49
RUDRAKSH
Worry laces over my features as I watch Shivani’s chest heaving up and down with even breaths.
Shivani’s sleeping right now. When I found her, she was having a panic attack.
She was so fazed, I couldn’t reach her. Before I could do anything, she passed out—and I panicked too.
I’ve never dealt with anything like this before.
It was like I was unwired. I immediately called the doctor and told him about the situation.
He told me not to worry, just to take her home and wait for her to regain consciousness.
Now, I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, watching her sleep. Her face looks peaceful, but the heaviness beneath her eyes lingers. I can still see the way she looked earlier—panicked, her breaths ragged like she was drowning. That image... it shook me to my core.
I’ve never seen her like this before. Not even around her parents was she this shaken. Shivani’s always been so strong, so composed. Seeing her like that—so vulnerable, so fragile—it broke my heart. I reach out, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead, my fingers lingering on her skin.
She’d only been away for ten minutes. What could’ve happened in that short time to trigger a panic attack?
I need to know. A sharp breath gets stuck in my throat.
It’s my fault. I let her go; I shouldn’t have.
I should have been there with her. When she made an excuse to go to the washroom, I didn’t stop her.
She’s not a fan of public displays of affection.
Neither am I. But with her, I just can’t help myself.
I thought giving her a moment to cool down was the right thing.
Now, I silently curse myself. I should’ve known better.
Crowds always make her uncomfortable. I should’ve been there.
I should’ve stayed by her side. But instead, I let her go—and now this.
Her chest rises and falls softly, her breathing shallow.
Even in sleep, her face is creased with worry.
It’s killing me to see her like this. I reach out, brushing my thumb across her cheek.
My fingers shake, my touch ghosting over her skin.
Suddenly, her body tenses. “No!” She yells out of nowhere, her face morphing with pain and fear as I move closer. “Please, please leave me alone!” She sobs in her sleep, her words falling heavy against her lips.
My heart clenches. I gently grab her shoulders and shake her slightly. “Shivani,” I call softly, “wake up, love.”
“Wake up, Shivani.” My whisper hushes down her sobs, and her body stills before she wakes up. Her breaths are heavy and sharp as her eyes shoot open, wild and full of terror. She looks around frantically until her gaze lands on me.
“Hey, hey,” I soothe, rubbing my hands up and down her trembling arms. “You’re safe. You’re okay. You’re with me now.” I repeat the words softly, like a mantra, trying to calm her.
Her eyes are still wide, disoriented. She’s gasping like she just ran a marathon. It tears me apart to see her this scared, broken. I lie down beside her and gently pull her into my chest.
“I’ve got you, baby,” I whisper, holding her close. “Shhh... I’m here. I’ve got you.”
I stroke her hair, slow and gentle. Her body’s pressed tight against mine, her head resting on my chest. I can feel her heart pounding. But slowly, her breathing starts to steady. Her gasps turn into shuddering breaths.
“He was there.” Her voice comes out soft. Scared.
My hands freeze around her as my breath stills. “Who was there?” I ask, trying to keep my voice calm.
Her body shudders as she grabs my shirt like a lifeline. “I don’t know his name,” she whispers, her voice trembling.
My chest tightens, and I hold her tighter. “He used to come into my room… when I was ten,” she begins. Her voice breaks.
My mind goes blank. What does that mean? What did he do? Rage simmers beneath the surface, but I force myself to stay calm—for her. Because whatever he did shook her up, and my wife needs me right now.
“What…” I can't even finish the sentence; I am too afraid to know.
She looks up at me; her eyes are full of so much pain it wrecks me. She tries to speak, but all that comes out is a wail. A broken, raw sound that shatters me. “He… he…” She clings to me, her body shaking. I hold her tighter, my hand stroking her hair, trying to anchor her.
“He put it in my mouth, Rudra.” Her words punch the air out of my lungs.
A mix of rage and helplessness floods through me.
I swallow hard, trying to keep it together, but I can't. My heart breaks for the ten-year-old Shivani, for what no child should ever go through, and my wife.
.. I feel an urge to shout at the world for its unfairness.
Shock and rage grip me tighter as my spine steels.
“I’m dirty, Rudra.” She tries to push me away, but I don’t let her. My arms tighten around her.
“No,” I say firmly, my voice laced with both pain and love. “You’re not dirty. None of this is your fault.”
She fights against me, sobbing harder. “You don’t understand. I feel so… filthy.”
I cup her face, gently lifting her gaze to mine.
“Listen to me,” I say quietly, but with conviction.
“What happened to you does not define you.
" I know saying things is easy for me, but if it helps her even one percent, I will take the chance.
"You are strong. You are brave. And you are not to blame.”
Her fight weakens; silent tears run down her cheeks.
She collapses into me, her tears soaking my shirt.
“You didn’t deserve this. You didn’t deserve to be hurt like that.
” My voice shakes as I hug her tighter. Rage blinds me, but this isn't the time for me to let the rage consume me.
Shivani needs me right now. She matters more than my revenge.
“I’ll find him,” I whisper to myself, my promise low and furious. “I’ll end him.”
“Will you still accept me?” She asks, barely audible. Her question cuts deeper than anything else. Fear lingers in her eyes.
I pull her even closer. “How can you even think of that question, baby?" For the first time in a while, tears sting my eyes as I look at my wife's face, her fear: "Nothing—not this, not anything—can change how I feel about you.” I brush a tear from her cheek.
“You’re my wife, Shivani. My other half. What happened to you—it was horrible. But it doesn’t define who you are. It doesn’t define us.” I repeat. I will repeat it till she believes me.
She finally quiets down, her body slumping against me. I hold her, firm yet gentle. Her breathing is still shaky, but her sobs have stopped.
“You’re safe now,” I whisper and press a firm kiss on her forehead. “He can’t hurt you anymore. I won’t let him.”
“Rudra…” she whispers, “he said my father sent him.”
The world falls silent. So, he survived. I gave him a way out once. Easy. Merciful. But now? Now he wants the worst of me?
He’ll get it.
“I want to bathe,” she mumbles. “I want to wash away his touch.”
“Okay, darling,” I whisper, kissing her hair. Quietly, I get up and carry her to the bathroom.
“If you need anything, I’ll be right outside, okay?” I tell her as I set her down on the granite slab around.
She doesn’t move; her eyes zero in at one point. It feels like she is there, but at the same time she isn't. It feels like she is slipping through my fingers. “Can you please stay here?”
I nod and turn on the shower, adjusting the water so it’s warm—not too hot. Steam fills the space, wrapping around us like a cocoon. I undress her carefully, my hands slow and respectful. I step in with her after I take off my clothes, the water cascading over our bodies.
I reach for the soap, working it into a lather, then slowly glide my hands over her skin.
“You’re safe now, Shivani,” I whisper against her ear. “I’m here. I’ll always be here.” She leans into my touch, eyes closed, silent. I clean every inch of her, my hands reverent and tender.
“You’re everything to me,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I won’t let anything hurt you again.” Her breathing evens out. She looks up at me, eyes still holding fear but also trust.
“I love you, Rudra,” she whispers, her voice cracking.
“I know,” I reply, my voice thick with emotion. “You’re my world, Shivani.” I turn off the water for a moment, soap up my own hands, and then rinse us both off.
She reaches for me, her fingers in my hair, pulling me down to her. “I need you,” she breathes against my lips.
I lift her up, her legs wrapping around my waist as I press her gently against the tiled wall. Water streams down, warm and comforting. I kiss her deeply as heat surrounds us.
“I’ll be gentle,” I whisper, pressing soft kisses along her jaw.
My hands move over her body with care, worshipping every curve.
“You’re beautiful,” I whisper into her hair. “So beautiful.” As I slide into her, I hold her gaze, letting her see every ounce of love I carry for her.
“This is my home,” I murmur, burying myself slowly inside her.
She gasps, her fingers digging into my shoulders. I hold still, letting her adjust. Then I move—slow and gentle. She moans softly, her hips meeting mine. I can feel her trembling, feel her start to relax in my arms, surrendering to the safety between us.
Her body tightens around me as she peaks, but I keep going, drawing out the moment, giving her everything. Her moans rise, urgent and raw, and I feel her nearing the edge again.
Just before she falls apart, I slow down, wanting to give her more.
I want her to know she’s mine. That I’d burn the whole world for her if I had to.
When we reach the edge together, she cries out, her body arching into mine.
I hold her close, burying my face in her neck, whispering every vow I carry in my bones.
We collapse together, tangled in each other beneath the stream of warm water. I kiss her hair with gentleness, with warmth.
“You’re my world, Shivani,” I whisper again. “ You will always be.”