Unfinished (Some love stories don’t end. They just wait to be written right) - Chapter 8

 

Chapter 8: The Cracks Beneath the Surface

The next day in Jaipur was hotter than expected. The sun glared down on the industrial site as if punishing everyone below it. Construction dust floated in the air. Cement. Sweat. Heat.

Aditi walked beside Aditya with a file in hand, silently reviewing the delivery schedules. They hadn’t spoken a word since the previous night’s conversation — or rather, that almost-confession he had left hanging in the air like an unfinished symphony.

She could feel his presence beside her like a live wire. Tense. Close. Silent.

“Shipment two will arrive at Gate 3,” she said, not looking at him. “After that—”

She stopped.

He was no longer beside her.

She turned around.

Aditya was standing a few steps back, holding onto a steel railing. His face had gone pale — his forehead dotted with sweat, lips pressed tightly together.

“Aditya?” she said sharply.

No response.

His eyes were unfocused, like he was trying to concentrate on something distant and failing.

Then he stumbled.

Aditi ran forward just as he collapsed to one knee.

“Aditya!”

The site workers looked over, startled.

She caught him by the shoulders, guiding him to sit. “What’s happening? Hey—hey, look at me!”

He blinked. His jaw clenched. “I’m fine,” he whispered hoarsely.

“You’re not fine!”

She waved over the assistant. “Get the car ready. Call the hotel. Get the doctor on standby.”

“No,” Aditya said, trying to stand.

Aditi held his arm tightly. “You’re not proving anything by being reckless. Sit still.”

He closed his eyes, breathing through his nose.

“Low blood pressure,” he finally muttered. “It’ll pass. It always does.”

She stared at him.

“Always?” she echoed. “This has happened before?”

He didn’t answer.

She didn’t push — not here.

Back at the Hotel – Later That Evening

The doctor left quietly after giving instructions to rest and hydrate.

Aditi stood by the window of his suite, arms crossed, anger simmering just below the surface.

“You were sick,” she said without looking at him.

“I’m not sick,” he replied from the bed. “Just… a few things out of sync.”

She turned. “This isn’t the flu, Aditya. You fainted at a work site. You look like you haven’t slept in days. You’re hiding something.”

He looked away.

“You’ve always been like this,” she whispered, pacing now. “Silent. Controlling. You think you’re protecting everyone by hiding things. But all you do is push people away.”

He didn’t respond.

She walked closer, her voice trembling. “What is it? What are you not telling me?”

Still silence.

She shook her head and turned to walk away, but his voice stopped her.

“Two years ago,” he said slowly, “I was diagnosed with a neurological condition.”

She froze.

He looked at her. Finally.

“Early-stage. Rare. Small seizures, memory lapses. Dizziness. It came out of nowhere. No one saw it coming.”

She stared at him, speechless.

“I didn't want you to see me fall apart,” he said, voice quieter now. “I didn’t want your pity. Or your sacrifice.”

“You thought I’d leave you if you told me?” she asked.

“No,” he said. “I thought you’d stay.”

That one sentence.
That one truth.
It shattered her.

He continued, eyes on the floor. “I knew you’d give up everything to take care of me. I saw how you were slowly starting to open up. To trust me. And I—”

He swallowed hard. “I couldn’t bear to let that turn into obligation.”

“So you chose silence over honesty?” she asked, voice brittle.

“I chose dignity. Yours and mine.”

Aditi felt the room spinning.

Two years.

Two whole years of silence. Of unhealed wounds. Of unanswered questions.

All because he thought leaving her was noble.

She sat down on the chair across from him, hands trembling.

“You took that decision away from me,” she whispered. “You didn’t even give me the chance to choose.”

“I know,” he said softly. “And I regret it. Every day.”

Their eyes met.

And this time, it wasn’t coldness.

It wasn’t distance.

It was pain.

Raw, silent, shared.

Later That Night

Aditi stood in her own room, staring out at the Jaipur skyline. The pink city below looked peaceful, almost like a painting.

Her phone buzzed.

Message from Aditya:

Thank you. For not walking away today.

She stared at the message for a long time.

Then typed back:

You already made me walk away once.

And hit send.

Her chest ached, but her fingers were steady.

The truth was out.

But the healing?

That was another story altogether.

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