Chapter 19

The more time I spent with Tara, the more I realized how deeply she had become a part of my life. She didn't demand anything from me not in a  materialistic way but in emotional way like she didn't demanded to know about my past knowing very well the past wasn't kind to me she wasn't with me because she felt that she will make me move on from my past , she was with me because she wants to heal me , slowly collecting the pieces of my broken heart and mending them always there in her own gentle way , her quiet understanding and resilience spoke louder than words ever could. Her presence was comforting, a balm to wounds I hadn't even known were still raw.

And it was because of this—because she trusted me so completely—that I knew she deserved the truth.

Tara had never asked about my past. She never pried or tried to uncover the parts of me I kept hidden. But I couldn't keep this from her any longer. It wasn't fair. She had the right to know about Siya.

The thought of telling her filled me with unease. I wasn't afraid of her reaction—I knew Tara wouldn't accuse or judge me—but I feared the sadness it might bring her.

Siya wasn't just a name from my past. She was a reminder of my failures, my inability to connect, and the cruel words she said that had stayed with me .

But Tara deserved my honesty.

That evening, as we sat together in the living room, I turned to her, my resolve hardening.

"Tara," I began, my voice heavier than I intended. "There's something I need to tell you."

She looked up from the book she was reading, her expression open and curious. "What is it?"

I hesitated, searching for the right words. "It's about my past. About someone I was in a relationship with before... before us."

Her brows furrowed slightly, but she didn't interrupt.

"Her name was Siya," I continued, my gaze fixed on the floor. "We were together for a while, but it didn't end well. She... she said things when we broke up. Things that stayed with me."

Tara didn't speak, her silence urging me to go on.

"She said I was incapable of love," I admitted, my voice dropping to a whisper. "That I was cold, emotionless, a hollow shell. And for a long time, I believed her."

When I finally looked up, I saw a flicker of sadness in Tara's eyes. It wasn't anger or judgment—just a quiet sorrow that made my chest tighten.

"I was worried you'd be upset," I said, my voice breaking the silence.

She shook her head slowly. "Veer, before I came into your life, you had a past. That's not a crime. And I know you didn't cheat on me or do anything wrong."

Her words were gentle, but her eyes betrayed a hint of sadness. "I'm not angry. I'm just... sad."

"Sad?" I echoed, confused.

"Sad that it was so easy for her to say those things about you," she said, her voice soft but firm. "You're not incapable of love, Veer. You're just careful with your emotions. And that's not a flaw."

Her words settled over me like a warm blanket, easing some of the weight I had been carrying.

"I haven't been good to you either," I admitted. "Not in the beginning. I didn't know how to be a husband, and I shut you out when I should've been trying to connect."

Tara reached for my hand, her touch grounding me. "It's okay," she said. "Our marriage didn't start in the best way. It was sudden and unexpected, but you've shown courage, Veer. You've shown trust—not just in me, but in us."

Her words made my chest tighten again, but this time it wasn't from pain. It was something else—something warmer.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Siya sooner," I said, squeezing her hand.

She smiled faintly. "Some things take time to share, Veer. And I don't want to know about her if it means you have to relive those painful memories. I trust you."

She tilted her head slightly, her gaze curious. "Let me ask you something. If I told you I had a boyfriend before our marriage, and I told you about him now, would you blame me?"

I didn't hesitate. "No. I'd trust you."

Her smile widened slightly. "Exactly. Just as you trust me, I trust you. Siya is your past, and it's your choice how you want to remember her—as a painful memory, a fleeting attraction, or even just a friend."

Her words humbled me. Tara had an uncanny ability to cut through complexity and make everything feel simpler, more manageable.

"Come with me," she said suddenly, standing and tugging gently on my hand.

I followed her outside, the cool night air brushing against my face. She led me to a section of the garden where roses were planted . Rows and rows of rose bushes stood in neat lines, their blooms vibrant even in the dim light.

"When did they bloomed so beautifully?" I asked, surprised.

"I've been working on it for weeks," she said, a note of pride in her voice. "I wanted these to add something beautiful to the house, something alive and growing."

I stared at the roses, their soft fragrance filling the air. "Why roses?"

"Because they're resilient," she said simply. "Even when they're cut or pruned, they grow back stronger. And they remind me that beauty and strength can exist together."

As I looked at her, standing there amidst the roses she had planted with her own hands, I couldn't hold back the question swirling in my mind.

"Why are you like this?" I asked softly, my voice filled with awe.

She turned to me, puzzled. "Like what?"

"So... addicting. So understanding."

She laughed lightly, the sound soft and musical. "Because it's you, Veer because I know you are always there for me , everything about you is enchanting your eyes , your smile even the thought of you is so enchanting that I often find myself smiling like a fool it's not only you I am also addicted to you."

Her words hit me harder than anything Siya had ever said, but in the best way possible. I hung my head a little to hide the redness spreading from my face to my neck , god Tara needs to stop I have a tough guy persona to maintain but in moments like these I just want to kiss her and snuggle her but for now I have to control

I stepped closer, reaching for her hand. "Tara, I don't deserve you."

"Yes, you do," she said firmly. "We deserve each other. Flaws and all."

And for the first time in years, I felt like I wasn't a hollow shell or an emotionless man. Tara had filled the empty spaces in my life with her understanding, her warmth, and her unwavering belief in us.

As we stood there in the garden, surrounded by the roses she had nurtured, I felt something I hadn't felt in a long time: peace.