"She became his safe haven, his shelter from the storm, and his forever home."

Roohi's pov:

The morning light gently filtered through the curtains as I sat down with Vivaan for breakfast. I noticed that, as usual, he wasn't talking much, lost in his thoughts. I knew he was carrying a weight in his heart that he hadn't shared with me yet. It had been a while since our night together, and though we were growing closer, there were parts of him that remained sealed away.

"Vivaan," I started softly, breaking the silence. "You've always been there for me... but what about you? You've never really talked about your past, your pain." I placed my hand on his, hoping he'd open up. "You can trust me, you know."

Vivaan's eyes flickered to mine, and I saw something vulnerable there-something raw. He took a deep breath and leaned back, letting the silence linger for a moment before he spoke. His voice was low, almost a whisper, like he was reliving something that hurt too much to say.

"I was twelve when I got selected for the state-level drawing competition," he began, his voice steady but distant. "I was excited, but I wanted mumma and papa to come with me. I didn't want to go with my school teachers. It had to be them. But Meera was too small, so dadi stayed with her at home. I remember the joy in their faces when I won first prize... and how proud they were when I got selected for the national level."

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, but it was quickly replaced by sadness. "We even took Aryan with us, my little brother. He was two years younger than me, but he was just as excited. He was always adamant about joining us, no matter what."

I squeezed his hand gently, urging him to continue, even though I could tell how much it hurt him.

"We were returning after the competition," he continued, his voice trembling now. "Aryan was hungry, an me too, I went to get some snacks for us from road side shop. I had just gotten the money from papa when it happened. A truck came out of nowhere and hit our car. Our car was thrown to the other lane. I saw it happen. I was so close... too close."

His breath hitched, and I could see the pain in his eyes, the memories flooding back. "I rushed back, shouting for them... but... when I got there, the car was a wreck. Maa... papa... they were... they were gone. And Aryan... he was barely breathing."

Maa she uttered her last few words... "Please take care of meera and aryan...Aa Aryan.. Please save
him. "

I felt my chest tighten at his words. I wanted to hold him, tell him that everything would be okay, but I knew it wasn't that simple. His pain was something deeper than that. His loss... it was profound.

"I tried to keep it together, Roohi," he said softly, "but I couldn't. I had lost everything. I stayed with Aryan while they took mumma and papa away... I had to perform their last rites. Vivaan's voice faltered as he looked down, and I could feel the weight of his grief hanging in the air.

His eyes brimmed with tears, and I could feel his pain through every word he spoke.

I reached out instinctively, placing a gentle hand on his, urging him to continue.

"And then... then, Aryan wasn't even safe.The hospital refused to treat him unless we paid," he whispered, his tone a mixture of bitterness and helplessness. "An uncle stepped in and paid for his treatment, but... it never felt like enough. Aryan was unconscious for so long. I kept hoping, begging, he'd wake up. But he didn't." His voice cracked, and a tear escaped down his cheek.

His anguish was unbearable, and I wished I could take away his pain. Instead, I listened, knowing he needed to let it all out.

"My chachu paid Aryan's bills for a few days," Vivaan continued, his voice quieter now, almost like he was afraid to say the words aloud. "I stayed at the hospital to take care of him. Dadi took care of Meera at home... she was ill too. But chachi..." He paused, his jaw tightening as if even mentioning her name brought back painful memories. "She didn't like me staying at their place. She never did."

"What did she do?" I asked gently, though a part of me dreaded hearing the answer.

Vivaan let out a shaky breath, his hands clenching into fists. "She made sure I knew I didn't belong there. Every time chachu left for work, she would order me around-cleaning, cooking, even massaging her feet. And if I did anything wrong, she'd slap me,beat me until my senses turn numb."

My heart broke as I imagined a young Vivaan enduring such cruelty. He wasn't looking at me now, his gaze fixed somewhere far away, lost in those haunting memories.

"She wouldn't even offer me food," he added, his voice barely above a whisper. "Her son's plate would be filled with fancy dishes, and I... I would drink water to fill my stomach. But after a while, I stopped caring about being hungry. Aryan's condition... it consumed me. I couldn't think of anything else."

I wiped his tears but they kept falling, his voice trembling as he continued. "Then there was my school." His words faltered, and I saw his shoulders shake as fresh tears spilled down his face.

I moved closer, wrapping my arms around him, holding him as he broke down. "It's okay, Vivaan," I murmured, gently patting his back. "Take your time."

He pulled back slightly after a moment, his breaths uneven as I handed him a glass of water. He drank it slowly, his hands still trembling. When he was ready, he spoke again.

"My school called me," he said, his tone bitter. "They asked if I would join them for the national-level competition I'd been selected for. But how could I think about competing when my brother was fighting for his life? All I wanted was for Aryan to wake up, so I could tell him how much I missed him. So we could cry for Mumma and Papa together. That's all I wanted."

He shook his head, his lips pressing into a thin line before he continued. "But Chachi... she told me I had to go. She said if I didn't participate and win the cash prize, Aryan's treatment would stop. She told me she wasn't running a charity for paying hospital bills for free."

A bitter laugh escaped his lips, one filled with years of suppressed anger and pain. "So I went. I competed. And I won." His voice broke again, and his eyes glistened with tears. "I did what Mumma always wanted. But when I came back, they told me..."

He couldn't finish the sentence. His entire body trembled as he broke down again, and I hugged him tightly, my own tears streaming down my face.

"When I returned, I found out that Aryan was gone," he whispered, his eyes clouded with sorrow. "Chachu told me... but he wouldn't even let dadi see him for the last time. He... he said Aryan had died.I couldn't even see my little brother for last time. And then... my chachi took all the money I won from the competition. She said we owed her for feeding us. But we were just... orphans. She made me feel like I was a burden."

The sadness in his eyes broke my heart. I couldn't even begin to imagine the pain he'd gone through, the way his world had fallen apart. I cupped his face in my hands, forcing him to look at me.

I wanted to tell him that he was brave, that he was stronger than anyone I knew. But I didn't. I just held him, letting him release the weight of years of grief and guilt.

I whispered after a long silence, my voice shaky. "You were just a child, Vivaan. None of this was your fault."

He didn't reply, but the way he clung to me told me he had heard. And in that moment, I made a silent vow - to be there for him, to never let him feel alone again.

He closed his eyes, as if savoring the comfort of my touch. "I tried, Roohi," he murmured. " I tried so hard to hold everything together... but I failed."

"You didn't fail," I whispered, my voice breaking. "You're here now. And that's what matters."

Vivaan took a deep breath and continued, his voice now more steady, though the pain still lingered. "After they left, I didn't know what to do with myself. All I had was art. It became my escape. I got a scholarship to a drawing school, and... that's when I left Meera and dadi and started schooling in a hostel far away. But it was art that paid for everything... through exhibitions, through competitions. Art was my only way of surviving."

I could see the strength behind his words now, even though they were still laced with sorrow. He was a survivor. But his pain was still there, lingering like a shadow.

"And then..." Vivaan hesitated for a moment, "there was something my uncle sent me years ago. A letter... and a property deed. But I never opened it. After losing everything... what was the point of property, you know?"

I nodded, understanding his sentiment. He'd already lost so much. What could one more thing possibly mean?

"I promise you, Vivaan," I said softly, "I'll help you with this, when you're ready. But for now... let me help you heal. You don't have to carry this alone anymore."

He met my gaze, his eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and pain. "Thank you will be a very small word to express my gratitude roohi, this wasn't the first time that I have had nightmare,but this was the first time someone was there to hold me, when I am vulnerable."

I squeezed him tighter. "You don't have to explain it all right now. You're not alone anymore, Vivaan."

His chest heaved with another quiet sob, and I held him as if I could protect him from all the pain that had accumulated over the years. "I didn't know how to move on. How to forgive myself for not being there for them, for not fulfilling the promise." His voice trailed off, but I could sense the heaviness in his heart.

I gently wiped away a tear that escaped from his eye. "I understand," I whispered softly, my voice steady and reassuring. "But you don't have to carry that guilt. You've done nothing wrong."

He stayed silent for a long time, soaking in the comfort of my embrace. Then, with a deep sigh, he pulled away just enough to look into my eyes. "Thank you, Roohi," he whispered. "For being here, for hearing me out."

I smiled, brushing my fingers through his hair. "Always, Vivaan. I'll always be here for you."

Vivaan took a deep breath and nodded, the weight of his grief slowly lifting as he leaned into my embrace again. The room was silent for a while, just the soft sound of our breathing filling the space. I knew he wasn't completely healed, but today, I hoped I had given him a small part of the peace he deserved.

I smiled at him, my heart ached for what he had gone through but also swelled with love and compassion for him. He deserves everything in the world, And I would offer my man the world, "You'll never have to feel alone. We're in this together, okay?"

He nodded, the smallest of smiles appearing on his lips. For the first time, I saw a flicker of hope in his eyes.

Vivaan had shared so much with me in those moments, and though I could never fully understand the depth of his loss, I knew one thing for certain - I would never let him go through it alone again. I didn't know what the future held, but I knew we had each other, and that was more than enough for now.

______________________________________

Later at night

I sat on the bed, flipping through a magazine absentmindedly, when I saw Vivaan walk into the room. He looked exhausted, his shoulders slightly slumped, as though the weight of the world had decided to rest on them tonight. Without a word, he came and sat down beside me, his eyes distant. Slowly, he laid his head on my lap, letting out a deep sigh.

For a moment, I didn't move, stunned by the sudden intimacy of the gesture. But then, instinctively, I let my fingers find their way into his soft hair, gently running through it. It was comforting, not just for him but for me too.

He closed his eyes, his features softening slightly under my touch. But it wasn't long before he spoke, his voice low and heavy, as though dredged up from somewhere deep inside.

"Life is cruel, Roohi," he began, his eyes fixed on the the wall. "My mom...she saved thousands of lives, but no one could save hers." His voice cracked, and my heart clenched.

He let out a bitter laugh, devoid of any humor. "I never thought my happy, beautiful family would break apart like that. One moment, everything was perfect - Maa, Papa, Aryan, and I... laughing, teasing each other. And then, the next moment, it was all gone. Just like that."

He paused, his hands holding mine, as if trying to push the pain back inside. "This world is a beautiful place... That's the biggest lie I've ever heard, Roohi. Maa used to say it all the time, though. 'The world is a beautiful place, Vivaan,' she'd tell me, with that smile of hers."

He turned to look at me, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Maybe it is, but only for those who have money and people who actually care about them. For people like me, it's anything but beautiful. And the bigger lie? That relatives will always be there for you. They're supposed to be the ones who come running when you need them, right?"

I nodded, not daring to interrupt him, though my chest felt heavy with the weight of his words.

"They came, Roohi. They came to my parents' funeral, but not out of love or care. They came as if it was some duty they couldn't avoid. And when it was all over? They left, just like everyone else. No one thought about me - about what I would do. To be honest, no one even tried to console me. I stood there, a kid who had lost everything, and all they had to say was, 'Boys shouldn't cry. Crying makes you weak.'"

My hands tightened into fists at his words. I couldn't imagine how anyone could be so heartless. He turned back to the sky, his voice softer now. "And Dadi... she was suffering even more than me, but she didn't cry either. She couldn't. Maybe she didn't know how to, after losing everything. Maybe she thought I needed her to be strong."

The silence that followed was deafening. I didn't realize I was crying until I felt a tear roll down my cheek. Slowly, I reached out and placed my hand over his.

"Vivaan," I whispered, my voice trembling, "crying doesn't make you weak. It never has, and it never will. Those people who told you that , they didn't understand. They couldn't. How senseless, how heartless must someone be to tell a child not to cry when he's just lost his parents?"

His eyes met mine, and I saw the pain he had buried for years. "You were just a kid, Vivaan. You were hurting, and you had every right to mourn. If anyone ever made you feel like you didn't, they were wrong. So, so wrong."

He didn't say anything, but the look on his face told me he heard me. He understood. I gently squeezed his hand.

"You're not alone anymore," I said, my voice firm. "You've carried this weight by yourself for so long, Vivaan. But you don't have to anymore. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

For the first time that night, I saw the faintest trace of a smile on his lips - a smile filled with gratitude and something else, something that made my heart ache in the best way.

And in that moment, as the moonlight wrapped around us, I silently promised myself that I would do everything I could to make sure Vivaan never had to carry that pain alone again.

"Vivaan," I said firmly, "you've carried this pain for so long. But you don't have to anymore. You have me now. You're not alone in this. And crying doesn't make you weak. It makes you human. Don't ever believe otherwise."

His eyes softened, and for a moment, I thought I saw a glimmer of something - hope, maybe? He covered my hands with his, holding them against his face.

"Thank you, Roohi," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

I shook my head, a tear slipping down my cheek. "You don't have to thank me, Vivaan. I'm here because I want to be. Because you mean everything to me. And because you deserve to be loved and cared for, no matter what the world has told you."

For a long moment, we just sat there, the silence between us speaking louder than any words ever could. And as I wrapped my arms around him, holding him close, I silently promised that I would do everything in my power to help heal the wounds he had carried for far too long.

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