"When you feel my heat
Look into my eyes
It's where my demons hide
It's where my demons hide
Don't get too close
It's dark inside
It's where my demons hide
It's where my demons hide"
~Demons - Imagine Dragons
~Next morning~
I woke up to sunlight streaming through unfamiliar windows.
For a moment, I panicked—where was I? Then I remembered. The guest room. The penthouse. Aadyant staying with me until I fell asleep.
My phone showed it was past ten. Seventeen missed calls from Bua. Three from unknown numbers. And one text from Aadyant:
Aadyant: Whenever you're ready, there's coffee and breakfast. No rush. Take your time.
I should go home. Should face my mother. Should deal with this.
But the thought made my chest tight.
I got up, washed my face, tried to make myself look less like someone who'd cried themselves to sleep.
Failed.
In the kitchen, I found Aadya making pancakes.
"Morning," she said gently. "Hungry?"
"Not really."
"Coffee?"
"Please."
She poured me a cup, made exactly how I liked it. "Aadyant's on the balcony if you want to talk. Or you can sit here with me in silence. Your choice."
I took my coffee and went to find Aadyant.
~
She looked exhausted. Beautiful, but exhausted.
"Hey," I said as she joined me on the balcony. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I got hit by a truck. But alive." She sat down, pulling her knees to her chest. "Thank you for last night. For letting me stay."
"You don't have to thank me. You're always welcome here."
We sat in silence for a moment, the city waking up below us.
"I have to tell you something," Kashvi said finally. "About what happened. About why my parents—why I'm like this."
My heart started pounding. "Okay. I'm listening."
"But I need you to promise me something first."
"Anything."
"Promise me you won't look at me differently. Promise me that after I tell you, you won't—" Her voice broke. "You won't see me as damaged. Or broken. Or—"
"Kashvi." I turned to face her fully. "Nothing you tell me is going to change how I see you. Nothing is going to change the fact that I love you. I promise."
She took a shaky breath. Looked out at the city. And started talking.
~
"Three years ago, I was fourteen. Living in Delhi with my parents. I didn't really have friends—never had been good at making them. People always used me or betrayed me or just... didn't care. So I was alone a lot. Which was fine. I had my guitar, my books, my designs. I was okay."
I paused, gathering courage.
"My parents were fine at first. Normal, I guess. But around the time I turned fourteen, things shifted. They became distant. Critical. I found out later they were having financial problems and marital issues, but at the time, I just thought I'd done something wrong. That I wasn't good enough."
Aadyant's hand found mine. Squeezed gently.
"Then one night, I had a late coaching class. For entrance exams. I was walking home—it wasn't far, maybe fifteen minutes. But I took a shortcut through this quieter area." My voice started shaking. "Three men. They grabbed me. Dragged me into an alley."
I felt Aadyant tense beside me, but he didn't interrupt.
"They—they hurt me. Beat me. Tried to—" I couldn't say the word. "Someone heard me screaming. A shopkeeper called the police. Someone else intervened. They stopped before—before they could—"
"Kashvi." Aadyant's voice was rough.
"The men were arrested. Turns out they'd done this before to other girls. I was hospitalized for two weeks. Physical injuries were bad but healed. The psychological damage was worse."
Tears were streaming down my face now, but I kept going. Had to get it all out.
"And my parents. Instead of supporting me, they—they made me feel like it was my fault. Like I'd brought shame to the family. They whispered when they thought I couldn't hear. Looked at me like I was something broken. Something to be hidden away."
"They were worried about their reputation. About what people would say. About whether I'd be 'marriageable' after this." I laughed bitterly. "I was fourteen and traumatized, and they were worried about my marriage prospects."
Aadyant was crying. Silent tears running down his face.
"They sent me to Bua. Said it was to help me heal, but really it was to get me out of sight. Out of mind. And I tried, Aadyant. I tried so hard to be okay. But I wasn't. I had nightmares every night. Panic attacks constantly. Couldn't eat. Couldn't sleep. Couldn't function."
"Eight months after I got here, I took an entire bottle of anti-anxiety medication and slit my wrist. I left a note. I meant to die. But Bua found me in time. Rushed me to the hospital. I spent three days there, then two weeks in a psychiatric ward."
"And my parents? They never came. Never even called. Bua begged them to at least check on me, but they said it was 'better to give me space.' Like I'd tried to kill myself because I needed space, not because I felt worthless and alone."
I was sobbing now, the words pouring out three years of pain.
"So I started therapy. Got on medication. Learned coping mechanisms. Eventually enrolled in school again, then applied to colleges. Built this new life where I pretended the old one didn't exist. Where I pretended I was whole."
"But I'm not whole, Aadyant. I'm broken in ways I don't know how to fix. I have panic attacks. I can't handle sudden loud noises or unexpected touch. I push people away because I'm terrified of being hurt again. I—"
"Stop." His voice was firm but gentle. "Stop calling yourself broken."
"But I am—"
"No. You're not." He pulled me into his arms, and I collapsed against him. "You're a survivor. You're someone who went through hell and came out the other side. You're someone who fights every single day to keep going even when it's hard. That's not broken, Kashvi. That's the strongest thing I've ever seen."
"You don't understand—"
"I understand that you were let down by every person who should have protected you. Your parents. Your peers. A world that tells survivors it's somehow their fault. But that doesn't make you broken. It makes them failures."
He pulled back, cupping my face so I had to look at him.
"What happened to you was not your fault. Not even a little bit. And your parents' failure to support you says everything about them and nothing about you."
"But I'm so messed up—"
"You're healing. There's a difference. And healing isn't linear. Some days you're going to be okay, and some days you're going to struggle. That's normal. That's human."
"How can you still love me? Knowing all this?"
"How could I not?" He wiped away my tears. "Kashvi, you've been carrying this alone for three years. Dealing with trauma and grief and betrayal, and you're still here. Still trying. Still believing enough in the possibility of good things to let me into your life. That's not weakness. That's courage."
I broke down completely then. Sobbed against his chest while he held me, whispering reassurances and promises.
"I've got you. You're not alone anymore. I'm here. I'm staying. I love you. Nothing changes that."
~
They stayed on the balcony for over an hour. Kashvi cried out three years of bottled pain. Aadyant held her through it all, his own tears falling silently.
Eventually, they went inside. Aadya took one look at them and started making hot chocolate—her solution to everything.
"She told me," Aadyant said quietly while Kashvi was in the bathroom.
"Everything?"
"Everything."
"And?"
"And I want to fly to India and have a very long conversation with her parents about what they did to their daughter." His voice was cold with rage.
"But you won't."
"But I won't. Because it's not my place. It's Kashvi's healing to navigate."
Aadya hugged her brother. "You really love her."
"More than anything."
When Kashvi came back, they sat together on the couch. Kashvi between the twins, feeling safer than she had in years.
"What do you want to do?" Aadyant asked gently. "About your mom being here?"
"I don't know. Part of me wants to hear her out. But another part never wants to see her again."
"Both those feelings are valid."
"How do I decide?"
"You give yourself time. You don't have to make any decisions today. Your mom can wait. She made you wait three years—she can wait a few more days while you figure out what you need."
~
I stayed at the penthouse all day. Aadya made comfort food. We watched movies. The twins treated me like I was precious, fragile but strong.
Around evening, my phone rang. Bua.
"Beta, how are you?"
"I'm okay. I'm at the twins' place."
"Good. Good. I'm glad you're with friends." She paused. "Your mother wants to talk to you. When you're ready. No pressure."
"Is she still there?"
"She got a hotel. But Kashvi—she's not leaving until she talks to you. She's determined."
"I don't know if I can face her."
"You don't have to. Not yet. Not until you're ready. But maybe—maybe eventually, you should hear what she has to say. Not for her sake. For yours. So you can decide if there's anything worth salvaging."
After we hung up, I looked at Aadyant. "She wants to talk. My mom."
"Do you want to?"
"I don't know. Maybe? Not today. But... eventually?"
"Then eventually it is. There's no timeline here, Kashvi. You get to decide."
"Will you come with me? When I'm ready?"
"Of course. I'll be right there."
That night, lying in the guest bed, I felt something shift. The weight I'd been carrying for three years felt lighter. Not gone—it would probably never be fully gone. But manageable.
I'd told someone. I'd shared my deepest pain, my darkest moment. And they hadn't run. Hadn't looked at me with pity or disgust.
Aadyant loved me. Despite everything. Maybe even because of everything—because all of it made me who I was.
And for the first time since I was fourteen years old, I felt like maybe I could actually heal.
Not because I was fixing myself to be worthy of love.
But because I was loved exactly as I was.
~
FOLLOW ME!! 😄
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