CHAPTER LXVI
A tale whispered by a wandering moth,
Of a love so deep it burned through fate itself,
A passion even death could not restrain—
There was once a madman… a lover so mad.
It had been a full week since we had been staying at my sister's house, and now, at last, we were preparing to return to London. The car's soft hum filled the silence between us, a silence heavy with everything that had happened and everything still left unsaid.
During our stay, my family had called us over. Their tone was careful, their words measured. They apologized to Sita—my beautiful, gentle Sita—for how her very first experience in her in-laws' home had been far from kind. My mother, proud yet aching beneath her sternness, had invited Sita to come again. She spoke to her with a warmth that I wished, with all my heart, had been extended to me too. But she did not speak to me. Not a word, not a glance, not even a fleeting moment of softness.
And yet, this time, her silence did not tear me apart. I felt the familiar sting, yes, but it no longer broke me the way it once would have. Somewhere deep in my heart, I carried hope like a small, flickering flame—that someday, she would forgive me. That someday, she would see not just my mistakes but my love, and welcome me back into her heart.
As the car glided down the quiet road, I turned to look at Sita. She sat beside me, bathed in pale morning light, her delicate hands resting in her lap, her eyes lost in thought as she watched the scenery blur past the window. A soft sigh escaped her lips, one that tugged at something deep within me.
I reached for her hand almost instinctively, my fingers brushing against hers. She looked at me, startled for a heartbeat, but her gaze softened almost immediately. She didn't pull away; instead, her hand settled into mine, warm and steady.
"Are you okay?" I whispered, my voice barely audible over the sound of the road.
She gave me a faint smile, one that held a thousand unspoken words. "I'm fine," she said softly. "Are you?"
I swallowed hard, her question cutting deeper than I expected. No one had asked me that in so long, not like this—not with genuine care. "I… I am now," I murmured, my thumb gently tracing circles on her hand.
Sita's eyes softened even more, and for a brief moment, she leaned her head against my shoulder. The world outside the window rushed by, a blur of color and motion, but in that moment, everything slowed. The air felt warmer, safer, as if just her touch had built a shelter around my heart.
I turned my head slightly, breathing in the faint scent of her hair, the soft warmth of her resting so close to me. A storm of emotions swirled inside me—love, fear, longing, hope—all tangled together like threads of an unfinished tapestry.
As I looked at her, I couldn't help but think of that old poem, the one about the moth and the flame. That was us. I was the moth, forever drawn to her light, willing to burn, to break, to defy the world itself if it meant I could stay by her side.
The car carried us forward, away from my family's home and all its shadows, and toward London—toward a future unknown but ours to shape. Sita's hand in mine felt like an anchor, a promise that no matter how heavy the storms ahead, we would weather them together.
My brother drove us to the airport that morning, his quiet presence a bittersweet reminder of home. He didn't say much—just gave me a warm smile and a reassuring nod as he helped us with our luggage. Sita hugged him goodbye, her gentle "thank you" lingering in the crisp air as we stepped into the terminal. I turned back once before we disappeared inside, catching the way he lifted his hand in a silent wave. That small gesture stayed with me all the way through security, echoing like a thread tying me back to family.
The flight to London was long, but for me, there was no peace in the steady hum of the engines or the soft murmur of passengers around us. My mind was a restless storm. No matter how many times I closed my eyes, a single thought refused to leave me: What if Kanika has found Rama? What if she's discovered where I live?
Every scenario played out like a nightmare in my head—Kanika standing outside my apartment door, Rama's name dripping from her lips like poison, Sita's face breaking into shock as secrets I'd buried clawed their way to the surface. My chest tightened just imagining it. I glanced sideways at Sita, who had fallen asleep with her head gently resting against my shoulder, her face serene, unaware of the turmoil inside me.
In that moment, I made a silent vow. I have to make her fall in love with me. Not just care for me, not just stay by my side, but truly love me. I need her heart to choose me before anyone else can try to take her away.
The determination burned quietly in my chest, pushing against the fear. I reached over to gently adjust the blanket around her shoulders, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. She didn't stir, and I allowed myself a rare, tender smile before leaning my head against hers, closing my eyes to the rhythmic hum of the aircraft.
When the plane touched down in London, the familiar scent of rain-soaked air and city lights greeted us. Waiting just beyond the crowd of travelers were Sasha and Mia, their smiles bright and warm, instantly making me feel a little lighter. Sasha waved enthusiastically, pulling me into a hug the moment we reached them.
"Welcome back!" she said, her voice carrying that cheerful energy I'd missed. Then her gaze shifted to Sita, softening into a warm smile. "Vedu, I forgot to tell you over the phone… we had to move your apartment."
I blinked, momentarily thrown off. "Move my apartment?"
Sasha nodded quickly, glancing at Sita as if to make sure she was following. "Yeah… there was a short circuit at your old place. It caused a small fire, so Mia and I went ahead and shifted all your things into a new apartment. Don't worry, everything's safe now. We're all heading there right after this."
I nodded silently, trying to process her words. Outwardly, Sasha's voice was calm and reassuring, but the way she glanced at me briefly—just for a second, like a silent signal—made me tense.
She had said "new house" for Sita's sake, but I knew better. This wasn't a new home. It was an old one. Familiar. A place tied to memories I wasn't sure I wanted to relive.
I squeezed Sita's hand as we followed Sasha and Mia through the bustling airport, the weight of secrets pressing down on me once again. The air outside was crisp, London's gray sky draped over us like a heavy blanket, but having Sita by my side gave me a fragile sense of courage. No matter what shadows waited for us in that "new" home, I was determined to protect her, to make her heart mine before those shadows could take her away.
To be continue....