CHAPTER 11: THE MAN WHO LOVES ME
CHAPTER 11: THE MAN WHO LOVES ME
Pia's Point of View
It had been three days.
Three long, drawn-out days since I had last opened my mouth to speak to anyone. Three days since I had poured my heart out and received only guarded silences in return. Three days since my reality had cracked into pieces—and no one offered to help me pick them up.
But most of all, it had been three days of being around Arjun.
The man I had once loved with such depth that it scared me. The man who had, with every smile and every soft kiss on my forehead, become the center of my little universe. The same man who had held me through the night when I was afraid. The same man who had promised to always protect me. The same man who now stood before me, handing me a glass of water and two white pills.
"It's just the iron and folic acid supplements. You need to keep up with them, okay?" he said, his voice low, gentle.
I nodded silently, taking the pills and swallowing them without argument. My eyes didn't meet his.
"Do you want anything else? Juice? I can get you some of that sweet orange one you like."
I shook my head.
He sighed and sat beside me on the edge of the bed. "You haven't been talking. I miss your voice."
I stared blankly ahead, hugging the pillow to my chest. He gently tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. His touch was still soft. Loving. Nothing had changed about the way he treated me.
That's what haunted me most.
How could he still be the same? Still treat me with such care, like I was the most precious thing he had ever held?
He didn't force conversation. He didn't push for answers. He just stayed close, hovering like a gentle presence, always asking if I'd eaten, if I was cold, if I wanted anything.
And I, like a shadow of the girl I used to be, obeyed everything without a word.
I didn't know what else to do.
---
That evening, he brought me downstairs. The house was quiet. Maa hadn't returned since the last time we spoke. My parents and Rishi hadn't visited again either. It was just the two of us in the vast silence.
He made dinner himself. Simple dal, rice, and sautéed vegetables. The kitchen still smelled faintly of the burnt rotis he'd tried to make the previous day.
"Don't worry," he said, catching me staring. "I didn't burn them today. I practiced."
He was trying so hard.
He placed the plate before me and sat across the table, watching me like he always did when we ate together. Not because he was suspicious—never that—but because he liked to see if I enjoyed what he made.
I took a bite.
It tasted like home.
His eyes lit up. "You like it?"
I gave a weak nod.
He smiled. That same boyish smile that once made my heart flutter. But now it only made it ache.
How could someone who loved me like this hurt me like that?
Was I losing my mind? Had I misunderstood something?
The thought gnawed at my brain, clawing for clarity.
---
Later that night, we sat on the couch. He wrapped a blanket around my shoulders and played my favorite playlist softly in the background. He didn't touch me. Not unless it was to help me up, or guide me gently toward a seat.
But he looked at me like I was still his world.
"Do you remember our one-month anniversary night?" he asked suddenly.
My fingers tightened around the mug I held.
"You were wearing that white satin thing," he continued, a nostalgic smile tugging at his lips. "God, Pia... I don't think I've ever seen anyone look so beautiful. You were glowing."
I stared at him. My heart squeezed painfully.
"That night..." I began, then stopped. My voice was hoarse from disuse.
He looked up at me immediately, eyes wide with hope. "You're talking."
I ignored his comment. "Do you remember everything from that night?"
His brows furrowed a little. "Of course I do."
"Every moment?"
"Yes. Why?"
I shook my head. "No reason."
He seemed to want to ask more, but didn't push.
Instead, he scooted closer—not touching me still, but near enough that I could feel the warmth of his presence.
"I know you want answers, Pia," he said quietly. "I know I've done something that made you afraid of me. I see it in your eyes. I hate that I caused that."
I looked at him, confused. "Then why won't you tell me the truth?"
He exhaled, looking down. "Because... I'm scared. Scared that if I do, I'll lose you."
I blinked. "You already have."
Silence.
The song changed to one of our old favorites, and the memory of us slow dancing in the kitchen played like a cruel echo in my mind.
He suddenly turned toward me and placed his hand carefully over mine. "Even if you hate me now... I'm not going anywhere. I'll be right here, loving you the same."
That's what he said.
Loving you the same.
And the worst part was—he meant it.
Every word. Every breath.
He was the same Arjun. The one who used to send me good morning messages with tiny hearts. The one who used to tie my apron strings when we cooked together. The one who used to press a kiss to my temple before heading to work.
The same man who watched me sleep like I was his entire world.
And yet, he was the man who had locked me in a room. The man who avoided questions. The man who held a syringe in his hands while I cried.
The contradictions tore me apart.
---
I laid in bed that night, facing away from him. He hadn't joined me. He hadn't tried to hold me. The blanket was tucked in perfectly around me, and the bedside lamp was dimmed.
From the corner of my eye, I saw him in the armchair, watching over me like some guardian.
What do you do when the person you love is the same person you're afraid of?
What do you do when everyone you trust is keeping you in the dark?
You wait. You endure. You search quietly, silently, until the truth comes to you. Because something deep inside still believes that this love—this beautiful, haunting love—isn't built on a lie.
And maybe, just maybe, Arjun isn't the monster my mind is trying to paint him as.
Maybe… he's just a man trying to protect something bigger than I understand.
But until then—I'll follow the routine. I'll take the pills. I'll nod. I'll listen.
And I'll wait.
For truth. For closure. For clarity.
For the Arjun I fell in love with to finally tell me what I deserve to know.