Page 113 of Drunk On Love

His lips parted like he wanted to speak, but nothing came.

“I’ve held her while she cried,” I went on. “While she questioned her worth. While she begged the universe to explain why the man who gave her life made her feel like she didn’t deserve it.”

He looked away, eyes focused on the bottom of his glass. Like he couldn’t bear to meet mine.

“You lost your wife,” I said. “But Kiara? She lostbothher parents that day. One to death. The other to silence.”

His throat bobbed. A flicker of something broke through—guilt, grief, maybe just the weight of hearing it said aloud.

“You made her carry a guilt no child should bear. And still, even after everything… she wants your love. Your approval.”

I shook my head. “Sheshouldn’t.But she does.”

He still didn’t speak.

“You don’t have to love her,” I said. “But youwillrespect her. Because I do. Fiercely. And the next time you try to shame her, or let men like Vihaan near her—just know, I won’t stay silent.”

He didn’t respond.

But his shoulders sank. Just slightly. Like a man unraveling for the first time in years. And in that small, almost imperceptible shift, I saw it.

A crack in the armor.

A beginning.

____________

“Get us something stronger.” Roy’s voice broke through my thoughts as he slid onto the barstool next to me, gesturing to the bartender.

After the conversation with Mr. Randhawa, I’d escaped to the bar for some quiet, a place to sort out the whirlwind in my head. I needed to figure out how to tell Kiara. How to put into words everything I was feeling.

“Hey, buddy,” Roy tapped me on the shoulder, his tone light but familiar.

“Hey…” I set my phone down and turned to face him. “When did you get back?”

“This morning.” He picked up his glass, swirling the amber liquid before taking a sip.

“How’s the project coming along?”

“Everything’s ready for launch.” His smile was proud, but there was something else in his eyes—a knowing gleam, like he was sizing me up.

“Congratulations,” I offered with a small nod.

“Thanks.” Roy leaned back slightly, his eyes narrowing in that way they always did when he was about to get serious.

He raised his glass to his lips but didn’t drink. Instead, he fixed me with a pointed stare. “Please tell me the media is only talking about you and Kiara because it’s her stupid way of keeping Dadi off her wedding crusade—and not because you’ve lost your damn mind.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but he cut me off with a sly grin. “And why?” He continued. “Do you have that same look in your eyes that you did back when you were—what’s the word—smitten?”

I laughed softly, shaking my head. I glanced down at the condensation pooling around the base of my glass, tracingthe pattern with my thumb. The words came before I could stop them. “Because I am in love.”

Roy froze mid-sip, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “You’re not messing with me, are you?”

“No,” I said, my voice steady but low.

For a moment, he just stared at me, his expression unreadable. Then he set his glass down with a soft clink, exhaling a long breath. “Well, shit.”

“Yeah,” I muttered, a small smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.