Page 69 of Protect my Heart
She pulls away slightly and stares at me. There’s something in her expression I can’t place. Worry? Shock? Anger?
“What have you guys done?” She whispers more to herself than to me. I frown at her.
I blink, confused. “I don’t know.”
Maa holds me close again, and I let myself melt into her. My heart feels like someone’s squeezing it from the inside. And Maa… Maa’s arms are the only place I can fall apart.
“I just wanted to be with him, Maa,” I mumble into her shoulder. “I didn’t think I’d fall this hard again. Or maybe I never stopped falling.”
She doesn’t say anything.
She just holds me tighter. I close my eyes and breathe; the bhaang is still spinning my thoughts, but some part of me—deep inside—knows I’m not going to remember everything clearly tomorrow. I hope I don't because I think I flirted a lot with Aarav.
CHAPTER 42
AARAV
She’s sitting on the edge of the bed, towel draped over her head as she rubs it against her wet hair, and somehow manages to splash half the water on me in the process. I don’t say anything. I just watch her. Her back is to me, and her bare shoulders peek through the loose neckline of her kurti, still damp from the shower. The scent of jasmine shampoo fills the room, familiar and warm.
Badi Maa’s homemade tonic apparently works miracles. Anika’s no longer slurring her words or trying to dance with the ceiling fan. She’s just… here. Sober. And within arm’s reach. I’ve been trying to find the right time to talk to her, but honestly, every time I look at her, my words curl up and die somewhere in my throat. I never knew I could be so coward.
She flips her hair over her shoulder and finally turns to look at me. “You want to say something?"
Caught in 4k. I scratch the back of my neck, sheepish. “No, why would you say so?”
“Hmm,” she hums, not buying it. Her eyes linger on me for a second longer than necessary, and I see the trace of a smileon her lips. Of course she knows I am lying. She’s beautiful in this state—raw, unfiltered. No walls. No performance.
Come on dude, you are making it too big, just go and talk to her!I stand up abruptly making my way to her. Now or Never. I sit next to her, closer, but not too close. Just enough that she knows I’m here. “Anika,” I start, voice low. “I need to talk to you.”
"Knew it," She raises a brow. “About?”
“Us.” The word hangs heavy in the air. It’s terrifying how just two letters can feel like a goddamn avalanche.
Her posture changes. Just slightly, but I notice. She crosses her arms. Defensive. Guarded. And I don’t blame her.
I inhale deeply, fingers twitching at my sides. “I know I’ve been distant. And I’ve said nothing when I should’ve said everything." She shakes her head and opens her mouth to say something but I don't let her, "That day… when you looked at me after I stayed silent, it gutted me. You looked—hurt. And you had every right to be.”
She doesn’t say anything. Just watches me.
“I didn’t say anything because I was scared,” I admit, voice dropping.
"Of me?" She asks tilting her face in confusion, pointing a finger at herself.
“Not of you, obviously." I chuckle and she glares at me, I raise my hand in surrender, she can be terrifying sometimes. "Of losing you, Anika." I whisper. Her breath hitches and her eyes softens.
"I’ve already lost you once. And now, you’re here, in this house, as my wife—technically—and I still can’t believe it. I didn’t want to push you. I didn’t want to mess this up. This is already so messy." I ramble, "You’ve always been this… impossible dream. And now you’re real and close and I just—” I trail off, frustrated.
She stares at me for a second. Then another. And just as I’m about to prepare myself for another wall to go up, she steps forward, towel slipping from her hair to the floor.
And her lips press on mine. Soft. Sure. Certain. Her lips are warm against mine and her fingers curl into the collar of my shirt. For a second, I forget to breathe. I forget how to do anything except kiss her back. And I do—eagerly, completely, almost desperately. Because this is Anika. Kissing me like she means it.
When she pulls back, she doesn’t step away. Her lips are pink, eyes half-lidded, breath shaky.
“Does this mean,” I tease, “you’ll finally stop ignoring me and give us a real chance?”
She rolls her eyes, the corners of her lips twitching. "We will see about that," She shrugs, winking at me.
I laugh, surprised by how light it feels. We’re laughing. After everything, we’re here, sharing something that isn’t heavy or painful or awkward.
