Forever 💘(completed)

Chapter 18

The next morning, as sunlight filtered through the curtains, Virat lay still in bed. His head rested against Rohit's chest, and though his body was at ease, his mind was still burdened with the weight of the past. The events of the previous day, being locked in the storeroom, had shaken him deeply, not just because of the incident itself, but because it had unearthed memories he had buried for years.

Rohit woke up first, his arms still wrapped protectively around Virat. He looked down at his husband, gently brushing his fingers through his hair, remembering the fear in Virat's eyes last night. The way he had begged, the desperation in his voice—Rohit knew something was terribly wrong. He had always suspected that Virat had endured more than he let on, but he had never pried, respecting his husband's boundaries.

But now, after seeing him so vulnerable, after hearing him plead to not be taken back to Manika, Rohit knew he had to know the full truth. He couldn't stand to see Virat suffer any longer.

As if sensing Rohit's thoughts, Virat stirred awake. His eyes opened slowly, and for a moment, they met Rohit's. There was a flicker of fear in them, but it was quickly replaced by exhaustion.

"Good morning, jaan," Rohit whispered softly, pressing a gentle kiss to Virat's forehead.

Virat nodded slightly but said nothing. He felt emotionally drained, but deep down, he knew he couldn't keep hiding his past from Rohit anymore. The storeroom incident had brought too much back to the surface, and Rohit deserved to know.

"Ro...," Virat began, his voice shaky and quiet.

Rohit cupped his cheek, offering a reassuring smile. "I'm here, Vi. You can tell me anything. You know that, right?"

Virat took a deep breath, trying to gather the courage to speak. His heart raced, and for a moment, he considered stopping, but when he looked into Rohit's eyes, he saw nothing but love and concern.

"It's about my past," Virat finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've been hiding a lot from you. About my... childhood, and... about maa."

Rohit frowned slightly, his heart heavy with anticipation. "Tell me, jaan. I want to know. I want to help."

Virat took another deep breath, his hands trembling as he began to speak, his words slow and measured, as though reliving every memory brought back the pain.

"I was adopted when I was just four months old," he said, his voice distant. "My biological parents died in a car crash. The only reason I was adopted was because my late father insisted on it. He wanted a child, but they couldn't conceive on their own. Maa... she never wanted me. She hated the idea from the start."

Rohit remained silent, his thumb gently caressing the back of Virat's hand as he listened, his heart breaking with every word.

"My dad... he died when I was five," Virat continued, his voice growing more fragile. "After that, Maa didn't need to pretend anymore. She... she discarded me, like I was some kind of garbage. She remarried not long after. Her new husband... he was a kind man. He tried to stand up for me when he could, but he didn't have much say in how things went. Maa ruled the house."

Virat paused, his eyes glazing over with the memories of his early years. "I used to be so lively, so full of energy as a kid. But that just made her angrier. She taught me to do household chores by the time I was eight, and by ten, I was doing everything around the house. I wasn't allowed to be a kid anymore. I was her personal servant."

Rohit's grip on Virat's hand tightened slightly, his jaw clenching in anger. He couldn't believe the cruelty of it.

"I tried to make friends," Virat said softly, "but she wouldn't let me. She'd humiliate me in front of them, taunt me and them, until I was alone. After a while, I stopped trying. I stopped talking altogether. I... I learned that sharing my thoughts or feelings would only make things worse."