Replaced Wife of my first love

Chapter 31

Siya pov:

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the backyard, I stood in front of my shattered sculpture, my emotions in turmoil. Zian, approached slowly, his eyes filled with remorse.

My voice was trembling when I said, "I can't believe you broke it, Zian. That sculpture was so important to me. It represented months of hard work and emotions."

Zian face was regretful, "I know, Siya, and I'm truly sorry. It was an accident. I didn't mean to destroy something you cared about so much."

My eyes were getting teary "An accident? You should have been more careful!"

Zian was defensive and said "I do care, Siya!."

I was now frustrated with him now and said, "It's my passion, Zian. It's what keeps me going, and you should understand that!"

Zian softly said, "I do understand, but sometimes I feel like-"

I cut him in between and said, "When you broke that sculpture, it felt like you didn't respect that part of who I am."

Zian remorsefully said, "I didn't mean to disrespect you or your art."

I took a pause and said, " But breaking my sculpture was like breaking a piece of my heart." As I said he didn't say anything further more.

I sat in the dimly lit room, my heart heavy with unresolved emotions after the argument with Zian. The clock ticked loudly, the silence between us deafening. We both were ignoring each other the whole day until Dadi called us in her room.

Zian and I stood there, our faces taut with unresolved emotions, Dadi approached us with a knowing smile. "Come here, both of you," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "It's time to sort this out."

Reluctantly, we followed her to the cosy sitting area. My heart was still pounding from the heated argument we had just a few hours ago, and I couldn't help but wonder what our wise grandmother had in mind.

"Sit down," she instructed, pointing to the two chairs placed close together. We obeyed, though we couldn't look each other in the eye just yet.

Our grandmother retrieved a soft, knitted red scarf from a nearby shelf and stood between us. "Give me your hands," she said, extending her palms towards us. We hesitated, but our grandmother's gentle insistence broke down our defences.

She took Zian's hand in hers and then clasped my hand on top, effectively connecting us. "Now, hold on tightly," she advised with a hint of playfulness in her voice.

As we gripped each other's hands, I could feel the warmth emanating from Zian's touch. It was a strange mixture of comfort and vulnerability, reminding me of the deep bond we shared despite our disagreements.

"Remember the day you got married?" our grandmother asked, her eyes soft and nostalgic. "You were inseparable, always holding hands like this."

A bittersweet smile tugged at the corners of my lips as memories flooded my mind. Our grandmother's voice grew serious as she continued, "Life will always throw challenges your way, but it's how you face them together that matters. Holding onto each other's hands is a symbol of unity and support. It reminds you that you're a team, and no matter what happens, you'll face it together."

Tears welled up in my eyes as her words struck a chord within me. She was right. We were a team, and letting go of each other's hands in the face of adversity wasn't the answer.

"I know you two love each other deeply," my grandmother said, her gaze moving between us. "But love isn't always smooth sailing. It requires effort and understanding. So, promise me that you'll keep holding on, no matter what."