Fiza walked alongside Alan down the corridor, and Rumya's gaze remained fixed on them until they disappeared into the lift.

Alan pressed the button for the ground floor, and once they reached it, they walked from the lobby into the garden.

The night was enchanting. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, the skies were clear, and a waxing moon cast a soft silvery glow upon their surroundings.

Fiza glanced at Alan, unsure of where to begin. "So, Rumya, huh?" she asked, offering him a soft smile that he didn't return.

Alan's heart thudded in his chest, and a lump formed in his throat once again. Words seemed to elude him. His love for her was overwhelming, and the ache of missing her every second of every day was palpable.

He had spent countless hours contemplating how he could have handled things differently, but the same conclusion persisted. Without her, he had struggled to believe that any goodness remained in him.

As time had passed, he became increasingly convinced that it would be selfish to disrupt her life when she had the opportunity to find happiness with someone who perfectly matched her desires.

He forced his thoughts back to the question at hand. Fiza was inquiring about Rumya.

"I've been chatting with her. My parents have been trying to push me to marry, so..." Alan began, his tone carrying no real enthusiasm for Rumya.

If he had not been emotionally available the last time, he was certainly not available now. Nevertheless, he had been open with Rumya, and she had confided in him that she too had been healing from a broken heart. Neither of them were seeking more than friendship.

Fiza attempted to shake off a sense of disappointment, but she yearned for complete transparency. She was determined that this time, they would communicate openly with each other rather than making assumptions and acting on them.

"I'm not pregnant," Fiza began, unsure of how else to broach the subject.

Alan examined her closely, noticing that she didn't appear pregnant. Confusion creased his brow. "Did you have a miscarriage?" he inquired.

The question pained Fiza. How could he think she would be with anyone else but him? "I wasn't pregnant. Why did you think I was?" she asked, her voice trembling with a surge of mixed emotions.

Alan blinked, processing her words. "You remember Siddhart? He's in Mangalore, doing his fellowship there, and he's friends with... with Faisal." Alan's voice quivered as he recalled the surge of emotions he'd experienced when he'd first heard about the supposed pregnancy. "He told me one day that he was out for dinner and that Faisal was treating them because he was going to be a father." Alan watched her closely, searching for any reaction.

Fiza met his gaze with unwavering intensity, her eyes locked onto his.

She came to a sudden halt. "I've not been a wife to anyone but you," she whispered, her voice filled with emotion.

Alan couldn't contain his feelings any longer. He gently cupped her face in his hands, torn between the desire to kiss her and the moral dilemma of her being married. His mind raced with conflicting thoughts - she was married, but she wasn't pregnant; she was his Fiza, but she belonged to someone else.

As he grappled with his internal struggle, Fiza leaned in, closing the distance between them, and her lips met his. Passion ignited in that kiss, and her hands found their way to his shoulder, then up to the back of his head, pulling him closer to her.

He kissed her back fervently, savoring the taste of strawberries on her lips, the familiar warmth of her presence. Unbeknownst to him, tears welled up in his eyes. He couldn't discern whether they were tears of happiness or pain but nothing else mattered but the intensity of their reunion.

As Fiza kissed Alan, she felt the warmth of his tears falling onto her cheeks.

When she gently nipped his lip, he began to tremble, and soon, he was crying into her mouth. His hands clung to her face as shaky breaths and sobs escaped him.

Fiza broke the kiss, and he buried his face into the crook of her neck, his hands sliding down to hold her intimately above her waist.

"Fiza," he whispered, his voice trembling. "My Fiza..."

Several minutes passed in the embrace, their emotions swirling in the intensity of the moment.

Eventually, Fiza pulled away and gazed into Alan's eyes. "Why didn't you come back to me, Alan? Your mom told me you were hurting too," she inquired, her voice filled with a mix of longing and confusion.

"I promised your father I wouldn't. And then I called him a week later," Alan recounted, his voice filled with regret. "I told him that I needed you, that I would never hurt you again, that I would seek help. But he said that if he hears that I approached you, he would not support you through your PG, and I knew we didn't have enough funds in our... in our account to pay for your tuition."

"I'm so sorry, Fiza. I didn't know what to do. Achan, too, said that he would disown me if I tried to get back with you. And Faisal had filed a police complaint against me," Alan explained, his defeat evident in his demeanor. "I just didn't know... I started believing everyone else, that I was bad for you, that this was all for the good. But I just couldn't let you go..." His words were filled with the anguish of their separation.

Fiza caressed Alan's cheek and wiped away a tear with her thumb.

"One day, I just couldn't bear it anymore, and I drove to Mangalore to see you," Alan confessed. "I went to your old apartment and saw Bharti. She told me that you were staying with Faisal now and that he had taken up a faculty position in Mangalore. She told me you were happy and asked me to leave you alone."

Alan looked at Fiza with a hint of accusation in his eyes.

"I unblocked you for two months and waited for you to contact me, but you didn't," he continued. "So I changed my number, so I wouldn't wait for you anymore." His admission was filled with the pain and confusion he had endured during their separation.

"Alan..." Fiza began, but Alan interrupted her.

"I took a break and went to Bangalore. I was going crazy. I was tempted to drink into oblivion, but I had promised you that I wouldn't go back to being what I was before you," Alan confessed, tears streaming down his face.

They found a bench and sat down.

"One day, I just couldn't take it. I wanted the pain to go away. Nothing was working. Not work, not studying, gym, basketball. Nothing helped. I couldn't even walk into a mall or a restaurant because I would hear a song that reminded me of you."

Fiza put her arm around him and rested her head on his shoulder, realizing that he was about to share the painful moment when he had tried to end his life. Tears flowed down her own cheeks as she listened, her heart aching for the agony he had endured.

"I just got on my bike and rode. I didn't even try to think about wearing my helmet. I just picked up speed, like I wanted to run away from everything and everyone. I didn't know where I was going, and I didn't care. I wasn't trying to kill myself, Fiza, I promise, but I just wanted it to stop hurting for once," Alan confessed, his voice trembling with the weight of his emotions.

Fiza gently rubbed his back as he took deep, steadying breaths.

"I realized I couldn't manage this on my own. I wasn't doing well at work, I wasn't able to focus or think straight. I met with a psychologist - I had actually found him back when you had suggested CBT," he continued, looking at her with a bit more composure. "I've been diagnosed with PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder), Fiza. My relationship with Aarthy had affected me a lot more than I had realized. Being with you had helped a lot. But there were things that I needed to figure out on my own to heal."

Fiza listened intently as Alan explained. She could feel the depth of his pain and the importance of his revelation.

"I don't know if I've told you this, but I used to have vivid flashbacks of things she would say to me all the way until the third year of college," Alan admitted.

Fiza leaned in and kissed his eyes, feeling an overwhelming sense of protectiveness towards him.

Alan paused briefly, holding her close, knowing that he needed to share more about what he had uncovered through his therapy sessions.

"Everything had been getting better with your friendship, with your love," Alan continued, his voice filled with sincerity. "You saw the good in me. You reminded me of who I was and got me out of the mindset Aarthy had put me in-the person that I made myself out to be. I truly started believing in myself."

Fiza smiled at him through her tears, her heart touched by his words, although uncertain about where this conversation was heading.

"But then, with the stress of the pandemic, the constant risk of losing you - to covid or someone else, and then seeing you in Agumbe after all that time..." Alan's voice trailed off, and Fiza's body tensed.

She still vividly remembered the pain he had caused her. She closed her eyes, realizing that she had never fully grasped the extent of the hurt he had experienced from Aarthy's abuse.

"Aradya told me you were being manipulative. I didn't understand back then, but I do now," Alan continued. "It triggered my old trauma, and I overreacted in a way that brought back feelings and emotions that I had gone through with Aarthy. I don't have an impulse control disorder, Fiza; my impulsiveness is related to the PTSD. Even though I got into therapy so I could deal with losing you..." Alan paused to compose himself once again. "It really helped me with getting through my past trauma. I'm so much better now, Fiza. I don't think I would hurt you anymore." He looked directly into her eyes, seeking understanding and forgiveness.

He vividly recalled how she had looked at him after she had fallen after colliding with him, the table lamp shattering on her face. "Please... please don't hurt me," she had whispered. That memory had haunted him, and had acted as the most powerful force that kept him away from her.

"I love you, Alan," Fiza whispered softly. "Always have, always will."

Alan pulled her close and tenderly kissed her lips. He traced the scar on her forehead with his index finger before placing a kiss there. Fuck Faisal, he thought. Fiza had confessed that she had never been a wife to anyone but him. She was his, only his and no piece of paper could change that. They were both financially independent now, and if it meant living together like outlaws, he was willing to do it. He wondered what Fiza would think of that.

"Fiza, tell me where you are at with all this. What's been going on with you?" Alan asked her, wanting to understand her perspective and feelings.

**********************************************
Authors note

I would like to take this opportunity to shed light on the boys or men who are abused by women.

Someone I knew and held dearly went through this, inspiring this portion of the story. He was abused by an older cousin. When he reached out to the chaplain at his church, they told him that if this came out, he would likely be blamed and penalized. They told him that his cousin could retaliate and accuse him of sexually her. That the law would be on her side. You g and impressionable as he was, he never spoke of it for years to come, internalizing all the trauma he had endured.

Though assault victims are overwhelmingly women, let us take a moment to realized that our men too sometimes need our understanding and support. Please remember to listen with empathy and without judgement if you ever have someone come forward and talk to you about it.

Please vote and comment if you like this chapter. Thank you for reading!

💜Faiza