Her brows knit together. “Samarth?”
I nod. “He’s… a good man. Perfect in every way. And me… I am not. My business, my life… everything about me is complicated.”
She squeezes my hands gently. “Dev… yes, I hate some of the things you do. I hate your rage. I hate your stubbornness. But more than the things I hate… I see the part of you that overshadows everything else. The part that loves fiercely, that protects, that cares. That part of you is what makes me stay. I feel for you too much to care about the rest.”
Her words pierce straight through me.
She cups my face in her hands, offering that small, tender smile I’ve grown helplessly addicted to, before she continues, “And it’s not about having the perfect man. It’s about having the one who makes you happy.” She runs her thumb gently along my cheek, her touch soft. “Dev… I am happy with you. Even when you piss me off, even when I want to throw a pillow at you, I am still happy. Because you’re you. And nothing else matters.”
I close my eyes briefly, letting the tension in my body dissolve just a fraction.
“You make it sound so easy,” I murmur, the vulnerability in my voice laid bare in front of her.
She drops her head onto my shoulder with a quiet sigh, her fingers curling into my shirt. “It’s not easy…” she whispers, her voice soft but certain. “But with you… it feels worth it.”
I wrap my arm around her, pulling her closer. “I promise… I’ll try. For you. I’ll try to be someone worthy of what you give me every single day.” My lips brush against her hair as I breath out. “Because losing you is not something I could ever survive.”
Closing my eyes, I rest my chin on her head. I can’t walk away from my work. It’s a part of who I am. But she’ll never bear the weight of it. My business will stay locked away, far from her. I’ll make damn sure she never regrets choosing me. My love will drown out every darkness that I carry.
Chapter 25
Meera
I place the glass of water under the sink, muttering to myself,“How can someone not even know how to toast bread?”The thought makes me stifle a laugh. Dev is, without doubt, the worst cook I have ever known.
Yesterday, after I’d won our little bet, thanks to the doctor reassuring us that everything was perfectly fine, I reminded Dev that he had to keep his end of the wager. He didn’t argue. Instead, he disappeared into the kitchen with all the confidence that he was going to blow my mind with his culinary skills, only to return with a plate of burnt toast, an overcooked egg, and a cup of coffee so dark it looked like charcoal. I literally felt sweat form on my forehead at the very sight of the so-called breakfast, knowing I couldn’t take a single bite. Dev caught my expression, and the next second, we both burst out laughing and called for the cook to save us.
With each passing day, things with Dev feel more right, as if I’ve finally stopped doubting and started understanding that this is what perfect is supposed to feel like.
It’s exactly what I assured him yesterday, and I meant every word. When he voiced his vulnerability, confessing thathe feared I was here only because he’d forced this marriage… it struck something deep inside me. And though it had been true in the beginning, now… it isn’t. Not anymore.
For once, I can say it without a trace of guilt. I am not forced into this bond. I am here because I chose him, willingly, because somewhere along the way, I’ve started adoring him… all of him. Even his annoying, over-possessive side.
Smiling, I turn off the kitchen lights and head towards our room, but just as I am about to climb the stairs, I hear a voice brush past my ear.
“You are dead.”
And at the same instant, a shadow flickers behind me. My heart skips a beat, and I whip around, only to find no one there. My breath comes in quick, shallow bursts.
It’s nothing, I tell myself. It’s probably just my imagination.
I force myself to shake it off and grip the railing, willing my heartbeat to slow, but the dreadful unease inside me refuses to settle.
“Meera?”
I flinch at another sudden voice and turn, my hand flying to my chest. I let out a breath of relief when I see Dev standing at the top of the stairs.
“You scared me,” I say as he steps down, his brows slightly drawn with concern as he takes in my stiff posture.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Yeah… I just… I felt someone,” I stammer.
His jaw flexes. “Where?”
I gesture vaguely behind me. “There.”
Dev steps past me and scans the living room, his assessing eyes taking everything in before he disappears into the kitchen. The few minutes alone tighten my chest, and I am about to go to the kitchen after him when he comes back and stands in front of me.
