Chapter 52

Abhimanyu

Subhi didn’t let go.

I waited for her to move away, to say something awkward to break the moment, to remind me—intentionally or not—that this was temporary. That this warmth, this feeling of not being alone, wasn’t something meant to last for me.

But she didn’t.

She just stayed, her head resting against my shoulder like she belonged there, like I wasn’t a mess of broken pieces she had to be careful around. And for the first time in a long, long while, I let myself believe—just a little—that maybe I didn’t have to be alone in this.

I didn’t know what scared me more—losing her or letting myself need her.

Her fingers were still loosely curled around mine, and I found myself staring at the contrast—her delicate grip against the tension in my hands, the way she wasn’t trying to force me to let go of my past, just holding on to my present.

“You’re quiet,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

I swallowed, my throat dry. “For once, I don’t know what to say.”

She let out a soft laugh, and the sound settled something inside me. “That’s a first.”

I smirked, shaking my head. “Don’t get used to it.”

She lifted her head slightly, just enough to look at me, and in the dim light, her eyes held something I wasn’t used to seeing directed at me—certainty. “I’m not going anywhere, Abhimanyu.”

Something in my chest clenched. “You say that now.”

“And I’ll say it again tomorrow.” She tilted her head. “And the next day. And the next.”

I wanted to believe her. God, I wanted to.

But the fear, the weight of every loss I had endured, clawed at me. I exhaled sharply, running a hand through my hair. “I don’t want you to promise things you can’t keep.”

“Then I won’t promise.” She held my gaze, unwavering. “I’ll just prove it.”

I stared at her, trying to find a trace of doubt, a sign that she’d realize sooner or later that I wasn’t worth this effort. But she didn’t waver.

She just… stayed.

And as much as I wanted to push her away—to save her from whatever storm I’d bring—I couldn’t. Not when she was the only thing anchoring me right now.

So instead, I did something reckless.

Something I didn’t let myself do often.

I let myself hope.