Chapter 21
Meera
Nine damn days of being caged inside this house because my so-called husband decided he knows what’s best for me. And I swear, I would’ve fought him every second of it… if he hadn’t ruined my anger by actually caring.
God, I hate this. I hate how his care twists everything I feel, everything he makes me feel. But I can’t keep drowning in this mess of emotions. I won’t.
I pace the bedroom, my fingers brushing the bare skin of my wrist where the bandage came off this morning. I am fine now. There’s no reason for him to babysit me anymore.
Tomorrow, I am putting the distance back where it belongs. Between him and the parts of me he should never be able to reach.
A knock at the door breaks my thoughts. I turn to see the house help standing there, a small green ceramic cup of tea balanced on a tray, one that I’d asked for. I give her a nod as she steps inside, and my gaze shifts to the wall clock. It’s past midnight.
Where is Dev? Why isn’t he back yet? A strange heaviness spreads in my chest.
“Ma’am, your green tea,” she says softly, placing the tray on the bedside table.
“Thank you.”
She turns to leave, but the tightness in my chest forces the words out. “Is Dev home?”
She glances back and nods. “Yes, ma’am. Sir returned an hour ago and has been in the bar room since then. He instructed that no one disturb him.”
I tip my head in silent dismissal as she leaves.
The jerk didn’t even tell me he was home. Instead, he’s in the bar room getting drunk, and I am here, worrying about him like the idiot I apparently am.
Gosh. His hot-and-cold attitude is driving me insane. One moment, he’s this caring, possessive, award-winning husband, and the next, he turns into the arrogant jerk who knows exactly how to annoy and hurt people.
But I am so done with him.
My irritation gets the better of me, and before I know it, I am making my way towards the bar.
I push the door open without knocking, and dim yellow light greets me. My gaze sweeps the room until it falls on Dev, slumped in the recliner at the centre. His eyes are closed, his head tipped back towards the ceiling, completely still.
Panic rises in my chest. Something is wrong.
“Dev…” I step in quietly.
His head jerks towards me, as if he hadn’t heard me enter. But what steals my breath is the sadness etched across his features—a look I’ve never seen on him before.
Yes. Something is definitely wrong.
“You should be sleeping,” he murmurs, running a hand over his face as he straightens in the chair.
“You’re awake as well,” I say softly.
“Can’t sleep, and I doubt I’ll be able to,” he admits wearily.
I step closer, unsure whether he wants me here. “Why?”
He lets out a heavy, shaky breath. “I lost my mother on this day.”
My heart lurches, and my feet freeze in place. “Dev…”
He meets my gaze. “She’d been sick for years with cancer.
But she was strong. So strong. She fought it till the very end, always with a smile.
” He shakes his head, swallowing hard. “Even while she was fighting it, she never let go of her responsibilities. As much as she could, she took care of everything—Dad, Veer, me.” A faint, broken smile crosses his face.
“She used to sit with me for hours. Teaching me the smallest things—how to tie a tie the right way, how to finish my chores properly. It was like she knew. Like she was quietly preparing me for life… for how to survive once she was gone.”
I slowly kneel beside him and place my hands gently on his thighs.
“She taught me how to survive without her, but she never taught me how to deal with what I felt inside.” He closes his eyes, a shudder running through him.
“After she was gone, I tried to hold on to even a fraction of her kindness and values, hoping it might keep me from falling apart. But her absence just kept swelling inside me, filling every corner, numbing every emotion.” His jaw tightens.
“Dad tried. He really did. He tried to fill that void for Veer and me, but it was never enough. Not when he was drowning in guilt, blaming himself for not having enough money to give Mom the treatment that could have saved her. And that guilt… it consumed him. It drove him to chase money any way he could, even if it meant crossing lines, bending rules, and doing things that weren’t clean.
All just to make sure we’d never be powerless and at the mercy of something we couldn’t afford to fight. ”
His breath catches, jagged and uneven. “Since then, Dad transformed from a simple chartered accountant into something else entirely—a ruthless businessman. What started as bending the rules to survive soon crossed a line, turning into choices that were outright illegal. But by then, Dad was too shut off to care about righteousness or morality. It didn’t matter to him anymore.
In a twisted way, he found comfort in the climb.
In power, in control, in affording every damn thing money could buy.
In fact, he even taught Veer and me to shut people out, to shut our feelings out.
Because feelings were dangerous. A sign of weakness. Always too much to handle.”
He falls silent for a moment, then continues, “And I’ve lived with it ever since.
Every day, I feel pieces of Mom’s kindness slipping further away from me, replaced by an uglier, colder version of myself.
” A bitter, broken laugh escapes him, hollow in the silence.
“God… if she could see me now… she’d be crushed. She’d hate the devil I’ve become.”
“Dev… you’re not a devil.” I take a shaky breath, swallowing the lump in my throat.
I understand now. Really understand why he is the way he is.
He isn’t a bad man, not at his core. But losing his mom broke something vital in him.
Something that was never put back together again.
God, I can’t even imagine how hard it must have been to lose his mother so young.
And it’s even harder when the one parent who’s supposed to fill that gap is too lost in his own grief to hold you, to soften the fall.
When, instead of comfort, he himself teaches you how to harden yourself to the world and how to survive without letting yourself feel too much.
I look into his eyes and say quietly, “You’re just a man who’s been hurting. A man who never had the chance to heal.”
He stares at me as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing. Another ragged breath escapes him as he admits hoarsely, “I miss her. I miss her every damn day. But today…” He shakes his head, his voice breaking. “Today, it kills me.”
My hand moves before I can stop it and cups his cheek. “I… I am so sorry, Dev. I can’t imagine how hard it must be, how much it must hurt. I wish I could take some of the pain away.”
“I am not telling you this so you’ll feel sorry for me,” he says, his voice cracking at the edges. “I am telling you because… with you… I want you to know all of me. Even the parts I don’t show anyone else. Even the things that tear me apart.”
My throat tightens as he continues.
“I know you hate me. I know you think I am not a good man. And you’re right about that. I hurt people. I make decisions that aren’t always right. I intimidate. I control. And I’ve done things to you…” His voice fades. “You have every reason to hate me.”
I open my mouth, but he shakes his head, stopping me.
“But even with all my flaws, even with a mind that’s always a mess… there’s a part of me that still has emotions… that still feels. A part I almost lost after Mom. And I found it again when I met you. The part that loves you, Meera.”
My heart skips a beat. I don’t know if it’s from hearing my name on his lips for the first time, or from the weight of his confession, but it’s all too much.
My hands fall away from his face as he lifts his hands and cups mine.
“I love you more than anything,” he whispers.
“More than I’ll ever be able to put into words. ”
Why does his confession twist something so deep in my heart? It should be simple to tell him I feel nothing…to shut this down. But I can’t. The words die somewhere between my throat and my lips, leaving me helpless as I stare at him.
“You’re the first girl I’ve ever fallen in love with.
The first girl who hated me. The first girl who wasn’t impressed by me, who didn’t care about who I was or what I had.
” His fingers brush my cheek reverently, his touch burning through me.
“You’re so pure,” he murmurs. “Not selfish. Not manipulative. Not like the world I deal with. That’s what drew me to you.
And believe me… from the moment my eyes landed on you, you took over every corner of my mind.
You consumed my thoughts. There was no space for anyone else. There still isn’t.”
“Dev…” I breathe, too shaken to finish the sentence.
He lowers his forehead to mine, his breath mingling with my own.
“I want you to feel what I feel for you. I want to ignite the same desire in your heart that burns in mine.” He inhales, straightening just enough to look into my eyes, and takes my hand in his.
“And I will, Meera… no matter how many times you try to push me away.” His thumb grazes my knuckles, sending a shiver up my arm.
“I am not backing down. Not when it comes to you.”
The rush of adrenaline leaves me tongue-tied and utterly helpless. I have no idea what I am supposed to say. But thankfully, he changes the subject before I even have to try.
“We keep a pooja for Mom every year,” he says, standing and helping me up. “I need to be up early for it, so let’s go to bed.” He leads me out of the bar.
The moment we step inside the bedroom, I immediately pull my hand from his and move to the couch.
I need distance… space… anything to keep these overwhelming emotions from taking over before I do something unbelievably stupid, like confess I feel the same pull…
or, God forbid, kiss him and let that be my answer.