Vihaan's POV:
There was something in the way he held that glass in front of Ama — gentle, steady — and in the way she looked back at him. Silent, almost afraid. She had asked me for time, and I told myself I'd give it to her. But every time I saw that flicker of fear in her eyes, patience felt like a luxury I couldn't afford. I wanted to wait… but I couldn't risk her life. Not again. Not this time.
"Brother!" Eric's voice broke through my thoughts.
"Yeah?" I turned to see him standing there, books still open in front of him.
"How's Ama?" he asked, his tone soft but curious.
I smiled faintly, the memory of their first meeting flashing before me — how easily he had liked her, like it was never a question, only something the world had already decided. I could still see him in that hospital room, struggling to hold the knife away from her — trembling, but determined — trying not to disturb her sleep while keeping her safe in his own innocent way.
He's too young to carry so much, and yet somehow, he already does. Maybe that's our curse — or our bond. Both of us learning too early what it means to protect someone at any cost.
"Don't you think you care a little too much about my girlfriend?" I teased, letting a grin slip through the exhaustion. "Let me remind you, she's very loyal to me."
Eric smirked instantly, rising to the challenge. "Oh? Someone sounds insecure about his own brother." He chuckled, pretending to think. "Don't worry, man, I won't steal her away. But if I'd met her before you…" He paused, eyes glinting mischievously, "Well, let's just say the story might've turned out differently."
I shook my head, laughing softly despite myself. For a moment, the heaviness in my chest eased.
I wanted to talk to her — not about anything specific, just to hear her voice. Sometimes, that's all I need to breathe a little easier. But when I glanced at the clock, I stopped myself. It was late. She was probably asleep, and the last thing I wanted was to disturb her rest.
So, I opened my laptop and tried to focus on work — the upcoming hearing. Even after risking so much, after all the sleepless nights and evidence hunts, we still had nothing solid against him. That thought alone burned like acid in my chest. How could I be so powerless? How could I fail to protect her even after they tried to kill her?
A sudden buzz snapped me out of the spiral. I looked at the screen, and there it was — her name, glowing softly, like it always knew how to find me when I needed it most.
"How long do I have to eat these boiled veggies and porridge for every meal of mine?" she complained, her voice light and teasing — that familiar, soothing melody I could never get enough of.
I couldn't help but chuckle. Even now, weak and recovering, she still knew how to make me forget the weight of the world.
"Just fifteen days," I said, closing the laptop and leaning back. "I promise, on the sixteenth day, I'll take you out for an ice cream date. Deal?"
She laughed softly — that little sound that always seemed to reach straight to my heart. "That sounds good. Jia promised me a meal, and you promised me ice cream. I think I'm being spoiled."
"Ama…" I said, my tone dropping slightly, "How are you really?"
"You just saw me this morning," she replied quickly. "I'm fine."
But I heard it — the hesitation between her words, the quiet tension she tried to hide.And in that silence, I realized again: even from miles away, her voice could calm me — and still break me at the same time.
"Fine. But what are you doing up this late, Ama? You should be resting," I said, trying to shift the topic, my voice softer than I intended.
"I was missing you," she admitted, and my chest tightened. "I wanted to see you. I thought you'd come by in the evening… but you didn't."
Guilt hit me like a punch. Of course I should have gone.
"When I was in the hospital, you were always around," she continued, her voice almost teasing but edged with sincerity. "Now I'm used to it. You spoiled me, so don't blame me."
Her words made me smile, even as I quickly messaged Jia to open the door — I was coming.
"Yeah… never blaming you," I said, trying to keep my voice light. "And I'd love to spoil you even more." I started the car, not bothering to tell her, letting my actions speak instead.
"So… now tell me," I added, forcing my mind to settle on something mundane, "what did you have for lunch?"
Even in these small moments, even in her teasing and my distracted worry, I realized how much I craved her presence — how being near her made the world make sense again.
"Just boiled veggies and coconut water," she said, and I could almost picture her pouting on the other end of the call.
I smiled, shaking my head. "You make it sound like torture."
We talked about nothing in particular after that — little things, small laughs — the kind of conversation that fills the silences we're both too afraid to admit hurt.
By the time I reached the door, Jia was already waiting. She opened it quietly, her expression knowing. I gave her a small smile; she nodded back, as if to say, go ahead.
She led me down the hall toward Ama's room. My heart picked up its pace with every step.
"Okay, Ama, let's talk later," I said over the phone, trying to sound casual. "It's late, and you should get some rest."
"Hm," she hummed, disappointment clear in her tone.
Jia knocked on her door before pushing it open a little. "I thought you might need some company," she said lightly.
"Who? No, I don't," Ama's voice came, a little panicked, and I could almost see her tugging the blanket up to her chin. "I'm fine, Jia. Really."
Jia grinned, eyes glinting. "Oh, alright then. I'll just tell him that you don't want company. Mr. Vihaan, looks like your visit isn't needed after all."
She stepped aside, and I finally came into view.
The way Ama's eyes widened — surprise melting into that soft, luminous smile — hit me harder than I expected. Her lips parted, and for a second, she just stared at me like she wasn't sure I was real.
And in that moment, with her hair tousled, blanket half-draped, and that smile lighting her face… I swear, I could have stayed right there forever.
That — that was the smile I could die for.
I crossed the room in a few long strides and pulled her into a hug, almost desperately, as if holding her close could make the world right again.
"You might have changed your mind?" I whispered, my voice low, teasing but threaded with something more — hope, longing, and the relief of finally being near her.
For a moment, she froze in my arms, her small frame trembling slightly, as if unsure whether to melt into me or pull away.
Then, slowly, she relaxed, resting her head against my chest. I could feel the soft rhythm of her heartbeat, a gentle pulse that somehow steadied my own racing pulse.