Amara's POV:
After all the checkups, we headed back to my home. He stayed quiet, lost somewhere in his own thoughts.
"You're here?" I asked softly, hoping to ease the silence.
Still nothing. For the first time since I'd known him, my words didn't bring even the smallest reply. That silence alone told me how much he was carrying inside.
He stopped the car at the corner, turning toward me. His eyes held emotions I couldn't name, but they reached me all the same.
"Ama…" His voice trembled, breaking the silence. "Please… take care."
"I won't survive it, Ama. If anything ever happened to you… it would destroy me," he choked out, his eyes shining with unshed tears. His hands tightened on the steering wheel, as if holding himself together was the only thing he could do.
I never knew someone could be this fragile for the one they loved until he came into my life. The way he notices every little thing about me, the way he shields me from the smallest discomforts—it's a love anyone would dream of. But when I see him break like this over even the thought of losing me, it terrifies me. What if I'm not around him? What if something really happens to me?
"Vihaan…" I whispered, cupping his cheeks and forcing him to look at me. "I'm okay. Nothing serious."
He closed his eyes under my touch, and I could feel the weight of his fear trembling through him.
"I know it was sudden," I added gently, "but there's nothing to worry about. I'm right here—in front of you, healthy and happy."
I tried to smile, hoping it would reach his heart and soothe the storm in his eyes.
"Vihaan…" I whispered, brushing away the tear clinging to his lashes. "Listen to me. Even if—" my voice faltered, but I forced myself to finish, "—even if something ever happened to me, the world wouldn't stop. You would have to keep going. You'd have to live, just as gracefully as you do now."
His head snapped up, eyes wild with pain. "Stop—don't say that!" His voice shook, rising sharper than I'd ever heard it. "You don't understand, Ama. I can't just 'go on.' I can't breathe without you—how do you expect me to live?"
"Vihaan—"
"No!" His denial tore through the air. He gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white, then suddenly let go, burying his face in his hands. His shoulders trembled, the weight of his fear finally breaking him down. "I don't want to be strong. I don't want to imagine a life where you're not here. I'd rather shatter into pieces than learn to survive without you."
My chest tightened as I reached for him, pulling his hands away from his face. His eyes were red, his breaths uneven. I cupped his cheeks firmly, forcing him to meet my gaze.
"Vihaan," I said softly but steadily, "you have to be stronger than this. Life doesn't stop for anyone, not for me, not for you. Promise me, if anything ever happens, you'll keep living."
Tears slipped down his face as he shook his head desperately. Then, in a broken whisper, he collapsed against me, his forehead pressing into my shoulder. "Don't ask me that, Ama. Please… don't ask me that. I can't."
I held him tightly, letting his weight sink into me, his breaths ragged against my shoulder. His entire body trembled, as though the fear inside him had finally broken free after being caged for too long.
"Vihaan…" I murmured, stroking the back of his head, "you don't have to be strong right now. Just… let it out."
He clung to me harder, his fingers gripping my arms as if I were the only thing keeping him from falling apart completely. Each shuddering breath cut through me, yet I held him firmer, anchoring him with every touch.
Minutes slipped by in silence, broken only by the sound of his breathing. Slowly, gradually, the sharp tremors in his shoulders eased, his chest finding its rhythm again.
I leaned back just enough to see his face. His eyes were red, lashes wet, but there was a softness in them now—fragile, wounded, yet calmer. I wiped his tears gently with my thumb.
"You don't have to promise me anything right now," I whispered. "Just… promise me you'll let me be your strength when yours runs out."
His lips parted, trembling, but he nodded faintly. "Ama…" His voice cracked again, but this time it was softer, almost childlike. "Don't leave me. Not ever."
I pressed my forehead against his, holding his gaze steady. "I'm right here. And I'm not going anywhere."
For the first time since the storm began, his lips curved—faint, broken, but a smile nonetheless. I kissed his forehead, sealing his fear with warmth, hoping he would feel what my words could never hold.
And in that moment, I realized love isn't only about the grand gestures or the happiness it brings—it's also about the fears it awakens. To be loved so deeply is both a gift and a weight, but if bearing that weight means being his shelter, I would carry it again and again.
I leaned back a little to see his face, and in that moment, I realized how much control we had over each other—how deeply we could hurt and heal one another.
"Now, good," I said softly, a small smile tugging at my lips.
He nodded, his own lips curving faintly in return, fragile but steadier than before.
"Then… tell me why you wanted to meet me?" I asked, sensing the tension easing around us.
He reached over to the glove compartment and started rummaging through the drawers. After a moment, he pulled out a few papers and handed them to me.
"These are the reports," he said quietly. "And if the speculations are correct, it was a well‑planned murder. Your father was forced to transfer all his assets to Liam. When he refused, they killed him—and your mother."
My fingers tightened on the papers as his words settled like stones in my chest.
"I kept wondering," he continued, "why, even after knowing you're alive and a potential danger to them, they never touched you. But now it's clear. You were unaware of the murder. And now, because you're digging into it, you've become a threat to them."
"And?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Now we have enough proof to drag them into court," he said, still holding something back. "So if you…" His voice trailed off, the unfinished question hanging heavy between us.
"Yes," I said softly, already knowing what he was trying to ask. "Do whatever feels right. Just… be safe. They're not going to back down easily."
His eyes searched mine for a heartbeat, the papers still trembling slightly in his hands.
"Then we'll file the case against them. Ama… it will be tough, I won't lie. Liam has a well‑rooted image in the business world, but I promise I will never let them win." His voice was firm, but the strain around his eyes gave him away.
"I know," I replied, folding the papers into my lap. "But you should know one thing: if Liam can kill his own blood for money, he can do anything. If we win, I'll be the happiest person alive—but not at the cost of you." I looked at him, every word deliberate. "So please—take care. Never hesitate to back off if it gets too dangerous. Promise me that."
He swallowed, fingers tightening on the edge of the seat. "I promise," he said, though the promise trembled. "I'll do everything—everything—to see this through. But I'll be careful. For you."