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This chap is affectionately dedicated to thesunhater -
🖤✨

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"Do not underestimate your heart
It's been played, stabbed, cheated, and broken, but somehow it still works...................."

~~~

The house was shrouded in darkness and silence when Vatsal finally returned home, much later than expected. The weight of the day’s events pressed heavily on him. He was sure everyone had gone to bed, or so he thought. But as he approached the front door, he noticed a faint light seeping through the living room curtains.

Inside, Shubhita had been unable to find any peace since the morning’s heated arguments. Her mind was a tumult of worry, anger, and confusion. She had wandered through the house, replaying the events over and over, unable to settle. She couldn’t shake the unease that gnawed at her, the uncertainty of their future hanging over her like a storm cloud. Her heart raced every time she thought about the harsh words exchanged, the tension that had filled their home.

The moment Vatsal barely touched the doorbell, the door swung open, revealing Shubhita standing there, her eyes wide and searching. He was taken aback, not expecting anyone to be awake, let alone waiting for him.

Their eyes locked, and in that instant, a flood of unspoken emotions surged between them. There was a desperation in their gazes, a silent plea for understanding, for connection. Yet, there was also a barrier, a chasm created by the recent events that neither knew how to bridge.

“You didn’t have to wait up,” Vatsal said softly, his voice tinged with guilt and surprise.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she replied, her tone clipped but betraying her concern. “Did you eat anything?”

He shook his head, his exhaustion evident in the slump of his shoulders. “No, nothing.”

“Wash your hands and come to the table,” she instructed, her voice firm but gentle.

Vatsal complied, feeling a mix of relief and confusion at her care. He had expected anger, maybe even coldness, but her concern caught him off guard. When he returned to the kitchen, he saw her at the stove, rolling out fresh chapatis. The sight struck him deeply. No one had ever done this for him before. If he missed a meal, he would be served cold food stored in casseroles and containers. Even his mother had always done it that way.

Watching her work, a wave of gratitude and sorrow washed over him. He approached her slowly, his heart heavy with the weight of the day’s emotions.

“Did you eat?” he asked quietly, his voice thick with concern.

She simply nodded, her focus on the chapati she was making.

When she brought the food to the table, Vatsal noticed the care she had put into the meal. Everything was fresh, steaming, and inviting. He felt a lump form in his throat. He helped her bring the other dishes to the table, an unspoken thank you in his actions.

Once he was seated in front of his plate, she poured him a glass of water and turned to leave for the room. But something stopped her. He reached out and gently grasped her wrist, his touch a silent plea.

“Stay,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper, his eyes fixed on his plate with a sad, almost pleading expression.

Shubhita turned back to him, her heart aching at the sight of his vulnerability. She could see the weariness etched on his face, the lines of stress that hadn’t been there before. Her initial frustration melted away, replaced by a deep, aching sympathy.

She furrowed her brows, searching his face for a moment, then pulled out a chair and sat down beside him. The silence between them was thick, laden with the weight of their unspoken feelings. As he began to eat, she watched him, her mind a whirl of thoughts and emotions.

Vatsal took a bite, the warmth and flavour of the fresh chapatti and curry contrasting sharply with the cold, detached meals he was used to. He glanced at her, his eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and something deeper, something he couldn’t quite put into words.

“Thank you,” he said softly, breaking the silence. “No one has ever done this for me before.”

Shubhita’s heart ached at his words. She chose to remain silent at that.

The silence between Vatsal and Shubhita remained thick and awkward as he ate. They occasionally glanced at each other, the unspoken tension palpable. Vatsal wanted to speak, to bridge the chasm that had formed between them, but the words eluded him. Shubhita, sitting idly, felt equally uncomfortable. She shifted in her seat, her eyes darting around the room, wishing for something to break the silence.

When Vatsal finished his meal, they quietly cleaned up together, each lost in their own thoughts. The atmosphere was heavy with unresolved emotions, a fragile peace that could shatter with the slightest wrong move. They moved to their room in silence, a shared, unspoken agreement to avoid further conflict for the night.

Once in their room, Vatsal went to the washroom to change into his usual nighttime attire—a comfortable t-shirt and shorts. Emerging from the washroom, he saw Shubhita standing by the window, staring out into the night. Her posture was tense, her silhouette outlined by the faint moonlight filtering through the curtains.

Vatsal walked towards her, intending to stand beside her, but before he could, Shubhita spoke, her voice cutting through the silence.

“Aren’t you leaving in the morning?” she asked, her tone a mixture of resignation and pain.

Vatsal stopped in his tracks, taken aback by the question. “You too want me to leave?” he asked, his voice barely concealing the hurt.

Shubhita turned to face him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Do my opinions hold any importance? Did you ask me before that you’re asking now?” Her voice cracked, the dam of her emotions breaking.

Vatsal was at a loss for words, her questions hitting him harder than he expected. Her eyes immediately welled up, and tears began to spill down her cheeks. The sight of her in such distress unsettled him deeply. He didn’t want her to suffer like this, didn’t want anyone else to feel as trapped and miserable as he did in this house.

He raised his hands, intending to hold her by the shoulders and offer some comfort, but stopped midway, feeling awkward and unsure. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself before speaking.

“I know you’re going through a lot here, Shubhita,” he began, his voice gentle but strained. “But I told you before, my family isn’t the kind where a child feels happy or secure. But you were adamant with your hopefulness. See now.”

He paused, the words weighing heavily on him. “I’ll be leaving soon from here, and I’d advise you to go to your parents’ home too. There’s no use in staying here.”

Shubhita’s face crumpled, her pain and frustration evident. Vatsal’s heart ached at the sight, but he felt trapped, knowing that staying here would only continue the cycle of unhappiness for both of them.

As he looked into her tear-filled eyes, memories of his parents flooded his mind. His father, driven by a desire to make Vatsal more responsible, saw marriage as a way to anchor him to the family, to create a sense of attachment that had always been missing. But Vatsal knew his father’s motivations were self-serving, aimed at fulfilling his own expectations of what a son should be. His mother, on the other hand, had been reluctant to let him marry until Jeevika resumed her job, not wanting to shoulder the household burdens alone, especially with the energetic toddlers running around.

He thought about how his mother’s complaining nature had driven away every maid they ever hired, her fussiness making it impossible for anyone to stay long. By bringing Shubhita into the family, they had hoped she would be the solution, the helping hand his mother desperately needed.

Shubhita’s tears flowed freely now, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Vatsal felt a deep sorrow seeing her like this. He wanted to comfort her, to make things right, but he didn’t know how.

“I’m sorry, Shubhita,” he said, his voice breaking. “I never wanted you to bear this burden. I thought... maybe things would be different. But I was wrong. If you go to your parents’ home, at least there you’ll have peace.”

Shubhita’s eyes brimmed with hurt and disappointment. “You all seem so eager to send me back to my parents, as if I’m an unwelcome guest here. What’s my parents’ fault in all of this? They married me off believing I’d be happy here... with you. How would they feel if they knew the truth? Your family only thinks of its own status and dignity, but what about my family’s? Won’t my parents face shame if I return to them, married and yet living in the same town?” Her voice, barely above a whisper, trembled with the weight of her anguish.

Vatsal’s heart sank as he heard the pain in Shubhita’s voice. He took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts. “Shubhita, I never wanted to hurt you, and I certainly don’t want to disrespect your family. I know this is unfair to you. My parents... they aren’t easy to deal with. I didn’t anticipate how difficult it would be for you. I just want you to be in a place where you can find some peace, away from all this turmoil.”

He paused, his voice growing softer. “I know it’s not fair to ask you to go back, and I hate that it feels like I’m pushing you away. But staying here, in this house, with all this tension... I don’t want you to suffer like I have. It’s not about our families’ status; it’s about your well-being. If staying here is going to break you, then it’s not worth it.”

Shubhita looked at Vatsal, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Then take me with you,” she said, her voice trembling but determined. “If this place is so unbearable, let’s leave together. We’ll find our peace somewhere else. I didn’t marry you just to be sent away whenever things get tough. I want to be with you, wherever that is.”

Vatsal was stunned. He had not anticipated this. A girl raised in comfort and surrounded by loved ones, willing to leave everything behind for him—a man she barely knew, who had disrespected her in a drunken state, and whose family had ill-treated her. Her resolve and loyalty struck him deeply, filling him with a mix of awe and guilt. He had never imagined someone would make such a sacrifice for him, especially after all she had endured.

“You want to accompany me to Noida?” he asked, his voice filled with disbelief. “But there’s nothing—"

“—as if here’s everything for me?,” she interrupted, her eyes challenging him. Her gaze was unwavering, filled with a determination that left him speechless. She took a hopeless sigh before continuing, “I have made my mind that whatever it is now, it is there.”

Vatsal struggled to process her words, the weight of her decision sinking in. “But your job? You didn’t want to start over in a new place. Didn’t you say you had something here, that’s why—"

“Yes, I did say that,” she interrupted, her voice resolute. “But Vatsal, if I’m willing to start from zero—or even from below zero—with you, then I believe I can do the same with my career too.”

Vatsal’s rational mind quickly gave way to confusion and concern. He wasn’t ready to take her along to Noida. He barely had enough resources for himself; how could he possibly satisfy her needs? The responsibility of another soul on his shoulders was no joke. Taking Shubhita there meant more expenses, more obligations. Alone, he could manage somehow, but with another person, it was tough.

His thoughts whirled, and his face betrayed his inner turmoil. “Shubhita, I... I don’t know if this is a good idea,” he said, his voice faltering. “I can barely support myself in Noida. How can I take care of you too? It’s a huge responsibility.”

He shook his head, his worry deepening. “You don’t understand. It’s not just about a picnic or a tour. It’s about practicality. The cost of living, the added expenses... it’s overwhelming. I don’t want you to suffer because of my situation.”

Tears welled up in Shubhita’s eyes as she managed to vocalisw. “Vatsal, I’m not asking for luxury. I just want you to be respected...”

Her words tugged at his heart, but the fear and doubt persisted. “But what if it’s too much? What if I can’t provide for you? The pressure... it’s immense.”

Shubhita’s voice softened, her eyes filled with compassion. “I don’t need you to provide for me alone, Vatsal. I’m capable of contributing, of finding my own way too.”

Vatsal’s mind was a storm of conflicting emotions. He wanted to believe her, to trust that they could navigate this together. But the weight of responsibility loomed large, casting a shadow over his hopes.

“Shubhita, it’s not that simple,” he said, his voice cracking under the strain. “I’m scared. Scared of failing you too, of making things worse for both of us.”

She stepped closer, her hand finding his, her grip firm and reassuring. “Vatsal, I’m scared too. But I’d rather face that fear with you than stay here feeling lost and alone.”

His heart ached with the intensity of the moment. The faith and determination in her eyes were undeniable, yet the practicalities and uncertainties gnawed at him.

“But... No...”

~~~

This is it for now. Hope you liked it. I am sorry for the mistakes.

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