Chapter 43

Subhi

I had never seen him like this before.

Abhimanyu, the boy who always carried himself with an air of indifference, now sat beside me, raw and vulnerable, his defenses crumbling right in front of me.

And it broke me.

I had always thought he was strong, untouchable. But now I realized—his strength wasn’t because he didn’t feel pain. It was because he carried it alone.

“I’m tired, Subhi.”

His voice was barely above a whisper, but the weight of those words crushed me.

I didn’t think. I just moved.

My fingers hesitated before gently wrapping around his hand. I expected him to flinch, to pull away like he always did. But he didn’t.

He let me hold him.

And that single moment felt more significant than anything else.

I tightened my grip, my voice soft but firm. “You don’t have to do this alone, Abhi.”

His eyes flickered to mine, guarded but searching.

“I don’t know how not to,” he admitted.

My heart clenched. “Then let me teach you.”

For a long moment, he didn’t say anything. The air between us was thick with unspoken emotions, with years of pain he had never allowed anyone to see.

And then, something changed.

His grip on my hand tightened, just slightly, but enough to let me know that he was listening. That maybe, just maybe, he wanted to believe me.

I smiled, trying to lighten the moment. “Besides, you’re stuck with me now. Whether you like it or not.”

A breath of laughter escaped him—soft, almost disbelieving. “I think I do.”

Something warm spread through my chest.

The night was silent, but in that silence, I felt something shift between us. The weight of his pain wasn’t gone, not yet, but for the first time, I knew he wasn’t carrying it alone.

And neither was I.