Target: 500 views, 130 votes, and 70 comments.

I know, the target was fulfilled yesterday; and I am updating today, now. It's because I was getting too emotional while writing this chapter. Yeah! I fucking cried in the middle of the night while writing. Get some tissues before reading this chapter. 🤧🧻🧻

"Love doesn't just heal wounds; it exposes them, forcing us to confront the broken pieces we thought we could hide forever."

"CAN I take him home now?" Sana asked, her voice calm, though her chest felt heavy with the weight of everything that had just happened.

"Of course," the officer said, handing her Sidharth's car keys, wallet, and phone. "Here."

"Thank you," she said quietly, her fingers trembling slightly as she took the items from him.

The officer paused, studying her for a moment. "If you'd like, I can have someone escort you both home. It's late, and you came by yourself."

Sana shook her head with a polite smile. "No, thank you. I'll be fine. But... could someone help me get him to the car?"

The officer nodded. "Of course," he said, signaling to a constable nearby. Together, they carefully lifted Sidharth and guided him to the backseat of his car. He slumped against the door, his head lolling to the side, completely out of it.

Sana slid into the driver's seat, gripping the steering wheel tightly. She made a mental note to come back for her scooter later. Right now, her only priority was getting him home safely.

As she was about to leave, the officer spoke again. "If you don't mind me asking... who is he to you?"

Sana froze for a second, her eyes drifting to Sidharth through the rearview mirror. A small, tender smile tugged at her lips as she whispered, "My everything."

The officer gave her a knowing nod, stepping aside. "Drive safe."

Sana nodded back. "Thank you again, for everything."

"Just doing my job," the officer replied with a faint smile. "But honestly, I wasn't going to hurt him. I just wanted to scare him a little, that's all. He's a tough guy-and a lucky one, too, to have someone like you."

Sana felt her cheeks warm, and she dropped her gaze to her lap. "I should go," she murmured.

"Yes. Take care."

The streets were eerily quiet as Sana drove through the city, glancing at Sidharth every so often in the mirror. His head lolled slightly as the car moved, his normally sharp features softened by sleep-or unconsciousness, in this case.

She exhaled, frustration bubbling beneath her breath. "You're impossible," she muttered, her voice a mix of anger and affection. "But you're mine."

It took her half an hour to reach his house. As she approached the big iron gates, the security guard came out to open them, his expression unreadable. He watched as she drove in and parked in the driveway. After locking the gates behind them, the guard followed her to help with Sidharth.

Sana hesitated for a moment. Initially, she thought about taking him to his bedroom, but the idea didn't sit right with her. His bedroom was his private space, and she didn't want to overstep any boundaries without his consent. He hated people invading his space.

"The activity room will do," she decided.

"Second room upstairs," she instructed the guard.

The guard nodded and hoisted Sidharth up, carrying him toward the staircase. Sana followed closely, her steps hesitant. As they passed the first room, curiosity got the better of her.

"Um... where is his room?" she asked softly.

"Last room on the left," the guard replied.

"Oh," she mumbled, glancing toward the closed door at the end of the hall. "And this one?" she asked, pointing to the first door they passed.

"His parents' room," the guard answered.

"And the second one?" she gestured to the room they were heading into.

"This one?" The guard paused briefly before responding. "This was Sidharth sir's old room. He stayed here until he turned eighteen."

The guard carefully placed Sidharth on the bed, then turned to Sana, waiting for further instructions.

"Thank you. You can leave now," she said softly.

The guard nodded and left the room. Sana quickly locked the door behind him, her chest tightening. She didn't know the guard very well, only recognizing him from her visits on the weekends. Sidharth had already warned her to be cautious around him.

Trusting people these days was no easy task.

Sana sighed and turned her attention back to Sidharth. She always admired how protective he was of her. He often reminded her to be cautious, and recently, he'd even offered to pick her up every weekend so she wouldn't have to come to his house alone. She remembered how protective he'd been when a random guy had followed her after college a few months ago.

"And here he says he doesn't care about me. Nonsense," she muttered, a small smile playing on her lips.

Her gaze shifted around the room. "So, this was your old room, huh?" she murmured, her tone laced with curiosity.

It wasn't the first time she'd been in this room, but now that she knew it had been his, everything felt different-more personal.

"You've got a nice room," she said softly, her cheeks flushing as a thought crossed her mind. "So, basically, we do all our activities in your room," she whispered, biting her lip.

Her attention returned to Sidharth, slumped on the bed in his crumpled black T-shirt and leather jacket, his legs awkwardly sprawled out. She knelt down to remove his shoes and socks, hesitating as she stared at his clothes.

"They must be uncomfortable to sleep in," she whispered, frowning.

"Should I change them?" she pouted, conflicted. "No... no, no. He'll kill me," she muttered, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Her frustration bubbled to the surface as she looked at him. "I'm really mad at you, you know that? Just because I said 'no,' you went to a bar and got drunk? And you were driving while drinking vodka? What's wrong with you? Are you a baby?" Her voice was sharp, but the anger melted away as she looked at his peaceful face.

For a moment, she just stared at him, her heart softening. He looked so serene, almost childlike.

"You even look... cute," she admitted, a small smile tugging at her lips. She had to fight the urge to pinch his cheeks.

Instead, she leaned down and kissed his hand. "I wanted to kiss your cheek, but your hand will do," she whispered.

Her eyes caught on his leather jacket, and she sighed. "I can at least take off the jacket, right?" she reasoned.

"Don't be mad at me. I'm helping you to sleep comfortably. I'm a good girl...friend." She giggled.

Gently, she tugged at the collar, carefully pulling it down his arms. It was more difficult than she anticipated. He was heavy and big, but she managed. Tossing the jacket to the floor, she grabbed a duvet and began to cover him.

That's when her eyes caught something that froze her in place.

Cut marks.

Her breath hitched as her eyes locked onto the thin, angry scars etched into his left wrist. Not one, but several. Her chest tightened painfully.

"No," she whispered, her throat constricting. Tears blurred her vision as the realization hit her like a punch to the gut.

He'd hurt himself.

Unable to bear the sight, she backed out of the room, shutting the door quietly behind her. She leaned against the wall outside, her legs giving out as she sank to the floor. Silent tears turned into heart-wrenching sobs.

"You lied to me," she choked out, clutching her chest. "You told me you only thought about hurting yourself. But you did. You actually did it."

Her sobs grew louder as the memories of their past conversations resurfaced. "My nightmare wasn't a lie... it was real. It did it. You had hurt yourself."

"Why? Why would you do that to yourself? Hah?" She cried bitterly. "I trusted you damnit. I trusted your words. Why did you lie?"

Wiping her tears, she straightened up, determination flaring in her chest. "No. You can't keep lying to me. Hiding stuff from me. You need to answer me, Sidharth. Even if you don't like it, you will have to tell me why you did it?"

Sana went downstairs to the kitchen to drink some water. Upon reaching there, she turned on the lights and started looking for water. Not finding any jug or bottle, she opened the fridge.

She found a water bottle there-plenty of them.

"There you are," she muttered. Just as she was about to grab one, her eyes caught sight of the leftover food kept in glass casseroles. Through the clear glass, she could see what was inside.

The food he used to serve her once: grilled chicken breast, plain pasta with lightly sautéed vegetables, and fruits.

"He eats these?" The thought crossed her mind as she quickly grabbed the casserole of pasta and a bottle of water, closing the fridge door behind her.

She took a sip of water and then opened the casserole to check the food. Grabbing a fork, she took a bite to taste it. As expected, it was far too bland for her liking. She closed the casserole and put it back in the fridge.

"Why does he eat like this?" she wondered aloud, confused. "Can't he eat something normal? Or maybe... he can't eat spicy food like me?"

"Ugh! There are only questions, no answers!" She groaned in irritation, holding her head. "But that doesn't mean I won't find out. I'll ask him, and he has to answer me-about a lot of things," she added, her voice filled with determination.

She went back upstairs, turning off the kitchen lights and carrying the water bottle with her. Returning to the room, she locked the door behind her and placed the water bottle on the nightstand before standing near the bed.

"Why are you like this, Sidharth? Why are you so mysterious? No, actually, you're secretive. Why is that?" she asked, her gaze fixed on his unconscious figure.

"Do you have any idea how much it hurts me when you act like a jerk? Or indifferent? Or when you pretend as if you don't care about me? Or that there's nothing between us?" A silent sob escaped her lips, and she quickly covered her mouth to muffle the sound.

"Don't do this. Stop acting like a jerk," she whispered, but another sob broke free. She covered her mouth more tightly, trying to hold it in.

"Accept what you feel for me. Tell me what's bothering you. Please." Unable to control her emotions any longer, she ran into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.

She cried her heart out, sitting on the toilet seat. After half an hour, she washed her face to sober up and came back out.

Grabbing a pillow from the bed, she lay down on the couch, facing him. "You always make me cry. You always hurt me. But I still can't live without you, Sidharth," she whispered, silent tears rolling down her cheeks as her throat tightened.

"I know I sound toxic. People might call me an idiot for not letting you go, for not leaving you already. But I can't. I can't leave you. If I do, I know you'll become alone. Again. So please, stop hurting me, alright? Let's prove people wrong, even though there's no one who knows about us. Yeah? Good night," she said softly, closing her eyes as tears continued to fall.

But sleep didn't come. Her heart felt restless. After a few moments, she got up and walked over to the bed, crawling in and laying down next to him. She gently held his hand, bringing it close to her chest.

"I don't know what you've been through, Sidharth. If you've ever been loved or not. But I promise, if you let me in, I won't judge you or leave you. I'll try to understand you," she whispered, kissing his hand tenderly.

"I love you, Sidharth. I love you more than anything in this world. Just let me in. Let me love you. I know you're not a bad person. Something made you like this. I know," she said, her voice trembling as silent tears streamed down her cheeks.

"But, baby, you need to let me in. You need to tell me... everything," she whispered, her tears falling faster. "So that I can help you. Understand you," she added, kissing his hand again.

She lay there beside him, holding his hand, her heart heavy with hope and pain, as sleep finally claimed her.

Her sleep didn't last long. The faint sound of soft whimpers and muffled whispers stirred her awake. Startled, Sana jerked up, sitting upright on the bed. Her eyes fell on Sidharth, and what she saw sent a shiver down her spine.

He was whimpering in his sleep, his face contorted with fear, sweat trickling down his temples. His breathing was uneven, almost gasping, as though he was fighting some invisible force.

Sana froze, her heart pounding against her chest. For a moment, she couldn't process what was happening. She sat there in shock, unable to look away from him as he trembled and mumbled incomprehensible words in a muffled voice.

"He's having a nightmare," she whispered, the realization hitting her like a wave.

Instinctively, she reached out, her hand hovering over his shoulder to wake him. But just as her fingers brushed his skin, his broken voice stopped her dead in her tracks.

"Please! No. Don't... don't hit me," he mumbled, his tone trembling with raw fear.

Her eyes widened in shock. She leaned closer, almost afraid that she had heard him wrong. But the next words shattered her doubt-and her heart.

"Mumma, please... save me. Save me, Mumma!"

Tears filled Sana's eyes. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. The helplessness, the terror in his voice-it was something she had never seen in him before. Her strong, confident Sidharth, who always masked his emotions, now looked so fragile, so broken.

"Sid..." she started to call his name, her voice quivering. But she trailed off, unsure of what to do. His words pierced her again.

"You are a monster!" His tone turned sharp, laced with hate. He was still trapped in his tormenting dream, and she realized this wasn't just a nightmare. It was something much worse.

"It's a night terror," she whispered to herself, the understanding sinking in. He wasn't just dreaming-he was re-living something horrific from his past. Sana's chest tightened. She had read somewhere that waking someone during a night terror could do more harm than good. She had to wait. She had to let him fight through it on his own, no matter how much it tore her apart to see him like this.

"Mumma! Save me, Mumma," he whimpered again, his voice breaking as his hand clenched the bedsheet.

Sana's tears fell freely now. She grabbed his hand and clutched it tightly to her chest, as if her hold alone could shield him from his pain. Her fingers trembled as she gently caressed the back of his hand, her own silent sobs muffled by her other hand.

"Oh, God! What do I do?" she cried softly, feeling utterly helpless. She wanted nothing more than to pull him out of his torment, to shield him from whatever haunted him so deeply.

His body twitched slightly, his face contorting in fear as more muffled words left his lips. Sana leaned closer, listening, but his whispers were incoherent now, broken pieces of a memory too painful to confront.

"I'm here," she murmured, her voice shaky but determined. "I don't know what you've been through, Sidharth, but I'm here. I'm not leaving you. I promise."

She pressed his hand to her cheek, her tears dampening his skin. As his mumbling softened, his body seemed to relax slightly, though his breathing remained labored. Sana stayed by his side, her heart breaking for him.

"I'll stay with you," she whispered. "Through all of it. You're not alone anymore."

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