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He didn’t stop me. Just nodded, watching. His face held no judgment—just quiet concern.

And somehow, that was worse.

Because I wasn’t okay.

And for the first time… someone could see it.

____________

Back in my room, I sat cross-legged on the bed, the phone clenched in my hands like it might disappear again if I blinked.

Vihaan.

His name still echoed like static in my head, buzzing behind every breath.

I couldn’t go there. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

I tapped Dadi’s name and hit “Call.”

It rang. Once. Twice.

Then—

“Kiara, sweetheart!”

Her voice came through like sunlight pouring into a dark room.

“Hi, Dadi,” I whispered, already feeling the sting in my throat again.

“Where have you been, baby? You’ve disappeared! No messages, no calls—”

“Sorry… things got a little busy.” Suddenly, I was that little girl again—curled in Dadi’s lap after a scraped knee or broken heart, soothed by nothing more than her voice.

“I’m okay now,” I lied gently.

She didn’t buy it. She never did.

“Okay is a lazy word, Kiara. It means ‘I’m not ready to tell you how much I want to.’ So try again.”

A breath hitched in my chest.

“I’m tired, Dadi,” I said. “Not just in my body. My heart feels… exhausted. Like I’ve been running and crashing and pretending for so long, I don’t even know what real feels like anymore.”

There was silence on the other end. But the kind that listens, not judges.

“You know,” Dadi added with a chuckle, “when your Grandpa broke my heart for the first time, I threw all his shirts into the pond.”

That made me laugh. “You’re joking.”

“I wish I were. The maid thought I was performing some ancient curse.”

I laughed again, shaky but real. “Did it work?”

“Of course. He came back the next day, soaking wet and very sorry.”

We both giggled, and for a moment, the world felt just a little less broken.

We sat in silence for a beat before she said, “So. You didn’t marry him.”