Chapter Twelve #2
Tomorrow, she'd figure out what came next. Tomorrow, she'd be strong.
Tonight, she let herself break.
Meanwhile, at the Singhania Estate
Sidharth stood in the middle of their bedroom, surrounded by evidence of Advika's hasty departure. The closet was half-empty. Her side of the bathroom counter was bare. The suitcase he'd thrown across the room lay open, her clothes spilling out like they were trying to escape too.
And her scent—vanilla and something uniquely her—hung in the air like a ghost.
She was gone.
Actually gone.
He'd let her walk out, had stood frozen while she left, unable to form the words that might have made her stay.
Tell me you love me.
The words had been right there, pressing against his teeth, trying to claw their way out. But years of conditioning, years of protecting himself, years of associating love with loss and pain had kept them locked inside.
And now she was gone.
"Fuck!" He swept his arm across the dresser, sending everything crashing to the floor. It didn't help. Nothing helped.
He sank onto the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. The bed still smelled like her. Everything in this room smelled like her. This whole house felt empty without her presence.
A knock on the door. "Bhai?"
"Go away, Nisha."
The door opened anyway. But it wasn't Nisha—it was Rishabh.
"I heard," he said quietly, stepping inside and closing the door. "The whole house heard, actually. You two weren't exactly quiet."
Sidharth said nothing, just stared at his hands.
"So." Rishabh settled into the chair by the window. "Are you really going to let her go?"
"She deserves better than me."
"That's not your choice to make."
"Yes, it is." Sidharth's voice was harsh. "I'm the one who can't give her what she needs. I'm the one who's too fucked up to say three simple words. I'm the reason she's gone."
"Then go after her."
"And say what?" He looked up at his brother, feeling more lost than he had since their parents died. "I can't promise her I'll change. Can't promise I'll suddenly be the man she deserves. Can't even promise I can say the words she needs to hear."
"Bullshit." Rishabh leaned forward, his expression serious. "You love her. We all know it. I know it. Nisha knows it—why do you think she orchestrated that whole thing with Mihika? Because she sees what you refuse to admit."
"Nisha did what?"
"Oh, please. You think Mihika just randomly showed up with the code to your office? Nisha's been trying to sabotage this marriage from day one because she's terrified of losing you to someone else."
Sidharth's hands clenched into fists. "She—"
"Deal with Nisha later. Right now, focus on Advika. On whether you're going to let the best thing that ever happened to you walk away because you're too scared to be vulnerable."
"I'm not scared—"
"Yes, you are." Rishabh's voice was gentle but firm.
"You're terrified. Because loving her means risking the kind of pain you felt when we lost Mom and Dad.
Means opening yourself up to potential betrayal like with Uncle Raghav.
Means being vulnerable in a way you haven't allowed yourself to be in five years. "
The words hit too close to home. Sidharth looked away, his jaw clenched.
"When did it happen?" Rishabh asked quietly. "When did you fall in love with her?"
"I don't—"
"Yes, you do. You know exactly when. So tell me."
Sidharth was quiet for a long moment. Then: "I don't know if there was one moment. It was... gradual. Pieces of her that kept chipping away at my walls."
"Like what?"
"The way she stood up to Nisha that first breakfast. How she refused to be intimidated even though she was scared.
" His voice was rough with emotion. "The way her whole face lights up when she's baking.
The passion she has for creating something beautiful.
The way she's strong enough to handle my world but soft enough to cry about her mother. "
"What else?"
"The way she says my name like it's a prayer.
The way she fits perfectly against me when we sleep.
The way she challenges me, pushes me, refuses to let me hide behind my walls.
" He stood, pacing. "Her wit. Her fire. Her resilience.
The way she survived everything life threw at her and still has the capacity to love, to hope, to believe in something better. "
"You love her," Rishabh said. It wasn't a question.
"I—" The words stuck in his throat, years of conditioning fighting against the truth. "I don't know how to do this. How to be what she needs."
"What does she need?"
"Someone who can be soft. Someone who can say 'I love you' without feeling like they're cutting their own throat.
Someone who doesn't default to possession and control when emotions run high.
" Sidharth's laugh was bitter. "I don't know how to be that person, Rishabh.
I've spent five years being hard. Being closed off.
Being the ruthless bastard everyone expects. "
"Then learn." Rishabh stood, moving to face his brother. "Learn how to be soft for her. Learn how to be vulnerable. Learn how to say the words she needs to hear. Before you lose her permanently."
"What if it's too late?"
"What if it's not?" Rishabh gripped Sidharth's shoulder. "What if she's sitting in her bakery right now, crying, hoping you'll come after her? Hoping you'll finally fight for her the way she's been fighting for you for nine months?"
Sidharth closed his eyes, and suddenly he could see it—Advika curled up somewhere in that bakery, alone and hurting, thinking he didn't love her. Thinking she wasn't enough.
When the truth was she was everything.
Everything he'd been too afraid to claim.
"I love her," he said quietly. The words were easier than he'd expected, once he let himself say them. "God, I love her so much it terrifies me."
"Then go tell her that."
"What if she doesn't believe me? What if I've hurt her too many times?"
"Then you grovel. You beg. You spend every day for the rest of your life proving you mean it." Rishabh's grip tightened. "But you don't give up. Not on her. Not on this."
Sidharth looked at his brother, then at the empty bedroom that felt like a tomb without her in it.
She'd said she loved him. Had been loving him for months while he hid behind his walls and his fears. Had given him everything while he parceled out scraps of affection like they were precious commodities.
And she'd finally had enough.
He couldn't blame her. But he could fight to get her back.
"I need to fix this," he said, his voice stronger now. "I need to make this right."
"Yes, you do."
"But first—" His expression hardened. "I need to deal with my sister."
He found Nisha in her room, already in her nightgown, looking entirely too satisfied with herself.
"Bhai! I heard Advika left. I'm so sorry—"
"Don't." His voice cut through her false sympathy like a blade. "Don't pretend you didn't orchestrate this whole thing."
Her eyes widened. "I don't know what—"
"You let Mihika into my office. Gave her the code. Set up a scene designed to look intimate right when Advika would walk by." He moved closer, and she actually stepped back. "You deliberately sabotaged my marriage."
"I was trying to protect you—"
"From what? Being happy? Being loved?" His voice rose. "She's my wife, Nisha. The woman I love. And you've spent nine months trying to destroy that because you're selfish and scared."
"I'm not—"
"Yes, you are. You're scared that if I love her, I'll love you less.
That you'll lose your place as the most important woman in my life.
But here's the thing—" He leaned in close, his voice deadly quiet.
"You were right. You have lost that place.
Because she's my wife. My partner. The woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. And you need to accept that."
Tears welled in Nisha's eyes. "Bhai, please—"
"I love you. You're my sister, and nothing will change that. But Advika is my wife. And if you can't respect that, if you can't accept her, then maybe you need to find somewhere else to live."
"You can't mean that—"
"I mean every word." He straightened. "Mihika is banned from this house. Permanently. And you're going to apologize to Advika. A real apology, not one of your fake ones. Are we clear?"
Nisha nodded, tears streaming down her face.
"Good." He turned to leave, then paused. "For what it's worth, Advika is good for me. She makes me better. And if you can't see that, if you can't be happy for me, then that's your problem, not mine."
He left her crying and didn't look back.
There would be time to repair his relationship with his sister later. Right now, he had more important things to do.
Like winning back his wife.
Sidharth stood in the bedroom one more time, looking at the evidence of her departure. Tomorrow, he'd go to her. Tomorrow, he'd say all the words he should have said months ago.
Tomorrow, he'd fight for her.
But tonight, alone in their bed, surrounded by her scent, Sidharth Singhania finally admitted to himself what he'd been denying for months:
He was completely, irrevocably, terrifyingly in love with his wife.
And he'd do whatever it took to prove it to her.
Even if it meant tearing down every wall he'd spent five years building.
Even if it meant being vulnerable in ways that scared him more than any enemy ever could.
Even if it meant risking his heart in a way he'd sworn he'd never do again.
She was worth it.
She'd always been worth it.
He'd just been too afraid to see it.
But not anymore.
Tomorrow, he'd make this right.
Tomorrow, he'd bring his wife home.
Tonight, he'd plan exactly how to win back the woman he loved.
And Sidharth Singhania always got what he wanted.
Even when what he wanted was the one thing he'd been pushing away for nine months.
Tomorrow, everything changed.
Tomorrow, he'd fight.
For her. For them. For the future they deserved.
Tomorrow.