“I love you, Sitara,” I say again, steadier this time. “And you’re right about one thing—I have no reason, no right to love you.” I give a short, humorless laugh. “But I do. I always will. I can’t not love you. It’s just not in me.”
My heart is racing now, pounding so hard it almost hurts.
“It hurts, princess,” I say, my voice breaking despite my effort to stay composed. “It hurts hearing you talk about yourself like that.”
I slide off the bed and kneel in front of her without thinking, my knees pressing into the carpet.
“Please,” I say, my pride dissolving completely. “Don’t ever speak about yourself that way.”
Her sobs grow louder now, no longer restrained. She shakes, grief and fear and shame pouring out all at once.
“Come to me,” I plead softly. “If you ever feel like you’re not beautiful, if you ever feel unworthy—come to me.”
I lift my head, meeting her eyes through the tears.
“I will show you what you mean to me,” I say. “How you leave me breathless. How now that I’ve tasted a life with you, I can’t imagine one without you.” My throat tightens painfully. “But never, never say those words about yourself again. It feels like you’re killing me.”
She breaks completely then.
Her sobs tear out of her chest, loud and unfiltered, and I don’t think—I just move. I wrap my arms around her, pulling her into me, holding her tightly, desperately, like anchoring her is the only thing keeping us both afloat.
Her face presses into my shoulder, her hands clutching at my shirt.
I hold her.
I rock her gently.
And I silently promise myself—no matter how long it takes, no matter how hard it is—that I will spend the rest of my life undoing the damage the world has done to her.
Things we say out loud
SITARA
“Do you really?”
The question slips out before I can stop it. It’s small, almost fragile, but it carries everything I’m afraid to believe.
Dhruv looks at me like I’ve just asked him whether the sky exists. His cheeks turn pink—actually pink—and something in my chest loosens because for all his composure, for all that intensity, he still blushes like this. Still looks… shy.
Cute.Dangerously cute.
“Yes, Sitara,” he says, clearing his throat. “I really do love you. Should I get it tattooed for you?”
I snort before I can help myself. “It won’t hurt to have a man so obsessed that he gets it tattooed,” I say, laughter bubbling out of me, surprising even myself.
He laughs too, the sound warm and a little breathless, like he’s relieved I didn’t run in the opposite direction.
I look at him then—really look at him. The man kneeling in front of me not too long ago, breaking apart for me. Theman who held me like I was something precious instead of something… lacking.
“Dhruv,” I say softly, my smile fading into something more serious. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
He inhales deeply, his chest rising, then lets out a slow breath. “What did you expect me to say?” he asks quietly. “In your eyes, we were friends, princess. Just friends.”
That word again. Princess. It still does something strange to my heart.
“I couldn’t risk losing you altogether,” he continues. “Besides—” a corner of his mouth lifts “—Devraj would’ve killed me if he ever knew.”
A laugh escapes me despite the heaviness in my chest. “He would have,” I murmur, shaking my head.
