“Because no one should be left alone in the dark,” I said softly.
Slowly, I encouraged him to take small steps. “Hold my hand,” I instructed, and he did, trembling at first. “Take one more,” I urged. He would collapse sometimes, but I always steadied him, massaging his legs afterward.
“You are not afraid?” he asked one evening.
“No,” I replied. “I am only afraid you will give up.”
His eyes, once cold and distant, softened. Nights were filled with quiet conversations about our pasts. “The day she left,” he murmured one evening, “I tried walking for months. Every step reminded me how worthless I was.”
“If someone stayed… would you try again?” I asked gently.
“Maybe,” he replied. That single word struck me deeper than any blow.
One afternoon, Kavita appeared, her sharp voice cutting the air. “I hope you are happy now,” she said. “Remember to send money to your mother. She invested in you, Ananya.”
Before I could respond, Rohan wheeled into the room. He placed a check on the table and said firmly, “Thank you for bringing her into my life. From this moment, you have no claim over her.”