Tw: explicit content after the heart. Summary in the bottom

Naina

I stared at my hands, the reality of everything crashing down around me. This was the first time I had truly confronted what had happened. All this while, I had tried to push it to the back of my mind, but I had never really forgotten. You could never forget something like that. Yet, I hadn't spoken about it to Maya, to my parents, or to my counselor. Even when I wrote Stay Mine, I made it sound like an accident and held on to that version of events.

I had never considered that not telling Zayne about it might be unfair. But now, I realized he might not have wanted to marry someone who had been sexually assaulted.

The concept of "informed consent" came to mind, something we had been taught in medical college. Consent to proceed with a procedure or a test wasn't truly an informed consent unless the patient understood the risks and benefits.

Zayne hadn't had the chance to make an informed decision because I had withheld critical information from him.

"Naina, it wasn't up to you to save him," he told me, and I looked into Zayne's eyes; his cheeks were wet with tears.

"I'm sorry, Zayne," I said again. I stared at my hands again, unable to hold his gaze.

He shook his head, his expression filled with understanding. "Naina, I'm sorry for forcing you to talk about this."

I looked at him, confused. How could someone be so selfless?

"Naina, you told me that after you left him, you felt sad, relieved to be free but guilty for feeling that way," he continued.

I didn't remember having that conversation with him, at least not in this context. I looked up, searching his face for something—anything—that could pull me out of the suffocating misery I felt.

"I want you to focus on that feeling of relief, Naina." His voice trembled, though there were no signs of tears; it felt as if he were crying on the inside.

"You felt relieved because you escaped the obligation to be with someone who was hurting you. You got out while he still regretted his actions. If you had stayed with him, Naina, he would have become immune to that guilt. He would have hurt you more, and over time, he might have resented you or blamed you for his actions instead of feeling guilty."

"I hate who I am when I'm with you."

Maya had discussed this with me and I had learnt about this during our psychiatry rotations—how, regardless of the cause of abuse, when a victim stayed with the abuser, it enabled the abuser. Over time, they would come to think that their behavior was acceptable.

But that hadn't been the case with Adi and me. He had truly loved me.

"Nia, are you going to save me?"

I felt a fresh wave of despair wash over me. I had failed. I couldn't save him.

"I never thought I would be deserving of love. I thought one day you would see who I really am and leave. Do you know how much it means to me that you have stayed? Do you know how much you mean to me? You are everything, Nia. You are everything to me."

"It wasn't up to you, Naina, to fix him. He should've wanted to be fixed, to get better..." Zayne continued, his voice steady but tinged with frustration.

"But he did," I interrupted, my heart racing. Adi had never received a formal diagnosis of PTSD because he would never reveal to anyone what had happened to him —except me.

He had spoken to a 'Brother' at his church while it had been happening, and the advice he had received had only compounded his pain. The Brother had told him that it was impossible for a woman force herself on him without his active participation. He had been told that had been his fault, his sin. And that if anyone found out, he would be in big trouble.

He had been barely sixteen. He had believed for the longest time that he was some kind of a monster, undeserving of affection, incapable of love.

I had told him time and again that none of the therapy would work if the diagnosis was wrong—impulse control disorder, anxiety, ADHD, narcissistic personality disorder. Every label, every behavioral intervention had failed. I never understood why he wouldn't talk about it until now.

I too had seen psychologists and psychiatrists, three different counselors in total including my best friend. I had fed them all the same lies— about me being in a relationship for seven years, how he had suspected me of cheating, how he had gotten angry and pushed me when I had tried to hug him, leading to my fall onto a nightstand and the night lamp crashing down on my face. I had recited this story so many times that I had begun to believe it myself. I wanted so desperately for it to have been true.

I felt the tears welling up again, each sob tearing through me like the ripples of a wave. Zayne moved closer, taking me into his arms and holding me tightly, grounding me against the tsunami of emotions that threatened to drown me.

"You did everything you could, Naina. There's nothing to feel guilty about. You did everything in your power to help him..."

His words engulfed me, and slowly, I began to calm down. I felt completely spent, yet I held on to Zayne. I was grateful for him. One day I would make it up to him.

---

It was a dreamless sleep, the kind I hadn't experienced in a long time. When I woke up, Zayne was turned away from me, his hip brushing against me. I smiled. I had noticed this about him—he would hold me close until I was asleep, but once I drifted off, he would instinctively move away.

Zayne was amazing. I liked him a lot; maybe I even loved him, but not in a romantic sense. I felt a strong attraction to him, and my heart fluttered when he looked at me, but I didn't feel that intense pull I associated with being in love. Yet, I genuinely looked forward to spending time with him. I loved being held by him, and last night, before all those overwhelming memories had resurfaced, I had truly enjoyed his touch. I had wanted him.

Feeling bold, I moved closer to Zayne and hugged him from behind. He startled slightly before turning to face me, and when he did, I smiled.

His groggy eyes opened. He was truly handsome. His features weren't as exquisite as Advik's, but there was something comforting about them. I let my gaze roam over his oval face, taking in his dark brown, almond-shaped eyes, the straight line of his nose, and his teeth—his canines sharp enough to pass him off as a vampire. The slight stubble on his chin, his broad shoulders, and the hint of hair on his chest.

He chuckled, and I felt a blush creep up my cheeks. I realized he was watching me as I took him in.

"Are you done? Planning to write an exam?" he teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

"No," I replied, intentionally letting my gaze drop from his chest down to his abdomen, then lower. I felt shameless, but I relished making him sweat a little.

"Naina..." The way he said my name sent a jolt through me, and my lingering gaze seemed to awaken something else in him.

I placed my hand on his chest, letting it glide over his muscles, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing. I stopped at the left side, resting my palm against the rhythm of his heart.

He was breathing hard, but he didn't move away. He didn't try to touch me, either; he simply lay still, caught in the moment. I used my other hand to explore down to his abdomen, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath my fingertips. But as I reached his lower abdomen, he suddenly grasped my wrist.

"Naina!" he gasped, the surprise in his voice breaking the spell.

I blinked, suddenly aware of how far I had let my curiosity take me. Confusion washed over me—what had come over me to touch him with such familiarity?

"Let's brush our teeth," he said, and I stretched my arms overhead, feeling a rush of energy.

Somehow today, everything felt lighter. I wasn't sure if it was the catharsis of last night or the comforting safety Zayne offered me, but I savored the feeling. I didn't know if it was momentary or if it would last, but I was determined to seize it. I felt light and airy, as if I could float above the same waters that had threatened to drown me yesterday.

We headed to the buffet at the Lotus Pavilion. I poured myself a cup of tea and opted for a buttercream pancake, while Zayne chose a dosa.

"Are you kidding?" I exclaimed, eyeing his plate incredulously. Of all the tempting options at this breakfast spread, he had gone for the same dosa he ate at the cafeteria.

"What?" He looked at me, stuffing his mouth with Mysore podi dosa.

"Why don't you try something new?" I asked, a teasing lilt in my voice.

"Why?" he replied, chewing and dipping his next piece into the sambar and then the chutney, oblivious to my incredulity.

"Because you have other options!" I rolled my eyes playfully.

I cut my pancake into little squares, dipped one into maple syrup, and extended the fork toward him. "Try it!"

He swallowed and opened his mouth. I placed the fork inside, grinning at him. "Good?"

"Very," he replied, his eyes sparkling.

I offered him a second piece, but in my excitement, I accidentally dipped my left hand into the maple syrup on my plate.

He caught my eye, a smile spreading across his face as he took my hand in his, licking the syrup from my wrist to my little finger.

I pulled my hand away, shocked that Zayne would do something so bold in public. "Zayne!" I hissed, half-laughing, half-astonished.

He chuckled, and my heart raced in response.

"No more pancake for you," I mumbled, trying to hide my smile.

We soon finished our breakfast, and as we walked back to our room, I asked, "How long are we staying here?"

"We'll leave for Mangalore tomorrow," he replied casually. "By regular flight."

I laughed, recalling his little lecture from earlier. "So we can fly on the stratosphere?"

He leaned in and gave me a quick kiss on the lips, which silenced my giggles instantly. We were in the corridor, and I could feel the warmth radiating from him.

"Zayne!" I exclaimed, teasingly.

He took my hand and quite literally dragged me toward our room taking long strides. I had to jog to keep up with him, and an elderly couple passing by gave us a knowing smile as we rushed past.

He fumbled with the key card, dropping it twice before I finally picked it up from the floor and swiped it. The moment we entered our room, he gathered me in his arms and kissed me fervently.

It was the most passionate kiss I had experienced from Zayne. He crumpled my hair in his hands, pressing his lips against mine, his body melding with mine. I responded with equal fervor, lost in the moment.

I liked this uninhibited version of Zayne.

Zayne's hands slid down to my hips, and he gently guided me backward until my legs hit the edge of the bed. I felt a rush of excitement as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against mine, igniting a hunger that begged to be satisfied.

With scorching intensity in his gaze, he lifted me effortlessly, setting me down on the soft mattress. I looked up at him, my heart racing as he hovered over me, his dark eyes filled with desire. He pressed his body against mine, and I felt wanted, loved.

"You're so beautiful, Naina," he murmured, his voice low and filled with sincerity. I felt a blush creeping up my cheeks at his words, and I could see the admiration in his eyes.

Zayne leaned down, capturing my lips again, this time with a deeper intensity. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer as I melted into the kiss. His hands explored my sides, fingers trailing along my waist and up my arms, until I felt like a puddle of nothing.

❤️
I could feel the warmth radiating from him, and it made me crave more. I shifted slightly, spreading my legs on either side of him. I tugged at his hips and he obliged, settling between my legs. I wanted Zayne to take me. I wanted him to make every bad memory leave me forever. I wanted Zayne to save me, to fix me. To make me feel loved again.

Zayne's lips traveled from mine to my jaw, trailing soft kisses down my neck. I gasped, arching into him, feeling the warmth of his breath against my skin.

His hands roamed freely, exploring the contours of my body as if memorizing every curve. I let out a soft moan, instinctively digging my fingers into his hair, urging him to continue. He responded by kissing a path back up to my lips, our breaths mingling in the heated space between us.

"Tell me what you want," he whispered against my lips, his voice husky with desire.

I hesitated, but the look in his eyes reassured me. "I want you, Zayne. I want to be your wife," I replied, my voice steady.

Zayne leaned down, capturing my lips again as he pushed me back onto the bed. The soft sheets felt like heaven against my skin, and I reveled in the way he kissed me, the way he held me as if I were the only thing that mattered.

He reached for the hem of my shirt, gently lifting it over my head and tossing it aside. I felt exposed yet safe under his gaze, and I could see the heat in his eyes as he took in the sight of me. I smiled shyly.

Zayne leaned down, his lips trailing kisses along my collarbone and down my chest, planting soft kisses that sent waves of warmth coursing through me. I gasped, arching my back as he continued to explore, his hands roaming freely over my skin.

"Zayne," I breathed, my voice thick with longing.

He paused, looking up at me, his desire only slightly tainted by worry. "Are you sure you are ready for this, Naina?"

I could feel my heart flutter at his words.

"Yes," I whispered, my body aching for him.

He resumed his kisses, slowly working his way down. My every nerve ending tingled as he showered me with affection. I ran my fingers along his back, feeling the strength of his muscles beneath my fingertips, lost in the moment.

I giggled as he reached for his wallet and tore open a packet of condoms. "You came prepared," I teased.

"Since our wedding, Naina," he breathed and I laughed nervously.

He was slow and careful as he entered me, his gaze fixed on mine, watching for any signs of discomfort.

It felt right. I felt comfortable, loved, complete. I saw nothing but the deep brown of his eyes and felt nothing but his body on mine. I let him take me as he poured his love, strength, courage, and passion into me.

❤️
Zayne. My Zayne.

"I love you, Naina," he said as he collapsed on me. I held him tight. "I love you, Naina..." he repeated as though expecting me to say it back.

Summary: Naina and Zayne finally consummate their marriage. When the deed is done, Naina feels comfortable, loved. It feels right.
But then Zayne says, "I love you, Naina" and she doesn't say it back.

Thank you for reading.

Remember that you are amazing, and there is a reason for everything. You are going to be okay.

❤️Faiza