He didn’t stop me. Just nodded, watching. His face held no judgment—just quiet concern.
And somehow, that was worse.
Because I wasn’t okay.
And for the first time… someone could see it.
____________
Back in my room, I sat cross-legged on the bed, the phone clenched in my hands like it might disappear again if I blinked.
Vihaan.
His name still echoed like static in my head, buzzing behind every breath.
I couldn’t go there. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
I tapped Dadi’s name and hit “Call.”
It rang. Once. Twice.
Then—
“Kiara, sweetheart!”
Her voice came through like sunlight pouring into a dark room.
“Hi, Dadi,” I whispered, already feeling the sting in my throat again.
“Where have you been, baby? You’ve disappeared! No messages, no calls—”
“Sorry… things got a little busy.” Suddenly, I was that little girl again—curled in Dadi’s lap after a scraped knee or broken heart, soothed by nothing more than her voice.
“I’m okay now,” I lied gently.
She didn’t buy it. She never did.
“Okay is a lazy word, Kiara. It means ‘I’m not ready to tell you how much I want to.’ So try again.”
A breath hitched in my chest.
“I’m tired, Dadi,” I said. “Not just in my body. My heart feels… exhausted. Like I’ve been running and crashing and pretending for so long, I don’t even know what real feels like anymore.”
There was silence on the other end. But the kind that listens, not judges.
“You know,” Dadi added with a chuckle, “when your Grandpa broke my heart for the first time, I threw all his shirts into the pond.”
That made me laugh. “You’re joking.”
“I wish I were. The maid thought I was performing some ancient curse.”
I laughed again, shaky but real. “Did it work?”
“Of course. He came back the next day, soaking wet and very sorry.”
We both giggled, and for a moment, the world felt just a little less broken.
We sat in silence for a beat before she said, “So. You didn’t marry him.”
