ISHQ-E-MOHABBAT

13. Anklets

Mayura's eyes widened in horror as she took in the sight of Abhimaan standing before her, his hands covered in blood, his knuckles raw and bleeding. She felt a chill run down her spine as she tried to process what she was seeing. Abhimaan's usual calm and composed demeanor was replaced by a fierce intensity, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and guilt.

"Abhimaan, whose blood is this?" Mayura asked, her voice barely above a whisper, her heart racing with fear.

But Abhimaan didn't answer. He just stood there, his eyes fixed on some point beyond her, his chest heaving with ragged breaths.

Mayura took a step forward, her hand reaching out tentatively, but she hesitated, unsure if she should get closer. "Abhimaan, please, tell me what happened," she pleaded, her voice laced with concern.

But Abhimaan remained silent, his gaze still fixed on some distant point.

Mayura's mind raced with worst-case scenarios. Who was hurt? Who was bleeding? And then, a name flashed in her mind, a name .

"Abhimaan, is Rajveer alive?" she asked, her voice barely audible, her eyes fixed on Abhimaan's face, searching for any sign of truth.

Abhimaan's expression changed in an instant. His eyes snapped back into focus, and he looked at Mayura with a mixture of shock and surprise. He nodded, a small, almost imperceptible movement.

Mayura's eyes widened in confusion. "He's alive?" she repeated, her voice laced with disbelief.

Abhimaan's gaze dropped, his eyes fixing on the bloodstained hands in front of him. He took a deep breath, his shoulders squaring as if preparing for a blow.

Mayura's confusion turned to horror as she realized the truth. Abhimaan had tortured Rajveer, and he thought she would be scared of him, that she would turn away in disgust. Even his men had been shocked by his brutality, but Abhimaan had been consumed by his rage.

"You thought I would be scared of you," Mayura said, her voice firm, her eyes locked on Abhimaan's face. "You thought I would turn away, but I won't. I won't leave you, Abhimaan. I won't leave you to face this alone."

Abhimaan's gaze snapped back up, his eyes searching hers, his face etched with a mix of guilt and surprise. He hadn't expected this, hadn't expected Mayura to stand by him, to face the darkness within him.

Mayura's gentle touch and calm demeanor seemed to soothe Abhimaan's frazzled nerves. He didn't resist as she led him to the washroom, his eyes fixed on her face, searching for any sign of fear or revulsion. But Mayura's expression was serene, her eyes filled with a deep understanding and compassion.

She cleaned the blood from his hands, her touch gentle and soothing, as if washing away not just the physical evidence of his brutality, but also the emotional scars that came with it. Abhimaan's gaze never left hers, his eyes locked on her face, as if seeking redemption, seeking forgiveness.

As she finished cleaning his hands, Mayura looked up at him, her eyes locking onto his. "Take a bath, Abhimaan," she said, her voice soft and gentle. "You need to wash away the blood and the pain."

Abhimaan nodded, his eyes still fixed on hers, and began to undress, his movements mechanical, as if he was in a trance. Mayura helped him, her touch gentle, her eyes never leaving his face.

As he stepped into the bath, Mayura turned to leave, but Abhimaan's voice stopped her. "Mayura," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

She turned back to him, her eyes locking onto his. "Yes, Abhimaan?"

Abhimaan's gaze searched hers, his eyes filled with a deep sadness. "Thank you," he said, his voice cracking with emotion. "Thank you for not leaving me."