CHAPTER 29! RUN TO ME #3
Aryav was standing outside on the balcony, his back to her.
A single plume of gray smoke drifted over his shoulder from the cigarette between his fingers.
Aadhira stared at his broad silhouette, her mind spinning.
In haathon ne...
Nahi.
Bilkul nahi
Sochna bhi mat aadhira.
He had never looked farther away.
He was only a few steps from her, yet the distance felt impossible to cross.
Aadhira stepped out onto the balcony, the cool night air hitting her face.
"Aryav..." her throat burned so badly it felt as though she had swallowed glass. Every breath scraped on the way out.
She wanted to explain accessibility, but every reason sounded smaller than the blood drying across his knuckles.
"I'm sorry. Please. I was just... I was so scared."
Aryav didn't turn around.
He took another slow drag of his cigarette, his voice flat, low, and terrifyingly controlled.
"You've cried enough for one night.
Go inside and sleep."
She didn't.
Aryav...
So without turning he said
"Sleep aadhira."
"I didn't know what to do," she confessed, her voice breaking completely as she stepped closer. "I thought if you found out-"
"You thought what?" Aryav finally turned. The movement was slow, deliberate.
"You knew I'd be angry."
Pause.
"And you still chose not to trust me."
Aadhira's heart squeezed painfully against her ribs.
Kuch toh boliye...
Daant lijiye.
Chilla lijiye.
Bas chup mat rahiye.
The terrifyingly quiet admission left his expression completely unreadable.
As he brought the cigarette to his lips, the moonlight caught his right hand.
Her breath hitched.
His knuckles were raw, split, and completely caked in dried blood.
Terrified, she reached out on instinct to grip his wrist, her hands shaking. "Stop. You're bleeding."
Aryav didn't flinch, but he removed his hand from hers with quiet precision.
Not rough. Not impatient.
Somehow, that absolute rejection hurt even more.
"Blood washes off," he said, his voice flat, almost bored. His gaze lifted, pinning her against the shadows of the terrace.
"What almost happened tonight doesn't."
He took a step closer, his massive frame completely engulfing her, blocking out the light.
"Eight years," he murmured, a soft, dangerous laugh escaping him-a sound that sent a cold shiver straight down her spine.
"For eight years, that man woke up every single morning believing he would die an old man.
That is what I am angry about."
"He had videos," she whispered, her fingers twisting desperately into her clothes. "He was blackmailing me."
"I know." His voice remained calm.
"But I thought... you'd at least tell someone. Me. Shourya. Anyone."
He looked at her for a long moment.
"You didn't."
Aryav's mouth curved without a hint of warmth.
"Then-"
"A man looked at my wife," Aryav cut her off, his eyes dark and bottomless, "and believed she was something he could bargain for."
"I was trying to protect everyone!" she argued desperately, tears streaming down her face as she forced herself to stand straight despite her shaking knees.
"I didn't want Dadi, Mom, you , bhai anyone dragged into this!"
Silence.
A long, suffocating silence stretched between them.
The only sound was the distant hum of the city below.
Then-
"Do you know what protecting me looks like?" Aryav asked quietly.
Another pause.
"Trusting me."
Aadhira let out a shaky breath, entirely defenseless under his absolute authority.
"Don't mistake disobedience for bravery, Aadhira. You looked at a problem, and you decided to solve it yourself," he noted, his gaze shifting dryly toward the distant city lights.
"You don't get to decide when I lose what's mine."
"I was scared!" she finally broke completely, wiping at her tears angrily because she hated feeling this weak.
Aryav flicked the ash from his cigarette over the balcony railing, then deliberately crushed the remaining ember beneath his shoe.
"Fear is useful," he said, his voice dropping an octave as he locked eyes with her.
"It teaches people where to run."
Then
"You ran the wrong way."
"The problem is that you were scared of the wrong person."
He stepped even closer, his jaw tightening.
He didn't look at her tears or her trembling hands.
His focus was singular, calculating.
"Next time you're terrified, Aadhira...
run to me.
Not from me."
He reached out, his bloody fingers lightly catching her chin-not hard, but with an unyielding grip that forced her to look at him.
"Do you know what would've happened if I had been ten minutes late? I've spent the last one hours calculating how many hospitals are near that club.
"When he locked that door..."
Pause.
"Did you really believe I wouldn't come?"
She opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Because somewhere between the crippling fear, the crushing guilt, and the overwhelming relief, she realized she had never doubted he would come.
She had only doubted whether she still deserved to be saved.
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