CUT
I walked toward the door as the knock echoed again, louder this time, and I rolled my eyes in irritation, already annoyed at whoever decided to disturb my peace.
“You better not throw that wet towel on the bed again, or I’ll throw you out,” he shouted from inside his room.
I scoffed immediately.
“You’re not strong enough to carry me,” I shot back, clicking my tongue as I reached for the handle.
And the moment I opened the door—
I froze.
My brother.
“What the—” I bit down on my words mid-way, swallowing the rest as my eyes dropped to the little girl standing there.
Zara.
Her wide, curious eyes blinked up at me, and just like that, my expression changed completely.
“Oh my little pumpkin… how are you, queen?” I said instantly, my voice softening as I bent down and lifted her into my arms, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek as she giggled softly.
“Mr. Justice Saviour, your brother-in-law is here!” I shouted loudly, dragging the words with unnecessary drama as I stepped aside to let him in.
My brother just glared at me.
I just smiled sweetly in return.
From inside, I heard movement, and within seconds, Adithya walked out of the room, his steps slowing the moment his eyes landed on my brother.
Silence fell instantly.
Neither of them said a word.
Not even a greeting.
Just… staring.
Two people who had a history neither of them wanted to bring up— but neither could ignore either.
I shifted Zara slightly in my arms, my eyes flicking between the two of them.
“Okay fine, no violence,” I said quickly, breaking the thick silence before it could turn into something worse.
Vihaan finally shifted his gaze away and looked at me instead, his expression softening almost instantly as he reached out and patted my head with familiar care.
“How are you?” he asked.
“Super fine,” I replied without missing a beat. “My husband is taking very good care of me.”
I grinned shamelessly, turning my head just enough to look at him, knowing very well that he was probably glaring at me—and yes, he was—his eyes practically burning holes through me.
Ignoring that, I turned back to Vihaan and snatched the paper bag from his hand, my curiosity instantly taking over as I peeked inside.
My favourite snacks.
Of course.
I didn’t even bother hiding my excitement as I pulled out a chocolate and popped it into my mouth immediately, completely at ease, like nothing around me was tense.
But from the corner of my eyes—
I could see it.
The way both of them looked at each other.
Not openly.
Not directly.
But enough.
Enough to know that if I wasn’t here…
This would have already turned into something ugly.
I slapped Vihaan lightly on the shoulder, pulling him out of whatever silent battle he was having, and handed my phone to Zara before dragging him outside.
The air hit my face the moment we stepped out, cooler, quieter, a sharp contrast to the suffocating tension inside.
“How’s life treating you?” I asked casually.
“Terrible,” he muttered.
I let out a dry chuckle.
“Has our life ever been good?” I said.
He smirked faintly. “The first mistake we made was being born into this family.”
I nodded slowly, exhaling, because that wasn’t even something I could argue with.
“Why are you suddenly here?” I asked after a moment.
“Thought I’d see you,” he said simply. “And Zara insisted. She’s on holidays.”
That made me smile a little.
“How’s your shoulder?” he asked, his tone turning slightly serious.
“Completely fine,” I said, pulling my shirt down slightly to show him the faint scar that had replaced the wound.
He examined it briefly and nodded.
“Seems like you’ve gotten along with him,” he said, glancing inside.
I followed his gaze instinctively.
Inside, Adithya was sitting beside Zara, slightly leaned toward her, patiently showing her how to play a game on my phone, his expression calm, focused—so different from the guarded person he usually was.
A small smile formed on my lips before I could stop it.
“We became friends,” I muttered.
“Good,” Vihaan said.
Then his tone changed.
“Don’t let it become anything more.”
My smile faded a little.
I looked at him.
“What do you mean?” I asked, though a part of me already understood.
He didn’t hesitate.
“You don’t believe in love. You don’t trust people. And most importantly—you’re not staying here forever,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “Don’t start something you won’t be able to finish.”
His words settled heavily.
“You mean… I’ll fall in love with him?” I asked, letting out a small, nervous laugh as if the very idea was ridiculous, something too far-fetched to even consider.
“No way,” I added quickly, almost immediately, shaking my head as if I could dismiss the thought before it settled anywhere inside me.
He didn’t laugh.
Instead, he just looked at me—calm, observant, like he was seeing something I wasn’t ready to admit.
“I know he’s treating you well,” he said slowly, choosing his words carefully, “and I also think he’s just being kind… but don’t mistake that.”
His voice softened slightly.
“You’ve never really experienced this kind of care before… so I don’t want you to misunderstand his kindness for something more.”
That made my chest tighten.
“You’re overthinking,” I said, brushing it off, crossing my arms as I leaned back slightly. “We just fight, argue, irritate each other… that’s not love.”
But even as I said it—
My mind betrayed me.
Him holding my wrist in the crowd.
Him peeling fruits quietly.
Him noticing when I fainted.
I blinked quickly, pushing those thoughts away.
“No,” I repeated, more to myself this time than to him. “That’s not happening.”
I glanced inside again.
He was still sitting there beside Zara, that small, unguarded smile on his lips that he never showed anyone else.
My heart stumbled.
Fast. Sudden. Unsteady.
I looked away immediately, biting my lower lip as if that would somehow stop whatever was happening inside me.
Beside me, Vihaan noticed.
He let out a quiet breath and shook his head.
“It’s wrong,” he said, his voice low but firm. “Don’t get feelings for him.”
I slapped his shoulder lightly, more out of reflex than anger.
“I won’t,” I said quickly. “I will not get feelings for him. Never.”
“Always remember why you’re here,” he continued, his tone turning serious, almost warning. “You’re doing this for a reason. Don’t cross your boundaries.”
I clicked my tongue in irritation, folding my arms as I turned to him.
“Why are you so concerned about this?” I asked. “I already said I won’t fall in love with him… but even if I do, what’s wrong in that?”
The moment the words left my mouth—
His expression changed.
“Did you forget what we did to withdraw his case?” he asked.
And just like that—
Everything inside me dropped.
Guilt crept in quietly, wrapping around my chest like something I couldn’t push away no matter how hard I tried.
I looked down, biting the inside of my cheek, unable to meet his eyes anymore.
“It’s already a big thing that he’s still treating you well after everything we did,” he continued, his voice calm but brutally honest. “So at least respect that. Once our purpose is over, you divorce him.”
Each word landed harder than the last.
“We’ll compensate him,” he added, like it was just another business deal. “Give him enough money. End it properly.”
I nodded slowly.
Not because I agreed.
But because I didn’t know what else to do.
“I don’t see that same confidence in your face now… the one you had when you married him,” he said after a pause. “Are you confused?”
“I’m not,” I said finally, lifting my gaze again, forcing a small, careless expression back onto my face. “Nothing has changed.”
We spoke for a few more minutes, letting the heaviness of earlier conversations settle into something lighter, something almost normal, and after spending a little more time with Zara—laughing, teasing, and holding onto those small, fleeting moments—they finally decided to leave.
I walked them to the car, holding her close in my arms, not really wanting to let go just yet.
I pressed a soft kiss against her cheek.
“My little queen… if he bothers you, just tell me, okay?” I said, narrowing my eyes playfully at my brother as I pointed at him.
She giggled, her tiny fingers clutching my dress, but then her eyes shifted past me, lighting up as she waved excitedly at something behind me.
I turned instinctively—
And saw him.
Standing a few steps away, one hand casually lifted as he waved back at her, a small, gentle smile resting on his face.
Something about that sight—
So simple, so ordinary—
Made my lips curve into a faint smile without me realizing it.
I turned back.
Only to meet my brother’s glare.
Sharp. Knowing.
“Remember what I said,” he muttered under his breath.
I didn’t respond.
Because I knew exactly what he meant.
He took Zara from my arms and settled her carefully into the car, making sure she was comfortable before closing the door, and then he turned back to me.
This time—
There was no warning.
No teasing.
He just pulled me into a tight hug.
Strong. Protective. Familiar.
“Take care, okay?” he murmured.
I closed my eyes for a second, breathing in that rare sense of comfort, the kind that felt like home, like safety—like everything I had lost and everything I was still holding onto.
This one man is my dad, my mom and my everything.
The one person who hid his own wounds just to make sure mine didn’t bleed.
I nodded quietly against him.
He pulled away after a moment, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead before stepping back, and I gave him a small wave as he got into the car.
As it drove away, I stood there for a few seconds longer, watching it disappear down the road, my hand still slightly raised in the air.
Then slowly—
I turned and walked back inside.
The house felt quieter now.
Too quiet.
I sat down on the bed, my fingers resting loosely on my lap as my thoughts began to swirl, one after another, refusing to settle.
His words.
My brother’s warning.
That smile.
That moment.
Everything tangled together in a way I couldn’t separate anymore.
He walked into the room quietly and held an apple out to me, like it was some kind of order I was expected to follow without question.
I looked at it for a moment, then slowly lifted my gaze to him.
“I don’t like apples with their skin,” I said, my tone flat as I turned away, sinking back into the chaos of my own thoughts.
He didn’t argue.
He didn’t even respond.
He just… left.
And the silence returned.
Vihaan’s words kept replaying in my mind, over and over again, refusing to leave me alone.
He was right.
Everything he said made sense.
Every single ingle word.
So then why—
Why did it make me feel angry?
Why did it feel like something inside me was being pushed, questioned, exposed in a way I didn’t like?
I couldn’t even find a proper argument to defend myself.
Adithya walked inside again but with a knife in his hands as he slowly and carefully peeled the skin of the apple.
What is wrong with this man?
I am already struggling with my thoughts, barely holding myself together, and here he is—doing all this—just because a doctor told him I am malnourished?
Something inside me snapped.
“Why are you doing all this?” I raised my voice suddenly, the sharpness in it cutting through the quiet room.
He flinched.
Startled.
And in that small, careless second—
The knife slipped.
A sharp cut across his finger.
My heart dropped instantly.
He hissed in pain, pulling his hand back slightly as a thin line of blood appeared.
“Idiot!” I rushed toward him without thinking, grabbing his hand before he could even react properly, my fingers tightening around his wrist as panic surged through me.
“Can’t you even be careful?” I snapped, my voice trembling despite the anger, my eyes fixed on the cut as the blood slowly gathered.
I dragged him toward the sink, turning on the tap and placing his finger under the water, my movements quick, almost frantic.
“Viyana…” he called softly.
I turned.
His gaze was already on me—steady, searching, too close for comfort even though he hadn’t taken a single step.
“It’s just a small cut,” he said gently, as if he was trying to calm me down instead of himself. “Why are you panicking?”
My hands stilled.
The sound of the running water suddenly felt too loud in my ears, too sharp, like it was echoing something I didn’t want to hear.
I quickly turned off the tap.
The silence that followed was worse.
I let go of his hand almost immediately, like it burned me, like holding onto it any longer would reveal something I wasn’t ready to face.
Without saying a word, I walked away, straight to the room and sat down on the bed, my breaths uneven, my chest rising and falling too fast, too heavy, as my fingers clenched into the fabric beneath me.
My vision blurred.
Tears gathered before I could stop them, burning behind my eyes, threatening to fall.
Why…
Why did I react like that?
It was just a cut.
A small one.
Nothing serious.
I pressed my palm against my forehead, squeezing my eyes shut as if I could push everything away.
The image of blood.
The way he flinched.
The way my heart dropped.
My breathing grew heavier.
Unstable.
Because this wasn’t just about the cut.
It was something else.