Chapter 37- The Courage to Confront

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(Morning)
The events of the previous night still lingered in my thoughts, leaving a trace of unease within me.

As I approached the parking area, a glimpse of black cars came into view, standing in stark contrast to the vibrant surroundings.

These vehicles were unmistakably Akshay's, a constant presence that followed my every move.

I willed myself not to be swayed by their presence, pushing aside any apprehension that threatened to surface.

Resolutely, I went forward on my journey. The passing scenery seemed to blur as my mind wrestled with the weight of Akshay's confession.

(Office)

Engrossed in daily tasks, I sought refuge within the realms of productivity, channeling my energy into the work that demanded my attention.

(Home)

Amid this calm, at night, my phone rang.

Mia's calling...

Her name illuminated the screen. Taking a deep breath, I answered the call, the weight of anticipation hanging in the air.

"Hello," I greeted her.

Mia's gentle and concerned voice resonated with the receiver. Her words were tinged with an apology that seemed to hold more than mere regret.

"I'm Sorry...Sorry for what happened and for not being in touch."

Tears welled in my eyes as her words reached the depths of my wounded soul.

"You don't have to apologize," I responded, my voice carrying the weight of concern and brokenness.

"No, let me say it," Mia insisted, determination lacing her every word.

"I want to apologize personally. There is so much that happened, and I need to tell you everything. But I was helpless, unable to reach you."

I listened, my heart heavy with the knowledge that she, too, had been affected by the events that happened. The depth of her pain was palpable.

"It wasn't your fault,"

"No, don't say that, please."

"Listen, you have no idea how badly I want to meet you. But before that..." Her voice trailed off, leaving a tangible silence in its wake.

Curiosity mingled with fear as I braced myself for what she was about to reveal.

"Please meet Akshay," she implored, her voice quivering with a delicate vulnerability.

"He has been acting so strangely since that night, and now he's even more unpredictable now. You need to see him, Meera. It's important that you know what happened and why it affected him so deeply."

Dread crept up my spine at the mention of Akshay's name, my heart wavering between curiosity and fear. How could I face him and gaze into those eyes after the rawness of our shared moment?

"I can't," I uttered, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry, Mia. I can't..."

"I won't force you, Meera, but I genuinely want to help you. It's essential that you uncover the truth."

I hesitated for a moment, contemplating the gravity of her words. Eventually, resolve settled within me, and I mustered the strength to voice my conditions.

"Tell him I will meet him," I began, my voice steadying as I spoke.

"But he must accept the money he paid for my parents' flight tickets and my hospital bills. It is a fair exchange for what he wants to discuss."

A moment of silence hung in the air. Finally, Mia's voice broke through, tinged with satisfaction and warmth.

"Your wish is my command. It will be done."

Relief washed over me, mingling with a newfound sense of purpose. Mia's unwavering support bolstered my resolve.

As we bid each other farewell, a surge of affection filled my heart for the irreplaceable bond we shared.

(Time Skip)

I prepared to dinner, and a few minutes later, my phone rang.

Glancing at the screen, his name flashed before my eyes. The sight of it alone left me breathless; his intangible presence triggered my heartbeats.

Knowing that I could no longer ignore him after extending the offer, I reluctantly picked up the call, exhaling deeply to steady myself.

Bringing the phone closer to my ear, I settled into a hushed silence, acutely aware of the synchronized rhythm of our breathing.

"Mia just told me about your offer," he said in his husky voice with unspoken intentions.

"Yes," I responded gently, recognizing the power of consciousness in revealing only what was necessary. I understood that my responses were driven by a desire to provide concise answers, shielding myself from the vulnerability that threatened to unravel me in his presence.

His previous night's confession seemed to have locked away the depths of his emotions, leaving only the remains of what he truly wished to express. I instantly regretted invoking those memories, stirring up a reality we had both struggled to avoid.

"Consider it done," he uttered, his words carrying a low undertone.

A deep breath escaped me as I hesitated before continuing, feeling the slowing rhythm of his breath on the other end of the line.

"But I have one more condition," I finally voiced, elongating the pause as if allowing the weight of my words to settle upon his consciousness.

"Yes, please," he replied, his voice was soft.

"I need written confirmation that you accept the money without any intention of repayment in the future," I declared, my voice resonating with unwavering clarity.

"Fine, Meera, whatever you want," he replied, his deep, deep voice betraying traces of frustration.

"But I can't accept the hospital bills. That hospital is owned by my mother, and she won't accept the offer you want to present."

His words carried a resolute tone, as if he found satisfaction in asserting this one thing he knew I could not refuse—his mother's wishes.

"Fine," I said, resigning simply.

"We will meet in your office," I asserted, determination gleaming in my eyes. In that moment, I felt a flicker of control, as if I had seized the reins and taken charge of the situation, no longer a passive observer.

"I will wait for you, Meera," he murmured, his voice an ethereal caress that reverberated within me. His tender utterance of my name caused my heartbeat to quicken, forming beads of moisture on my arms.

"Goodbye. Text me the time," I managed to say, abruptly ending the call.

Leaving me grappling with the emotions that engulfed my body.

Though I longed to regain control, it was futile—the current of my emotions had swept me away, leaving me at their mercy.
WC:1040 

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