The fierce protectiveness that surged through him at her words was overwhelming. This woman—his wife, his partner, his everything—wasn't afraid of his darkness. She embraced it when it protected her.
"I love you," he said roughly.
"I love you too." She leaned into him, exhausted. "Take me home."
"Anything. Everything. Always."
Chapter Sixteen
They went straight to Dr. Sharma, who pronounced Advika bruised but not seriously injured. Cracked rib, rope burns, various contusions. Nothing that wouldn't heal.
"You were lucky," the doctor said.
"I was prepared," Advika corrected. She'd fought back, had injured one of her captors, had slowed them down enough for Sidharth to find her.
At home, Sidharth was simultaneously tender and terrified. He helped her into the shower, washing her with gentle hands, his jaw clenched as he catalogued every bruise and scrape.
"I should have protected you better," he said, his voice rough with self-recrimination. "The security at the bakery should have been stronger—"
"Stop." She cupped his face, forcing him to look at her. "This isn't your fault. You can't protect me from everything."
"I can try."
"And you did. You found me. You saved me." She kissed him softly. "That's what matters."
But that night, the nightmares came.
Advika woke gasping, her heart racing, the echo of gunfire in her ears. Strong arms immediately surrounded her, pulling her close.
"I've got you," Sidharth murmured. "You're safe. You're home. I've got you."
She burrowed into his chest, trying to slow her breathing. "They had guns. So many guns."
"They're dead. Every single one of them. They can't hurt you anymore."
"I know. I know that logically. But—" Her voice broke.
"But your body doesn't know it yet." He held her tighter, one hand stroking her hair. "It's okay. The nightmares are normal. Dr. Sharma said they might happen."
"I hate feeling weak."
"You're not weak. You fought back. You injured one of them. You freed yourself." His voice was fierce with pride. "You're the strongest person I know."
They lay like that for hours, Sidharth holding her through the shaking, through the tears, through the aftershocks of trauma. When she finally fell back asleep, he didn't let go.
Over the next few days, a pattern emerged. Daytime, Advika was mostly okay—going to the bakery (with tripled security), working, functioning. But nights were hard. The nightmares came regularly, and each time, Sidharth was there.
"I almost lost you," he said one night, after a particularly bad nightmare had her sobbing against his chest.
"But you didn't. I'm here. I'm okay."
"You're hurt. Traumatized. Because I couldn't—"
"Sidharth." She pulled back to look at him. "Stop taking responsibility for other people's evil. You didn't kidnap me. You didn't hurt me. You saved me."
"I should have prevented it—"
"You can't control everything. And honestly?" She traced the line of his jaw. "I think I needed to go through that. To prove to myself that I'm not helpless. That I can survive."
