desperately. "No, Priye, that's not—"

"LIES! I saw you with them, Narayan, with my own eyes! You looked at them with the same affection, the same tenderness that you once reserved for me. How could you stand here, knowing what you had done to me, and still claim it was never about them? How can you deny what I saw, what I felt in my bones?"

"It wasn't me who did that...please it wasn't your Narayan."

"It wasn't you? Are you saying it wasn't you who made love to them? Fathered children with them? Who held them close while I waited here, alone?"

Narayan swallowed hard, his guilt consuming him. "It was me. I admit it... but at the same time, it wasn't. I was truly lost— Do you know that Mahadev and I fought? That we clashed—"

"I don't care about Mahadev's affairs!" Lakshmi cut him off sharply"Why should I care about him when he, too, hid the truth from me? Even Sakhi Parvati—everyone kept me in the dark. But no more, Narayan. No more lies. I've been naive for far too long, trusting everyone blindly. Perhaps it was for the best. Now, at least, I know all of your true faces."

Narayan's heart clenched at her words. "No, Priye. You don't know the full story. If you would just listen—"

"You think I care about your reasons? You think I care about who you fought? All I know is that you left me. You abandoned me for others, and I was left here to suffer." She shoved him again, her hands trembling. "Just go. I will not stay with a man who doesn't know my worth."

"Lakshmi, please listen to me," Narayan pleaded, his voice a broken whisper. His heart was shattering, but he couldn't leave her—not like this.

"No," she whispered, stepping further away. "No more excuses, Narayan. No more justifications. Just leave. If you truly loved me, you wouldn't have done what you did."

"Please, Sri, let me finish," Narayan's voice grew more desperate, but she wouldn't let him speak.

"No! You lost that right the day you turned your back on me!" Lakshmi's voice rose, shaking with anger. "You lost the right to explain when you chose them! Narayan! You—"

"I DIDN'T REMEMBER YOU!" Narayan's voice erupted, his words booming through the air as he grabbed her shoulders, his eyes wild with the weight of his confession. His sudden shout froze her in place, the raw pain in his voice cutting through her fury like a knife.

"I didn't remember you," he whispered again, his voice breaking. "I didn't know who I was. I didn't know... I didn't know you, Sri. Please I beg you...for once listen to me."

It was his anguish that made her pause. She didn't want to listen, but the rawness in his words, the depth of his pain—it broke something inside her, something she had been holding onto for too long.

"You have one minute," she whispered, her voice barely audible. But it was enough.

Narayan's hands, trembling, moved from her shoulders to gently cup her face. His eyes, shimmering with unshed tears, bore into hers, pleading silently for her understanding. "How could I deny them, Priye? How could I deny my devotees when they asked me for a boon—to forget everything, to forget everyone and belong only to them? They prayed with such devotion, they pleaded... and I granted them that wish. But I didn't know, Sri. I didn't know you... or myself."

"You forgot me?" Her voice was a whisper, filled with a mixture of disbelief and betrayal. "You... forgot us?b"

"It wasn't a choice," he murmured, guilt heavy in his voice. "It was an obligation, a duty I couldn't escape. They didn't ask for wealth or power; they asked for me, and they asked me to forget... everything else. To live only for them. I was bound by my promise to fulfill their wish."

"But me, Narayan?" Lakshmi's voice cracked, her heart breaking all over again. "You forgot me? The one who has been by your side for eternity?"

Narayan's tears spilled over as he shook his head. "I didn't want to forget you, Priye. The moment their wish was fulfilled, I was lost. My memories of us, of everything we had—everything that made me who I am—vanished. I lived in a fog, doing what was expected of me, but deep inside, something was always wrong. Always missing." He paused, his voice choking on his own guilt. "It wasn't until they withdrew their words that it all came rushing back. That I remembered you, remembered us. I've been trying to return to you ever since, to undo the damage I caused. But I know—nothing can take away the pain I've inflicted."

"But how, Narayan?" Her voice was faint, broken. "How could you fulfill such a boon?"

Narayan lowered his head, his voice barely a whisper. "It had to be done, Priye. They needed to understand the consequences of their desires, the consequences of asking for such a boon."

"No." Lakshmi's voice rose, disbelief flooding her words. "No, it didn't. How many times have others asked the same thing from you? To be someone's lover, to be someone's husband—and you denied them. You always denied them! Why this time? Why did you give in now?"

Narayan's face twisted in pain as he struggled for the words. "Because they needed to see, Lakshmi. They needed an example, a warning of the weight of their wishes."

"And you think this was the way to do it?" Lakshmi's voice cracked as she stepped back, her eyes filled with tears. "You could've spoken to me! You could have saved us all this pain."

"I know," Narayan whispered, his voice drenched in regret. "Believe me, I never meant for it to happen like this."

Lakshmi's eyes searched his face, desperate for an answer. "What did you think would happen, Narayan? What did you expect after you gave in to their wishes? What would have happened if they hadn't withdrawn the boon? What then?" Her voice wavered, the enormity of what had occurred hitting her all at once.

Narayan bowed his head, unable to meet her gaze. "I'm sorry, Priye. I truly am. It was supposed to be temporary, fleeting—nothing more. The universe was meant to hang in a fragile balance supported only by you without me. I thought once you realized what had happened it would collapse altogether and others would be compelled to act, and the boon would be undone. But it lasted far longer than I ever anticipated. It spiraled out of control."

"You gambled with us," Lakshmi whispered, her heart breaking with the realization. "You gambled with me."

"But I didn't know! Not for years, Narayan! Your Mahadev refused to tell me anything!"

Narayan's face tightened, his hand reaching to gently caress her cheek. "Perhaps he didn't want his sister to suffer."

Lakshmi's voice cracked, her eyes brimming with tears. "But suffer I did! In the worst way possible. I had to witness my husband... with another."

Narayan winced, wiping away the tears that streamed down her face, each drop cutting him deeper than any wound. He cursed himself silently, knowing she must have shed countless tears for him, for the love she thought she had lost. "I'm so sorry, my love," he whispered, his voice breaking with remorse. "I never meant for it to be this way. If I could have taken on all the pain you endured, I would have done so in an instant. I would give anything to undo the past, to erase the hurt I've caused you. But all I can do now is make amends, to prove that my love for you is as eternal and unbreakable as it's always been."

"But how can I trust you now, Narayan?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. "How can I believe that this time will be any different? You've always been bound to your duty—that's who you are. If it meant preserving the world, would you not hesitate again? Wouldn't you choose duty over me? You would, in a heartbeat."

"You're wrong, Priye," Narayan said softly, pulling her closer into his arms. "No peace, no world, would ever be worth losing you again. Nothing matters more to me than you."

She pulled away turning her back towards him. Some sweet words can hardly reverse the torture that she endured for centuries. "Narayan.. I want to believe you. I really do. But my trust is shattered. I don't think if it can even be rebuilt at all." She whispered to him, wanting him to understand her plight, the state of her vulnerable heart. " I don't know if I can believe in you anymore."

He sank to his knees before her, his head bowed, sobbing. "Then let me prove it to you, Sri. Let me spend eternity trying if that's what it takes. I am begging you. Begging for one chance. Just one. To be the Narayan you fell in love with. To be the man who would give his entire existence just to see you smile again."

"Look at me... please," he whispered, his tone laced with desperation.

The in his plea compelled her to turn towards him.

What she saw left her breathless.

Narayan had transformed before her eyes. No longer the regal and imposing figure she had known, he had become an embodiment of his most raw and elemental form. It was as if he were made of thousands of tiny, shimmering particles, each one brimming with an almost palpable energy. The particles flowed and shifted. It was as if he was the very flow of time itself—eternal, unyielding.

Her eyes widened. What was she seeing? Each particle of his being glowed softly, pulsating with light, and within each speck of energy, she saw something that made her gasp.

Herself.

Reflected in every single fragment of his form, Lakshmi saw herself—her pain, her love, her essence intertwined with his. She saw her own image in his very being as if he were made up of the moments they had shared, the love they had nurtured across countless lifetimes. Every smile, every tear, every touch—they were all there, within him, in the particles that made him who he was.

"This is who I am," he whispered to her. "You are in every part of me, Sri, not just my heart. I am nothing without you. I cannot exist without you... and I cannot lose you again.

She had never seen him like this, never imagined him in this state of pure, raw unfiltered truth. The universe itself was laid bare before her, and at its core, there was only the undeniable truth of their connection—how inextricably bound they were, how impossible it was for him to exist without her.

Narayan pleaded her once more  not unlike a man who had finally laid his soul bare. "I am begging you, please... let me try. You are not just my consort, not just my wife... you are my best friend."

"You are the one I share everything with, Sri," Narayan continued,  "Who else knows me the way you do?"

His voice grew more fervent as he stepped closer. 

"You're the one who laughs at my jokes, even when no one else understands them. You're the one who teases me, who understands the quiet moments of joy, who shares in my pain when the weight of this world becomes too much. The one who understands the parts of me that even I sometimes struggle to comprehend. When I'm with you, I can be myself. Just Narayan. Without you..." His voice faltered, and he reached out, taking her hands in his trembling grasp. "Without you, I don't know who I am anymore. You are my person, Sri. My best friend." 

"Sri, without you, none of this—," he gestured to the vast expanse of his form, the universe that flickered within him, "none of this means anything. Without you, there's no joy in it, no laughter, no love. You are the one who makes it all worth it. You are my reason."

"I want you..." His eyes locked with hers, full of love, full of fear. "I need you, Hridaye." He raised her hands to his lips, kissing them with a reverence that made Lakshmi's heart ache. And then, gently, he pressed them to his forehead, praying with all his heart. 

He looked up at her after a while waiting for her response. 

But he could only watch in despair as she removed her hands from his. His heart plummeted. He had lost her!  He couldn't control the sobs that escaped him.

But then, like a lifeline pulling him back, he felt her hands on his face, soft and warm, lifting him from the darkness. "Narayan..."

"Narayan....Open your eyes and look at me!"  Her voice cut through the fog in his mind, and with trembling breath, he slowly opened his eyes.

Lakshmi was kneeling in front of him now, her face close to his." Narayan...Let's start again," she whispered, the words barely more than a breath, but they were everything. 

Narayan's eyes widened in disbelief. He stared at her. Had he heard her correctly? Her words were too good to be real. "Sri.. do you mean—?"

"Yes," she whispered, her thumbs brushing the tears from his cheeks as she held his face between her hands. "I mean it. We can't undo what's happened. But we can try. We can rebuild. We'll start again... together."

Narayan's heart soared. His hands reached up to cover hers, trembling as they held her palms to his face. "Thank you," he whispered, "thank you, Sri." 

He  pulled her gently into his arms, holding her as if she were the most precious thing in the universe, which to him, she was.

He promised to himself that he would never let that pain strike her again if he could help it.

But curse himself into oblivion because Krishna was sure he had done it again. She must be releving those haunting memories again now....because his damn self couldn't have a simple conversation with his wife! 

Curse him! What was wrong with him?

It was such a simple thing—a conversation. That's all it was. He should have told her. He should have confided in Devashree about the marriage proposal that Tamasvi's family had brought forth. But own hesitation, his reluctance to burden her with more, had led to this silence. Why hadn't he told her? What had stopped him from just being honest, from trusting her with the truth, as he had promised to do long ago?

He had almost searched the whole palace now. Where was she? He raked his hand through his hair.

He looked to his right and paused at the entrance to a secluded wing, a place they seldom visited. Something urged him to look here, to trust his instinct. He glanced sideways at a door, one that led to a small, quiet chamber. His hand hesitated only for a moment before he pushed it open.

And there, at the far end, he saw her—Devashree. She was sitting on the floor, her back against the wall, knees drawn to her chest, her face buried in her hands. Her shoulders shook with the silent sobs she could no longer hold back.

Krishna's heart twisted at the sight. He approached her slowly, his steps soft on the stone floor. "Shree..." he called her name gently, his voice tender and full of regret.

She didn't look up.

"Please," Krishna knelt beside her, reaching out to touch her arm, "Please,Shree look at me."

Devashree lifted her head and without a word, she threw herself into his arms. The suddenness of it nearly took his breath away, but Krishna wrapped his arms around her tightly, holding her as if he could shield her from every hurt in the world. His hand ran gently through her hair, his voice trembling with his own emotion.

"I'm so sorry, Shree... I should have told you... I should have..." His words tumbled out, frantic and full of regret. "The proposal—it didn't mean anything. I rejected it, I swear. I was going to tell you, I just... I didn't want to burden you. I thought—I thought I could handle it on my own, but I was wrong. I should have told you. You deserved to know."

Devashree pulled back slightly, her tear-streaked face meeting his as she shook her head, trying to reassure him through her sobs. "I know, Swami. I know you rejected it. I know you wouldn't..." Her voice wavered, and she swallowed hard. "I know you wouldn't hurt me like that."

Krishna's brow furrowed in confusion, his hands still holding her tightly. "Then why are you crying, my love?" he asked softly, his thumb wiping a stray tear from her cheek.

"Because for a moment there I doubted you. It made me feel so... so ashamed of myself. I am sorry."

"You have nothing to be ashamed of. Don't say that."

"I'm supposed to trust you, completely, without question. But when I heard about the proposal... for a moment, just a fleeting moment, I doubted you. I doubted us." Her fingers clutched the fabric of his uppavastra. "And that doubt—" she hesitated, her eyes downcast, "it made me feel like I was failing you."

"No, Shree. No, you didn't fail me. Don't ever think that." His fingers brushed away the last traces of her tears.

Devashree sniffled, leaning into his touch. "But I—"

"Shh..." Krishna gently interrupted, pulling her closer. "You doubted because you care. Because you love me. I should have told you. I should have been honest from the start. This... this is on me, Shree, not you. I don't ever want you to feel like you're failing in this love." 

"Hmm."

Still holding her close, he allowed a small smile to play at the corners of his lips as he gently brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. "You know," he said, "your emotions must be going haywire with this pregnancy. I don't think I can cope with this much longer. One moment you're crying, the next you're doubting, and now you're—" 

Devashree snuggled in closer, refusing to let go of the warmth and safety she felt in his arms. 

"—clutching me like a koala." He finished.

Devashree let out a soft, playful pout, her lips curling downward as she glanced up at him. "You should've just told me when I asked what was wrong," she mumbled, her voice half-scolding, half-affectionate.

Krishna leaned back on his elbow, lying down beside her with a dramatic sigh. "Ah, of course," he replied, smirking as he stared at the ceiling.

 "It would have saved us both from this whole mess."

"Of course, Priye. How could I forget? I should have known better than to keep something from you." He kissed the top of her head, his teasing tone still lingering as he murmured, "Lesson learned, my love. Next time, I promise I'll be an open book. No more keeping things from my fierce and brilliant wife."

"It's among the many eternal laws a husband should follow for his better health."

Krishna's eyes twinkled with amusement as he lifted his head slightly to look at her. "Oh?"

"Yes, Swami," Devashree replied with a serious tone. "One of the major rules in the eternal laws of marriage is that a husband should agree to everything his wife says. It's essential for maintaining harmony and—" She paused dramatically, leaning closer to his face, "—ensuring his own well-being."

 "Is that so?  Shall I start taking notes?"

"You should. Because if you don't do that, the consequences can be horrific. I don't want to scare you but you should know."

Krishna raised an eyebrow, clearly trying to stifle a grin.  "Now I'm curious. What sort of consequences are we talking about, Priye?"

"Well... let's look at history, Swami. Raja Dashrath obeyed his wife Kaikeyi, even if it meant sending his beloved Ram to the forest. And what did Shri Ram do? He went chasing after a silly deer just to fulfill Sita's wish—even if it led to an entire war. These, of course, are examples of great men. Men who knew the importance of listening to their wives."

Krishna smiled, nodding along. "But?"

"But Raavan," Devashree continued, her voice dropping to a dramatic whisper, "did not obey Mandodari and look what happened to him. Not only did he die, but he continues to burn in agony to this very day!"

Krishna let out a deep, exaggerated gasp. " Oh my god. All this because he disobeyed his wife?"

"Exactly," Devashree said with a satisfied nod, barely suppressing a smile. "You don't want to end up like Raavan, do you?"

"You've made your point, Priye. I will obey every word. I'd rather chase after a thousand deer than suffer Raavan's fate."

"Good. Just keep that in mind next time I ask for something," she teased, snuggling into him with a grin.

"But you have to promise not to be so emotional when I do."

Devashree let out a huff. "No promises."

"Krishna! Devashree! Where are you two hiding now?" Balram's booming voice resonated through the palace corridors, frustration laced in his tone as he searched for them.

Krishna smirked. "You'd think they could survive without us for a while," he said, shaking his head in exasperation.

Devashree chuckled softly. "Come, Swami. Otherwise, they'll turn the whole palace upside down trying to find us."

Just as she stood up, a sudden, unmistakable pop sound filled the air, and Devashree froze. Her eyes widened, and she let out a startled gasp. "Swami..." she whispered, her voice trembling with both surprise and disbelief.

Krishna's smile faltered as he quickly turned to her. "What is it, Priye?"

He immediately stood up and his eyes widened as he watched her lift the hem of her saree. Clear white liquid spilled down her thighs and legs, pooling on the ground beneath her.

"My water broke, Swami."

******

A/N

Words: 7480

Loong time no see....Took me some time to write this chapter. It was not the actual writing that was difficult but it was Newton's first law that was acting in this instance. 

How LakshmiNarayan went forward with their story will be expanded on in the next chapter but in a very brief way.

Anyway...ITS TIME!!! 🥰😍🫠❤️❤️

Until the next part....😗