Chapter 46 #2
At first, he just glared at me.
Then he stood and pulled me into a tight embrace.
I wrapped my arms around him instinctively. I could feel the tension in his body, the way he held on as if letting go would make this real in a way he couldn’t bear. He had always looked up to me. Always seen me as the one who held things together. And now I could feel how scared he was.
But what he didn’t know… was that I was scared for him too.
Losing our parents had nearly broken him, and now he was facing that loss all over again.
“It’s not fair,” he said, his voice breaking as he pressed his face into my shoulder. “First mum… then dad… and now you.”
I closed my eyes for a moment, holding him a little tighter.
“I know,” I said softly, patting his back in a way that felt painfully familiar. “I’m sorry.”
And for the first time since saying the words out loud… I truly felt the weight of what I was leaving behind.
After everyone left that night, I got into bed and pulled Jiya close, wrapping my arm around her as if I could somehow hold everything together just by keeping her near me. Her body fit against mine so naturally, like it had always belonged there, and I let myself pretend that nothing had changed.
But my thoughts would not rest.
It kept circling back to the same thing.
Her.
Us.
The wedding.
I had been turning it over in my head all evening, even while I smiled, even while I reassured everyone else. I had debated with myself again and again, trying to figure out what the right thing to do was.
And every time, I came to the same conclusion.
It wasn’t fair.
It wasn’t fair to ask her to marry me, knowing what I know now.
When she drifted off to sleep, I got up quietly and walked over to her work table.
The plans for our new house were spread out neatly, her handwriting marking little notes along the edges.
Beside it sat the framed photo from the night I proposed—her smile bright, her eyes shining in a way that had made my chest ache even then.
I picked it up, my thumb brushing over the glass.
And then my gaze shifted to the calendar.
Dates circled.
Appointments written in.
Meetings with vendors.
All the tiny pieces of a future she was building with me.
A future I wasn’t sure I would be there for.
I couldn’t be selfish. I couldn’t ask her to become my wife only to leave her as my widow.
I had lived that life, and I knew what it did to you—the emptiness, the silence, the way everything good in your life became something that hurt to remember.
I wouldn’t do that to her. I couldn’t. It didn’t sit right with me.
When I got back into bed, she stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open as she looked up at me.
“I have two favours to ask you,” I said, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.
“Anything,” she replied softly, her voice still laced with sleep as she searched my eyes.
I hesitated for a second, then continued. “Remember the project I was telling you about?”
She nodded.
“I was wondering whether you would be able to take over and help to complete it.”
Her brows furrowed immediately. “But I don’t know anything about construction or development.”
I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my lips.
“Jiya,” I said, holding her gaze. “If there’s one thing I know about you… it’s how much you love to learn and explore, even if it’s not your forte.” I reached for her hand, squeezing it lightly. “This project means a lot to me. I want to make sure it gets completed.”
Her expression softened. “Then I will make sure it does get completed. I promise.”
She leaned in and kissed me.
I let myself get lost in her, in the warmth, in the familiarity, in the love that felt so real.
“What’s the second favour?” she asked, pulling back slightly.
This was the harder one.
I took a breath.
“I don’t want to leave you as a widow. I don’t think it’s fair to you or the children.”
I saw the protest rising in her eyes before she even spoke, so I lifted my hand and gently pressed a finger to her lips.
“I don’t think we should get married. I don’t think I would survive until then either.”
The silence that followed felt unbearable.
Tears filled her eyes instantly. She pulled away from me and stood up, turning to face me fully, her chest rising and falling with the force of her emotions.
“When you proposed to me,” she said, her voice trembling, “you said you wanted to write and live your happy ending with me.” She wiped her tears quickly. “I accepted your proposal. You’ve made decisions for yourself and how you want to continue your life, and I accepted that.”
She walked to me and then cupped my face, forcing me to look at her.
“But when it comes to us,” she said, her voice breaking slightly, “I’m not going to accept it.”
There was a finality in her voice.
“I still want my happy ending with you,” she said, her eyes locked onto mine. “And I want it as your wife… your widow.”
I felt a painful tightness in my throat.
“I want it whether it is for one day or a hundred days,” she continued. “I want it whether it is for today, tomorrow, or the end of time.” Her thumbs brushed against my cheeks. “I want it with you.”
My defences crumbled piece by piece.
There was no fear in her eyes.
No hesitation.
Just truth and love.
I knew I wasn’t going to win this.
Not against her.
Not against us.
I stood up slowly, closing the distance between us, and leaned in to kiss the tears from her cheeks. “I want it with you too.”