39. LEAN ON ME
DIYA
I sit on the edge of our bed with my face buried in my hands.
Today has been a disaster.
An administrative crisis hit the NGO first thing this morning. A corrupt land inspector suddenly questions the lease for our building and threatens to shut down our operations by Monday unless impossible conditions are met.
I've spent the entire day buried in legal notices, government files, and endless phone calls.
I'm exhausted.
For the first time in four years, I genuinely don't know what to do.
The sound of the bedroom doors opening barely registers.
Veeraj walks inside, his sleeves folded up, he steps into the room after what is probably another long day of meetings. Normally, just looking at him calms me down. Or ignite me.
Today, I feel restless. Something inside me finally snaps.
I shoot up from the bed and start talking before he even gets a chance to say hello.
"No wonder I can't think properly in this palace!
" I throw my hands into the air. "Everything here is so serious and suffocating.
Ever since I came here, all I've done is deal with royal rules, meetings, and paperwork.
I swear this place is making me lose my mind! "
I pace across the room while the words pour out of me. "And everyone keeps expecting me to know what to do! I am trying, Veeraj! I really am trying, but nothing is working!"
He doesn't interrupt. He doesn't defend himself. He simply stands near the door and lets me finish.
Only after I've completely run out of words and breath does he walk toward me. Slowly. "What is it, Diya?" he asks quietly. His voice is calm. The same voice that somehow manages to slow my heartbeat every single time.
"What happened?" The kindness in those three words breaks something inside me.
All the anger disappears so suddenly it almost makes me dizzy. My eyes burn. Before I can stop myself, tears spill down my cheeks. "I'm sorry," I whisper, covering my face with both hands.
Then the whisper turns into a sob. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have shouted at you. I shouldn't have taken it out on you."
I barely finish speaking before his arms wrap around me.
He pulls me against his chest so naturally that it feels like he's done it a hundred times before.
One hand settles against the back of my head as he gently tucks my face into the crook of his neck.
His familiar woodsy cologne surrounds me, and somehow the room already feels safer.
"You can yell at me whenever you need to," he murmurs into my hair. His voice is soft enough that I almost don't hear it. "But don't apologize for feeling overwhelmed." He pauses before adding with the smallest hint of amusement, "Besides . . . you're strangely adorable when you're angry."
A watery laugh escapes me before I can stop it. I lightly smack his chest. "You are impossible."
"I've been told."
I feel him laugh quietly. The vibration travels through his chest into my cheek, making another tiny smile appear despite everything.
After a minute, he gently holds my shoulders and eases me back just enough to look at my face. "Now tell me. What happened?"
I quickly shake my head. "It's nothing." The lie leaves my mouth automatically.
I look at the buttons on his shirt instead of meeting his eyes. If I tell him . . . Then I'm making him responsible for my problems too. And I never want him to feel trapped by my life.
His eyebrows pull together immediately.
He brushes away a tear with his thumb. "Are you telling me the truth?" I stay quiet. "Or," he continues calmly, "should I ask my office to find out what's happening at the NGO before the hour is over?"
My head snaps up. "You wouldn't."
"I absolutely would." His answer comes without even a second of hesitation.
Then he leans down and kisses my forehead. "I meant what I said before," he murmurs. "I don't like seeing you suffer. So please . . . " His forehead rests against mine. "Talk to me."
I close my eyes. There really isn't any point hiding it anymore. I let out a long breath. "The building lease is under attack."
His expression changes immediately.
"A local land inspector is trying to create problems. If he succeeds, the NGO could lose the property." I force out a small smile. "But it's okay. I'll figure something out."
"I just need a little time." His hands tighten slightly around my shoulders.
"And why," he asks gently, "are you trying to solve this alone?"
"You already have enough to deal with." I shrug weakly. "You have a state to run. I don't want to add my problems to your list."
His eyes don't leave mine. "Your problems aren't separate from mine anymore."
I blink. He continues. "You're my wife, Diya. You don't trouble me. Your troubles trouble me . . . "
He gently squeezes my hand. I stare at him for a second before frowning.
"Can you please explain that in normal human language? My brain has stopped working after hearing the word 'trouble' three times in one conversation."
A laugh escapes him. A real one.
He shakes his head before stepping closer again. "What I mean," he says quietly, "is that you're part of my life now." He cups my face carefully. "If something steals your peace . . . " His thumb strokes gently across my cheek. " . . . it steals mine too."
His voice grows softer. "So why do you think leaning on me is a burden?"
The question catches me completely off guard.
I lower my eyes. "Growing up . . . " My voice becomes little more than a whisper. " . . . every problem I had felt like an inconvenience to my parents." I swallow the lump in my throat. "If I needed help . . . My father acted like I was wasting his time."
A tear slips free again. "So I learned to handle everything myself. It's easier than feeling like you're bothering people."
For a long moment, Veeraj says nothing.
I can almost feel the anger rolling off him. Not at me. At the memories.
His jaw tightens before he gently cups my face again. His thumb brushes over one of the pale patches on my cheek with surprising tenderness.
"I don't care what anyone else made you believe." His voice is low. "You will never be a burden to me."
"Not your tears."
"Not your anger."
"And definitely not your problems."
He smiles softly. "So the next time life gets too heavy . . . " He leans his forehead against mine again. " . . . lean on me instead."
My throat tightens all over again. This time it isn't because I'm hurting. It's because someone is finally giving me permission to stop carrying everything alone.
"Thank you," I whisper.
My fingers curl into the front of his shirt. For the first time in years the words I don't know what to do don't feel quite so terrifying anymore.
Veeraj wraps his arms around me again and kisses the top of my head.
"Enough worrying for today, Trouble," he murmurs. "Go get some sleep." His voice returns to its calm, confident certainty. "I'll take care of the rest.”