All I cared about in this moment was her—the woman who had walked into my life and turned it completely upside down. The woman who didn’t even realize that, piece by piece, she was becoming the only thing holding me together. And now, I was determined to do the same for her.
I am in love with her.
Honestly.
Hopelessly.
Helplessly.
This isn’t the kind of love that sneaks up on you gently, like the first light of dawn. No, it’s the kind that crashes in like a storm—violent, consuming, and entirely beyond my control. It’s chaos and clarity all at once, leaving me undoneand yet somehow more whole than I’ve ever been.
She doesn’t even realize the hold she has on me. I can’t pinpoint when it started, and maybe it doesn’t even matter. All I know is that there’s no way out of this. And truthfully? I don’t want one. Her head finally dropped onto my shoulder, her soft sobs muffled against my chest as I wrapped my arms around her.
For a long moment, neither of us moved. Her breath against my skin was uneven but slowing. When she finally opened her eyes, they locked onto mine, still glassy with tears but steadier now.
“Come on,” I murmured, reaching for her plate again. “Just a few more bites.”
Her brows knitted slightly, her voice low and hesitant. “You don’t have to—”
“I know,” I interrupted, lifting the spoon to her lips, my voice unshakable. “I want to.”
She reached up, her fingers wrapping softly around my wrist—not to stop me, but to hold on.
For the first time that evening, her lips curved into something that resembled a smile—small, tentative, but real. It was the kind of smile that felt like watching the first rays of sunlight after a storm, fragile yet filled with quiet hope.
Reluctantly, she opened her mouth, letting me feed her another bite.
After dinner, I coaxed her into bed. It took some gentle persuading—she insisted she wasn’t tired—but the moment her head hit the pillow, sleep dragged her under. I hovered by the bedside for a while, watching her breathe, softly brushing my hand over her forehead in a slow, comforting rhythm.
24 ♥?Kiara
These mornings are becoming my dream, the kind I’d love to hold onto forever. Shirtless Manav, his strong arms wrapped around me, one hand resting softly on the pillow while the other keeping me securely against his chest. I can feel his heartbeat against my back, steady and grounding, his warm breath brushing against my ear.
But then—oh God—something very hard poked against me. His… morning wood?
Oh, Holy Mother of sweet Roses.
My body froze, and I tried to shift ever so slightly, hoping not to wake him. Instead, he pulled me closer, his lips brushing my temple in a lazy kiss as if in his sleep. My heart skipped several beats, and I managed to wriggle out of his grasp, his arms falling loosely to his side as he remained blissfully asleep.
I fixed my hair quickly, avoiding my reflection, and headed to the kitchen. I need coffee. Strong coffee. Something to wake me from this dream before my sanity melts away completely.
As I stepped into the kitchen, a voice startled me, soft but firm. “Good morning.”
I nearly tripped over my own feet, clutching the counter for support as my heart leapt out of my chest. Turning around, I saw Sasha sitting at the kitchen island, a cup of coffee in hand. Her gaze was calm yet piercing, and she nodded toward the stool beside her.
“Hi,” I stammered, drawing out the word.
“We need to talk.” Her tone was direct as she placed the coffee cup down, gesturing for me to sit.
My nerves buzzed as I slowly took the offered stool. Whatever this is, it doesn’t seem like it’s going to be a casual morning chat.
“Manav is still sleeping. Do you want me to wake him?” I was fidgeting nervously with the empty coffee cup in my hands.
“No,” Sasha replied calmly. “I want to talk to you.”
“Is everything okay?” The last time we met, it was clear she wasn’t exactly my biggest fan.
“I know we got off on the wrong foot,” she said, closing the laptop she’d been working on. “But I’m not here as Manav’s PR advisor. I’m here as his sister.”
