Page 171 of Sumanika

But even among my family, I felt an emptiness. I couldn’t find her; she wasn’t around. I could sense that she was distancing herself from me. Part of me felt guilty for making her feel that way, while another part feared she might feel the same.

Suddenly, Rudraja began to cry in Ranvijay Bhaisa’s arms, and I took her in my arms.

"Maybe she is hungry," I said, and Rudra Bhaisa said.

"She is hungry. It's her feeding time,"

"Lullllllll, taaaaataaaaaaaa," she yelled at Rudra Bhaisa in frustration. Hearing her, all I could do was laugh.

"Baapusa bola karo, pitayi hogi varna aapki,"“Call me Baapusa, or you will be slapped,” Rudra Bhaisa said, cupping her cheeks. She shook her head and smiled, showing her teeth.

“Alright, my little princess, let’s take you to your mother,” I said as she rested her head on my shoulder, singing softly. I couldn’t understand the words.

When I arrived at Bhabhisa’s chamber, I attempted to call her to request permission to enter. She invited me in, and I informed her that Rudraja was hungry.

She held Rudraja in her arms and blurted.

"Suman, can you bring some warm water, please,"

My heartbeats stopped, and I turned to notice Suman standing a little away from us, her face opposite.

I gulped nervously as she turned towards me. She didn’t even glance in my direction, and I felt an ache.

She nodded before silently walking away, and I couldn’t help but follow her.

The gallery was empty, with only a few attendees drifting into other areas. Everyone was engaged in the gathering. She was hurrying, and I could sense her falling apart at any moment.

My hands ached to hold her tightly in my arms and tell her everything I wanted to express. I wanted to apologize for all the pain she felt because of me.

I jogged a bit and slowed down to match her steps. I took a deep breath before grasping her wrist. She visibly shivered, and I felt her shrink away from my touch.

My heart heaved as she turned back to look at me. Her eyes reddened when they met mine. My hand wrapped around her waist. She blinked nervously. The pain was etched on her face, the silence thick with it. She hesitated, shrinking into me.

I lifted her into my arms, sensing her slight trembling. Her eyes widened a bit, and I pulled her closer to my chest, tightening my grip to hug her.

The feeling of her fingers fisting into my hair, pulling me closer, and pressing into me, broke me into crying. She broke into tears as well before murmuring slowly against my neck in her shaky voice.

“I hate you so much,” she said, tightening her fingers in my hair. I closed my eyes, surrendering. Her warmth calmed, held, and healed me, and I felt frustrated knowing I could not exist without her.

“I hate you so fucking much,” I muttered back. My voice had grown hoarse and dry from crying, and I glanced at the attendees watching us.

I sucked in a sharp breath and turned my feet to take her to my chamber.

Before I entered the chamber, I signaled the guards standing outside not to disturb us.

It was clean and scented with fresh fragrances.

She cried even more, and I tried to calm her down.

"Shhhh, calm down," I begged, sitting on the bed. She straightened up and cupped my cheek in her hands.

"Hume Kshama kar diye, Kunwarsa, humse galti ho gayi. Hum aapko dard nahi dena chahte the,"“Please forgive me… Kunwarsa, I made a mistake. I never meant to hurt you,” she sobbed even harder. Her voice was strained and hoarse.

I shook my head and held her tightly in my arms.

"No, please do not cry," I whispered over her face and wiped her tears. She shook her head.

"I am sorry, I am so sorry," her voice broke.

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