Part 12
The corridor was bathed in a gentle, amber light from the lamps that lined the walls, casting a warm, soft glow on everything it touched. Rohith stood waiting, his tension palpable in the quiet space. He shifted restlessly, glancing occasionally at the closed door of Abhira's room, each minute stretching into what felt like an eternity.
When the door finally creaked open, Armaan emerged. The sight of his brother hit Rohith with an unexpected force. Armaan's usually composed face was now a stark shade of pallor, his eyes rimmed with red and clouded with unshed tears. The transformation was jarring; it was as if the very essence of his strength had been drained away in the brief moments inside.
Armaan made an attempt to mask his distress with a smile, a gesture so fragile that it seemed to quiver with the weight of his hidden anguish. The effort was clearly superficial, an act of willful deception meant to protect both himself and those around him from the raw emotions he was struggling to contain.
As Armaan drew closer, his attempt at normalcy crumbled. Rohith met his gaze, and the veneer of control shattered. The smile faded, leaving behind a deep well of sorrow and exhaustion that Armaan had been desperately trying to suppress. The emotional toll of his conversation with Abhira was visible in every strained line of his face, every faltering step he took.
Rohith's heart ached at the sight of his brother so vulnerable, his own worries and apprehensions momentarily overshadowed by Armaan's evident pain. He could see the remnants of the façade slipping away, revealing the depth of the struggle Armaan had endured. The composure that Armaan had tried to maintain now seemed like a distant memory, replaced by the raw, unfiltered reality of his emotions.
Armaan reached Rohith and for a moment, he simply stood there, his shoulders sagging under an invisible weight. The effort to appear strong had left him exhausted, and the facade he had clung to was now nothing more than a fleeting memory. Rohith, sensing his brother's need for support, extended a hand, his touch gentle but firm.
"Hey," Rohith said softly, his voice a soothing balm in the tense atmosphere. "It's okay. You don't have to keep up the act. I'm here."
Armaan's eyes met Rohith's, and for the first time, he allowed himself to be fully seen. The tears he had fought back now began to spill, unrestrained and genuine. He let out a shuddering breath, and the walls he had built around himself finally began to crumble. Rohith stood by him, a steady presence in the midst of his turmoil, offering the support that Armaan so desperately needed.
Together, they walked down the corridor, the weight of the moment giving way to the solace of shared understanding. The corridor's soft light seemed to echo their tentative steps, a promise of comfort and the beginning of healing amidst the darkness. Seeing the depth of Armaan's distress, Rohith decided it would be best to get him away from the house, where the weight of their surroundings might only amplify his emotional burden. With a decisive nod, Rohith guided Armaan toward the parking lot, steering him gently but firmly.
Armaan moved almost on autopilot, his steps slow and heavy as he followed Rohith. The drive was not just about physical distance but a way to offer Armaan a break from the immediate pressure of their environment. Rohith's car, a refuge from the night's intensity, was parked nearby. He opened the door for Armaan, who slid into the passenger seat with a sigh of relief, grateful for the change of scenery.
Rohith started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot, the hum of the car providing a soothing background to their quiet. As they drove, Rohith kept the pace relaxed, choosing a route that meandered through quieter parts of the city, away from the usual hustle and bustle. The gentle rhythm of the car's motion was a comforting contrast to the emotional turbulence Armaan had just faced.
They drove in silence for a while, the calmness of the night and the rhythmic sound of the tires on the road creating a meditative atmosphere. Rohith occasionally glanced over at Armaan, his concern palpable, but he didn't press for conversation. Instead, he let the silence speak volumes, offering Armaan the space to gather his thoughts without feeling overwhelmed.
After some time, Rohith pulled into a scenic overlook on the edge of town. The view was expansive, with the city lights twinkling below like a sea of stars. It was a place they had visited many times, a spot that held memories of both joyful and contemplative moments.
As they sat there, the cool night air filtering through the open window, Rohith finally broke the silence. "You don't have to talk if you don't want to, Armaan. I just thought this might help, give you a chance to clear your head a bit."
Armaan looked out at the view, the vastness of it seemingly putting his troubles into perspective. The soothing presence of his brother and the tranquility of the setting began to ease the tight knot in his chest. He took a deep breath, letting the calm of the night seep into him.
Rohith remained patient, understanding that sometimes the most profound comfort comes from just being there, silently sharing in the weight of the moment. The drive was more than just a change of scenery; it was an opportunity for Armaan to process his emotions, knowing that he wasn't alone in facing them.
As they sat in the quiet of the overlook, Armaan stared out at the city lights, struggling to find the right words. The stillness around him seemed to pull at the dam he had built up inside, and he found himself unraveling.
"I don't even know where to start," Armaan said, his voice breaking slightly. "It feels like everything has been falling apart so fast."
Rohith remained silent, simply nodding in understanding, allowing his brother to express his turmoil at his own pace.
"It's just... after Abhira's mom passed away, everything changed. I promised her mother that I would take care of her. I made that promise, and I meant it. But now it feels like... like I failed her. She never wanted to get married, not really. She just wanted to separate then and there. She didn't want to be a liability. I never intended to marry anyone then as I thought I lost a chance at love, now that Ruhi was already married. But I couldn't leave her there when she had no one. And I... I thought that if I did everything right, everything would work out. But I was wrong."
Armaan's words tumbled out in a rush. His face was contorted with a mixture of pain and frustration. "She came to me, saying she wanted a year's deal. A year where we would stay married, but with an end in sight. I thought it was absurd at first. I couldn't understand why she would want that. But now, I realize she was trying to protect herself, to give herself some space."
He paused, his gaze fixed on the horizon, trying to gather his thoughts. "I didn't know the full extent of what she was going through. I didn't see the emotional abuse, the way she was treated in the Poddar house. It was like... like I was blind to it. I was used to that kind of environment, so I didn't see it as abuse. To me, it was just normal."
Armaan's eyes glistened as he continued. "Abhira faced so much difficulty trying to adjust, trying to find her place in all this. And I didn't understand. I thought I was doing everything right, but I was just adding to her pain. I didn't know that my own background, my own experiences, were hurting her."
He took a deep breath, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his confessions. "I thought I could fix everything by following the rules, by sticking to what I promised. But now... now I'm not sure if I ever really understood what she needed. I see her struggling, and I feel helpless."
Armaan's voice softened, a mix of regret and sadness threading through his words as he continued. "The thing is, Abhira... she loved everyone in that house. Despite everything, she found a way to care for them. Even when they made it difficult, even when she was hurt, she still tried. She cooked for them, listened to their problems, and tried to be the daughter-in-law they expected her to be. But they never really saw her, did they? They never appreciated how much she was giving, how much of herself she was sacrificing just to fit in."
His hands clenched into fists as he spoke, the tension in his body reflecting the turmoil in his heart. "And me... I should have been there for her. I should have stood by her side and defended her when she needed it. But I didn't. I let her fight those battles alone, thinking she could handle it, thinking she was strong enough. But that was just me being a coward, wasn't it? Too scared to confront the people I cared about, too scared to rock the boat."
Armaan's voice trembled as he continued, the weight of his guilt pressing down on him like a heavy burden. "And the worst part, Rohith... I wasn't just absent when she needed me the most. I was actively making things worse. Instead of understanding what she was going through, instead of trying to see things from her perspective, I was berating her. I kept telling her that she needed to adjust, to mend her ways, to fit into the mold that everyone expected her to fit into. I thought I was helping, but all I was doing was breaking her spirit."
He shook his head, the anger at himself evident in his voice. "I was so blinded by my upbringing, by the way things had always been done in our family, that I couldn't see how wrong it was to force those expectations on her. I kept telling her that she needed to be more accommodating and that she needed to try harder to not upset everyone. But she was already giving everything she had, and I... I was too wrapped up in my own beliefs to see that."
Armaan's fists unclenched, and his hands fell to his sides, a sense of helplessness washing over him. "I made her feel like she wasn't enough like she was the problem. When all along, it was me who couldn't see that she was already doing more than anyone could ask of her. I should have been her ally, her partner, but instead, I became just another source of pain for her."
He let out a shaky breath, the enormity of his mistakes crashing down on him. "I've spent so much time trying to be the perfect son, the perfect grandson, that I lost sight of what matters—and expected the same from her. And now, I don't even know if I can fix what I've broken."Rohith listened quietly, his heart aching for his brother. He could see the depth of Armaan's regret, the rawness of the emotions he was finally allowing himself to feel. Rohith placed a reassuring hand on Armaan's shoulder, squeezing it gently.
"Bhaiyya, I can't pretend to know what Bhabhi is going through or what she needs right now. But I do know that you've taken the first step by recognizing where you went wrong. It's not going to be easy, and it might take a long time to rebuild that trust, but the fact that you're willing to do the work—that you want to make things right—means a lot. You may not have been the partner she needed before, but you can be now. If she's willing to give you that chance, then you owe it to her, and to yourself, to give it everything you've got."
Armaan shook his head, his voice laced with a mixture of determination and sorrow. "No, Rohith. I can't be selfish like that. I can't just ask for forgiveness and then constantly hover around her, trying to regain her trust. She's been through so much already. She deserves the chance to heal without me complicating things further."
Rohith frowned, surprised by the firmness in Armaan's voice. "But Bhaiyya, if you really want to make things right, shouldn't you be there for her? Show her that you've changed, that you understand now?"
Armaan sighed, turning to look at his brother with tired, weary eyes. "I've thought about that, Rohith. But it's not about me anymore. Abhira told me she wants to start fresh, to move on and find her own path. I need to respect that. I can't keep holding onto her, hoping she'll give me another chance. It's not fair to her. She needs to end this chapter, and I owe it to her to step aside and let her do that."
He swallowed hard, the pain of his decision evident in every word. "I would do anything to make up for the pain I caused, but I can't force her to carry that burden with me. If letting her go is what she needs to find peace, then that's what I'll do. I'll obey her wishes, even if it means walking away."
Armaan's voice grew quieter, tinged with a deep introspection as he continued. "And I'm not going to miraculously tell her that I love her now, just because I finally realized how much she loved me. No, that wouldn't be right. The truth is, I'm not even sure what I feel right now. I've spent so long suppressing my emotions, trying to be the person everyone expected me to be, that I never really allowed myself to understand what I truly wanted or needed."
He paused, gathering his thoughts, his gaze drifting back to the twinkling city lights below. "But I do know this—I'm deeply attached to her. She's made me live my life in ways I never imagined. She brought a light into my world that I didn't even know was missing. I've learned so much from her, more than I ever thought I could. In these three decades, I've never felt this cared for, this... loved. She made me feel that, and I didn't even realize it until now."
Armaan's eyes glistened with unshed tears as he spoke, his voice thick with emotion. "But I can't just cling to her out of fear or guilt. That's not love, that's selfishness. I need to step back and really assess my feelings, to understand what it is that I want and what it is that she needs. And if what she needs is to move on without me, then that's what I have to accept."
He took a deep breath, as if trying to steady himself against the torrent of emotions swirling within him. "It hurts, Rohith. It hurts so much to think that I might lose her, that I might never get the chance to show her that I've changed. But I can't drag her down with me as I try to figure out my own heart. She's given me so much already, and the least I can do is let her find her own peace, even if it means stepping aside."
Rohith's hand remained on Armaan's shoulder, a silent offer of support. He could see the internal battle his brother was fighting, the struggle between wanting to hold on and knowing he needed to let go.
"Bhaiyya," Rohith said gently, "whatever happens, you're doing the right thing by putting her needs first. It takes a lot of strength to do what you're doing, to let go when all you want to do is hold on. Just know that you're not alone in this. We'll get through this together, no matter what."
Armaan nodded, his eyes still fixed on the horizon as he tried to find solace in his brother's words. "Thank you, Rohith. I don't know what I would do without you."
For a long moment, they sat in silence, the cool night air brushing against their faces as the weight of Armaan's decision settled in. The city below seemed to stretch out endlessly, a reminder of the vastness of the world and the countless possibilities that lay ahead—possibilities that, for now, Armaan was still struggling to grasp.
But with Rohith by his side, he knew that he wouldn't have to face those possibilities alone.
Let me know your thoughts.
Also, give a guess what would be the next chapter.
Edited by chinnuu_20 - 1 months ago
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