34. A Smile She Couldn't Hide

A/N: A huge thank you for all the love, comments, and DMs on the last chapter!

Seeing your reactions, theories, and emotions makes this journey even more special.

Keep supporting, sharing, and showering love on the story— there's so much more to come! 💜✨

Happy reading! 🫶

-----------------------------------------

"A..Abhir Sharma"

"I think I'm falling for you."

Her voice was barely a whisper, a secret too raw to say out loud.

For the first time, she allowed herself to truly feel it.

She exhaled shakily, pressing her forehead lightly against their hands.

"So if you ever think of pulling such stunts again or try leaving me... I swear, I'll assassinate you myself."

She stayed there for a moment, eyes closed, heart vulnerable for the first time in years.

And just as she was about to pull away.

A faint pressure tightened around her fingers.

Her eyes snapped up.

Abhir's fingers had curled slightly around hers.

Her breath hitched.

Did he hear her?

Charu stood still beside him, her fingers gripping his.

The weight of her confession still lingered in the air, her heart hammering in her chest.

She had never meant to say it aloud, never meant for those words to slip past her lips.

Yet, as she looked at him now, she knew they had been the most honest words she had ever spoken.

Her heart ached as she looked at him—so still, so fragile, so unlike the infuriating, arrogant man who had somehow become the center of her thoughts.

She sighed, blinking away the tears threatening to spill when—

A twitch.

Barely noticeable at first, but unmistakable.

Her eyes widened, pulse quickening as she saw his fingers move, a slow, weak flexing of his hand.

Her breath hitched, disbelief washing over her before it turned into frantic urgency.

Abhir?” Charu gasped, her voice shaky, uncertain. She wasn’t imagining it—his fingers moved again, slightly, weakly, but definitely moving.

Her heart leaped. “Abhir! Can you hear me?”

His hand jerked slightly, as if responding to her voice.

Panic and excitement clashed within her, and without thinking, she ran toward the door, throwing it open.

“Doctor! Someone call the doctor!” she shouted, turning towards the door, her voice loud enough to echo through the corridor.

Within seconds, the door swung open, and the doctor, along with a nurse, rushed in.

Charu stepped aside, giving them space but unable to move far, her eyes never leaving Abhir’s hand.

The doctor quickly assessed him, checking his vitals, shining a small flashlight into his eyes. “Mr.Sharma,” the doctor called firmly. “Can you hear me? If you can, try to lift your fingers again.”

A slow, labored movement followed—his eyelids fluttered, his brows twitched, and after what felt like an eternity, his dark eyes finally cracked open, hazy with confusion.

Charu’s breath caught in her throat.

Dark, unfocused, hazy—Abhir’s gaze slowly moved, trying to adjust to the dim lighting.

He blinked sluggishly, his breathing uneven as he took in the sight before him—the doctor leaning over him, the medical equipment surrounding him, and then… Charu.

“Abhi…” she whispered, unable to believe what she was seeing.

Abhir blinked sluggishly, his gaze shifting between Charu and the doctor.

His lips parted, but no words came out just yet.

Abhir’s throat moved as he swallowed, his eyes flickering again—this time, landing on Charu.

The doctor placed a hand on his shoulder. “Easy, Abhir. You were in an accident,” he explained calmly. “You’re safe now, but you need to rest. Don’t strain yourself.”

His gaze lingered on her, confusion flickering in his dark brown eyes. His head felt heavy, his mind foggy, but there was something—something he couldn’t quite grasp.

A memory, faint yet persistent, played in his mind like a broken record.

“I’m falling for you.”

The words echoed, soft and distant, yet unmistakable.

He blinked again, staring at Charu, trying to decipher if it was real or just another hallucination born from the haze of medication and exhaustion.

Abhir made an effort to speak, but his throat was too dry. The nurse quickly brought a small glass of water, helping him sip just enough to soothe the dryness. He exhaled shakily, still trying to process everything.

Meanwhile, Charu, regaining her composure, cleared her throat and turned toward the doctor. “Is this normal? The disorientation? And what should we do next?”

The doctor nodded reassuringly. “Yes, it’s normal. His body is still recovering from the trauma, and his mind will take time to clear.

He needs complete rest for the next twenty-four hours, no stress, no unnecessary conversations. Just let him regain his strength naturally.”

Charu absorbed the instructions, nodding. “And his pain? Will he need stronger medication?”

The doctor gave her a reassuring nod. “We’ll adjust his pain meds accordingly. His vitals are stable, and this is a very good sign, but he needs complete rest. He shouldn’t exert himself or talk too much just yet.”

She nodded, absorbing every word. “Anything else I need to know? About his care, any specific instructions?”

“He’ll be on a liquid diet for now, and we’ll monitor his neurological responses for the next few hours. If there’s any sudden change—dizziness, discomfort, or confusion—call us immediately.”

She nodded again, turning her gaze back to Abhir.“I’ll make sure he follows everything.”

He was still staring at her, his brows slightly furrowed as if he was trying to piece something together.

The doctor smiled slightly at her persistence before turning back to Abhir. “Just focus on resting young man. You’re in good hands.” With that, he gave Charu a last nod before leaving the room, the nurse following him out.

As soon as the door shut, the air in the room shifted.

Abhir, still groggy from the painkillers, watched Charu  stepping closer through the haze clouding his mind.

His vision blurred at the edges, but he saw the hesitation in her eyes, the way she lingered just a step away, as if caught in an invisible battle.

Her words—the ones she had whispered when she thought he was lost in unconsciousness—echoed through his mind.

"I’m falling for you."

Had she really said it? Or was his mind playing tricks on him?

Too dazed to make sense of it, Abhir let his eyes close again, the exhaustion pulling him under once more. His eyelids grew heavy, and he slipped back into sleep.

Even as he drifted back into sleep, that one phrase burned itself into his subconscious, refusing to fade.

Charu let out a slow breath, her pulse still unsteady from the weight of her own confession.

She had said it.

Out loud.

And though he might not know, might not have even heard it , a strange lightness filled her chest—like she had finally set something free that had been locked inside for too long.

Her gaze softened as she looked at him—his features relaxed in sleep, his unruly curls a mess against the pillow.

He looked so at peace, so different from the guarded, teasing Abhir she had known.

Something tender unfurled within her.

Reaching out, she let her fingers skim through his curls, an almost instinctive gesture, one she didn’t allow herself to overthink.

A smile ghosted her lips as she traced his hair, as if memorizing the warmth of his skin, the reality of him being here—alive.

A chorus of familiar voices outside the ICU door—Abhira’s urgent tone, Armaan’s firm reassurances, Ruhi’s anxious murmurs—snapped her back to the moment.

They’d be here any second.

She needed to step away.

Steeling herself, she bent down, her lips brushing against his knuckles in the faintest of kisses.

"You sleep peacefully, Abhi," she whispered, the words a promise, a quiet vow meant only for him. "I'll be waiting for you when you wake up."

Then, before she lost the courage to walk away, she turned on her heel and slipped outside, leaving behind the confession she had no control over anymore.

And for the first time in a long time, Charu felt… lighter.

Freer.

Like the weight of everything she had been holding in had finally been lifted, if only just a little.

---------------------------------

Charu stepped out of the ICU, her heart still thrumming from the weight of her confession.

Leaning against the cold wall, she exhaled deeply, shutting her eyes for a brief moment.

She had never thought saying it out loud would feel like this.

For weeks, she had been fighting her feelings, shoving them into the deepest corners of her mind, refusing to acknowledge them.

But there, in the dim light of the hospital room, with Abhir asleep and unaware, she had finally let the truth slip past her lips.

And now, there was no taking it back.

A familiar voice broke through her thoughts.

"Charu?"

She opened her eyes to see Ruhi standing a few feet away, concern etched into her features.

Behind her, Abhira and Armaan were deep in conversation with the doctor, their expressions serious.

Charu straightened, forcing herself to mask whatever turmoil still lingered within her. "Yeah?"

Ruhi stepped closer, her sharp eyes scanning Charu’s face. "Are you okay?"

Charu almost laughed at the question.

Was she okay?

No. Not even close.

But she nodded anyway. "Yeah. Just… relieved that he’s out of danger."

Ruhi didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t push.

Instead, she placed a gentle hand on Charu’s arm. "Come sit. You’ve barely eaten anything."

"I'm not hungry."

"You’re never hungry." Ruhi sighed, crossing her arms. "Charu, this isn't just about Abhir, is it?"

Charu's breath hitched.

For a second, she wondered if Ruhi knew.

If somehow, some way, her bhabhi had read the truth in her eyes, heard the confession echoing in the air even though it had been spoken in whispers.

But Ruhi simply frowned. "You’ve been acting different. Ever since—" She hesitated, then lowered her voice. "Ever since Abhir got hurt. You’ve been… distant."

Distant.

Charu almost scoffed.

If anything, she had never felt closer to someone in her entire life.

Instead of answering, she looked past Ruhi, her eyes falling on the ICU door. Thinking about the man inside.

She could still hear the steady beep of the monitors, still see the way his fingers had twitched slightly in his sleep, as if even in unconsciousness, he was trying to reach for something.

For her.

Shaking her head, she pulled away from Ruhi’s grasp. "I just need some air."

Before Ruhi could stop her, Charu turned and walked down the corridor.

For the first time in what felt like forever, she wasn’t weighed down by the usual chaos in her head.

Instead, there was a quiet kind of joy humming inside her, a lightness in her steps as she made her way down the empty corridor.

She wasn’t sure when it had happened—when the sharp, stubborn emotions she harbored for him had softened into something gentler, something that made her heart skip a beat instead of clench in frustration.

Flashes of her moments with Abhir played in her mind like a film reel, making her smile wider.

The first time she had met him properly, when he had teased her mercilessly about her no-nonsense attitude,  with that annoying smirk of his.

She had glared at him, firing back with some snarky remark—but she had never forgotten how his eyes had twinkled with mischief, like he enjoyed getting under her skin.

The way he always had a comeback ready, effortlessly frustrating her yet making her feel more alive than she had in years.

And now… now, there was no pretending.

She was falling for him. And it didn’t feel like a mistake.

Charu let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head at herself.

Who would have thought?

That she—Charu Bansal, the practical, level-headed, emotionally guarded lawyer—would ever find herself smiling like a fool, reminiscing about moments that once frustrated her but now made her heart race.

The mere thought made her heart flutter in a way that was both thrilling and terrifying.

Lost in her own world, she barely noticed when she stepped outside onto the hospital balcony, where the cool night air greeted her.

The city lights stretched endlessly before her, twinkling like tiny promises.

She closed her eyes, breathing it all in—the moment, the freedom, the realization that she had said what her heart had been trying to do for weeks.

No more second-guessing.

No more holding back.

The thought sent another rush of warmth through her, a giddy kind of happiness she wasn’t used to feeling so freely.

For the first time in a long time, she wasn’t fighting her emotions.

She wasn’t holding back.

And damn, it felt good.

Charu smiled—truly, deeply, and without restraint.

She loved him.

And for once, instead of running from it, she let herself feel it.