He's Back

After Otim left, Mark turned to Anushka, his expression a mix of gratitude and confusion. "Thank you," he said softly, his voice carrying a weight of emotion. "For coming to pick me up."

Anushka smiled, though her heart ached at the uncertainty in his eyes. "You don't have to thank me, Mark. I'm just glad you're safe."

They climbed into Mark's car, Anushka taking the driver's seat while Mark settled in beside her. As they drove, Mark's gaze lingered on her, his eyes studying her features with a quiet intensity. Everything about her seemed familiar—the curve of her smile, the way her hair framed her face, the warmth in her eyes—but his memory couldn't quite place her. It was as if she were a puzzle he was desperate to solve.

Anushka focused on the road, her hands steady on the wheel, but she could feel Mark's eyes on her. Every now and then, she glanced at him, only to find his gaze fixed on her, unwavering. It made her heart race, but she didn't say anything. She didn't want to break the fragile connection between them.

Finally, Mark broke the silence. "Has anyone ever told you that you're beautiful?" he asked, his voice soft but sincere.

Anushka's cheeks flushed, and she glanced at him, momentarily caught off guard. "I… I don't know," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. She wasn't sure how to respond. Mark had always been reserved, never one to offer compliments so freely. But this wasn't the Mark she knew—not entirely. This was a Mark who was rediscovering the world, and in that moment, she was at the center of it.

Mark didn't press her for an answer. Instead, he leaned back in his seat, his gaze still on her, a small smile playing on his lips. The rest of the drive passed in comfortable silence, the tension between them slowly giving way to a quiet understanding.

When they arrived at the Bendilani mansion, Anushka parked the car and turned to Mark. "We're here," she said softly, her voice tinged with nervousness. She wasn't sure how the family would react to seeing Mark after all this time.

Mark nodded, his expression unreadable. He reached for her hand, his fingers intertwining with hers as they walked to the front door. Anushka's heart skipped a beat at the contact, but she didn't pull away. She could feel the strength in his grip, as if he were anchoring himself to her.

They rang the doorbell, and after a few moments, Monica opened the door. Her eyes widened in shock as she took in the sight of Mark standing there, alive and well. "Mark?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

Before he could respond, Monica threw her arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. "Oh, Mark," she sobbed, her voice muffled against his shoulder. "I thought I had lost you. How could I be such a bad aunt? I couldn't even take care of my sister's children."

Mark hugged her back, his voice gentle but firm. "You're not a bad aunt, little mum. You've always been there for us. I'm fine, really."

Monica pulled back, her hands cupping his face as she studied him. "You're really here," she said, her voice filled with relief. Then her eyes landed on Anushka, and she smiled through her tears. "And you brought him home. Thank you, Anushka."

Anushka nodded, her throat too tight to speak. She could feel Mark's hand tighten around hers, his thumb brushing against her knuckles in a gesture that felt both comforting and intimate.

Monica ushered them inside, her emotions still raw. "Come in, come in. The others will be home soon. They'll be so happy to see you."

Over the next hour, the rest of the family arrived one by one, each reacting with shock and joy at the sight of Mark. Dad was the first to arrive, his usual stoic demeanor crumbling as he pulled Mark into a tight embrace. "My boy," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "You're safe."

Mark hugged him back, his voice steady. "I'm fine, Dad. I'm home."

Next came Emily, who burst into tears the moment she saw him. "Mark!" she cried, throwing her arms around him. "We thought we'd lost you!"

Mark held her close, his voice soothing. "I'm here, Emily. I'm not going anywhere."

Jacqueline arrived shortly after, her eyes widening in disbelief as she saw Mark sitting in the living room, his hand still clasped in Anushka's. "Mark," she said, her voice trembling. "You're really here."

Mark stood, pulling her into a hug. "I'm home, J. And I'm okay."

Each time, after the hugs and tears, Mark would reach for Anushka's hand again, as if drawn to her by some force he couldn't explain. It wasn't just a gesture of comfort—it was something deeper, something he couldn't quite place. Every time their hands touched, it felt like a spark, a connection that went beyond words.

As they sat together in the living room, Mark's thumb traced small circles on the back of Anushka's hand, a quiet, romantic gesture that made her heart flutter. She responded in kind, her fingers gently squeezing his as if to reassure him that she was there, that she wasn't going anywhere.

The family noticed, their eyes flicking to their joined hands with a mix of curiosity and understanding. It was clear that something had changed between them, even if they couldn't quite put it into words.

Finally, Grandpa arrived. The moment he stepped through the door, the room seemed to hold its breath. He paused, his sharp eyes taking in the scene before landing on Mark. For a moment, he just stood there, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he walked over to Mark.

"Mark," Grandpa said, his voice gruff but filled with emotion. "You're back."

Mark stood, releasing Anushka's hand for the first time since they'd arrived. "Grandpa," he said, his voice steady but tinged with respect. "I'm home."

Grandpa reached out, his hand gripping Mark's shoulder with a strength that belied his age. "You've been through a lot, boy. But you're a Bendilani. You're stronger than you know."

Mark nodded, his gaze steady. "I know, Grandpa. And I'm ready to face whatever comes next."

Grandpa's eyes softened, and for a moment, it looked like he might say more. But instead, he simply nodded, his grip on Mark's shoulder tightening before he let go. "Good. That's what I like to hear."

As Grandpa took his seat, Mark reached for Anushka's hand again, his fingers intertwining with hers as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The family exchanged glances, but no one said anything. It was clear that whatever had happened between Mark and Anushka, was something special.

As the family settled in the living room, the atmosphere was a mix of joy and tension. Mark sat beside Anushka, their hands still intertwined, while the others took their seats around them. Dad was the first to speak, his tone serious but gentle. "Mark, we need to know what happened. Where have you been all this time?"