Chapter 34

The car door closed with a sound that felt louder than it actually was.

Or maybe it wasn’t the sound.

Maybe it was what followed it.

Silence.

Zivah didn’t start the engine immediately.

Her hands rested on the steering wheel, fingers curled around it, not tightly enough to look obvious, but not relaxed either.

There was a stiffness in her posture.

A stillness that didn’t belong to calm.

Eraya sat beside her.

She didn’t move.

Didn’t speak.

Didn’t even adjust her position.

Because something about the air told her,
this wasn’t the kind of silence she should break.

Zivah finally started the car.

The engine hummed to life.

But it didn’t fill the quiet.

It just made it more noticeable.

The drive home felt longer than usual.

Not because the distance had changed.

Because every second stretched.

Zivah’s eyes stayed fixed on the road.

But she wasn’t really seeing it.

Not fully.

Her mind kept replaying,
the corridor,
the shove,
the way Eraya had stumbled,
the way she had said “I’m fine” like it was automatic

Her jaw tightened.

Again.

And this time she didn’t even try to hide it.

Beside her, Eraya noticed.

Of course she did.

She always noticed shifts in tone, posture, breath.

That was survival.

She opened her mouth once.

Closed it again.

What was she supposed to say?

I’m fine?

That would make it worse.

I’m sorry?

That might make it worse too.

So she stayed quiet.

Because silence had always been safer than saying the wrong thing.

Zivah glanced at her once.

Just once.

Quick.

But enough.

Eraya was sitting too still.

Hands folded together too neatly.

Eyes lowered.

That didn’t calm Zivah.

It made something inside her twist harder.

Because this,

this quiet, careful version of Eraya,
was not new.

And suddenly, it made sense.

Too much sense.

Zivah looked back at the road.

Exhaled slowly.

But it didn’t release anything.

Neither of them spoke the entire drive.

The door shut behind them.

And this time,
the silence didn’t stay quiet.

It shifted.

Zivah moved first.

Straight to the cabinet.

Pulling out the first aid kit with more force than necessary.

Not enough to slam.

But enough to show something was off.

Eraya stood in the middle of the room for a second.

Not sure where to go.

What to do.

“…sit,” Zivah said without looking at her.

Eraya obeyed instantly.

Sitting at the edge of the couch.

Back straight.

Hands in her lap.

Zivah walked back.

Knelt in front of her.

Took her wrist.

Not rough.

But not gentle either.

Just… firm.

“…hold still.”

The antiseptic touched her skin.

Cold.

Sharp.

Eraya flinched slightly.

Not from pain.

From the suddenness of it.

Zivah noticed.

Of course she did.

Her grip softened.

Just a little.

But her face didn’t.

She didn’t speak.

Not yet.

And that silence,

felt heavier than shouting would have.

Eraya watched her.

Carefully.

Like she was trying to read something that wasn’t being said.

“…you shouldn’t have said that,” she murmured finally.

Zivah’s hand paused.

Just for a second.

Then continued.

“…said what.”

Eraya hesitated.

“…about us. Our marriage.”

That made Zivah stop completely.

Her hand still around Eraya’s wrist.

But no longer moving.

She looked up slowly.

“…that’s what you’re thinking about right now?”

Eraya’s gaze dropped instantly.

“…it made things worse.”

There it was.

That sentence.

Zivah let go of her hand.

Stood up.

Walked a step away.

Then another.

Not to leave.

Just to create distance.

Because if she stayed too close,
she wasn’t sure what she’d say.

“How long.”

Eraya blinked. Startled by the question.

“…what?”

Zivah turned.

Fully.

“How long has this been happening.”

Not a question.

A demand.

Silence.

Eraya swallowed.

“…it’s nothing.”

Zivah let out a short breath.

Not a laugh.

Something sharper.

“I’m not asking what you think it is.”

Her voice lowered.

“I’m asking how long was this going on.”

Eraya’s fingers tightened.

“…a week.”

The word dropped quietly.

But it hit like something much louder.

Zivah went still.

“…a week.”

She repeated to herself.

Not disbelief.

Confirmation.

Eraya nodded faintly.

And something in Zivah broke.

Not outwardly.

Internally.

She took a step forward.

Then another.

“And you didn’t tell me.”

Eraya’s eyes lowered.

“…I didn’t want to ruin anything.”

Zivah’s voice came out sharper again.

“You are not something that ruins things.”

That made Eraya freeze, her voice came smaller.

“…I didn’t want to disturb you.”

Zivah stared at her.

For a long moment.

“…disturb me.”

She repeated it like she didn’t recognize the concept.

“You thought this-” she gestured vaguely, frustrated, “-this is something I wouldn’t want to know?”

Eraya shook her head quickly.

“…no, I just-“

“You just what?”

Zivah cut in.

Eraya faltered.

“…I thought I could handle it.”

That made Zivah laugh.

But there was no humor in it.

“You thought you could handle someone pushing you around for a week.”

Her voice rose slightly.

Not shouting.

But breaking control.

“And your solution was to not tell me.”

Eraya’s hands clenched together.

“…I didn’t want to make it a bigger issue.”

Zivah stepped closer.

Now right in front of her again.

“It is a bigger issue.”

A pause.

Then sharper,

“You being hurt is not a small thing. Not for me.”

Eraya flinched slightly at the intensity.

“…I’m not hurt.”

That was the wrong thing to say.

Zivah’s jaw tightened visibly now.

“I saw you on the floor in the clasroom.”

Silence.

“I saw you not even react when she shoved you.”

Another step closer.

“That is not ‘fine,’ Eraya.”

Eraya looked down.

“…I’m used to it.”

The sentence slipped out before she could stop it.

And everything stopped.

Zivah froze.

Completely.

“…what.”

Eraya’s breath hitched.

She hadn’t meant to say that.

But it was already out.

“…I just meant-“

“No.”

Zivah shook her head.

“You don’t ‘just mean’ something like that.”

Her voice dropped again.

Quieter.

But heavier.

“What do you mean you’re used to it.”

Zivah took a breath.

Then another.

Like she was holding something too large inside her chest.

“I don’t understand what you think I feel,” she said quietly.

“…but it is not just responsibility.”

Eraya didn’t speak.

Couldn’t.

Zivah stepped closer.

Now only a small distance between them.

Her voice dropped further.

“I’m angry because I thought I almost lost you in a place I wasn’t even there to protect you from.”

Silence again.

Then,
softer.

Almost broken.

“…I can’t do that again.”

Eraya didn’t answer.

Because there wasn’t a version of that truth that didn’t make everything worse.

Zivah stepped back slightly.

Ran a hand through her hair.

Frustration building again.

“Why didn’t you trust me enough to tell me.”

That question,
wasn’t angry.

It was hurt.

Eraya looked up.

“…I do trust you.”

Zivah laughed softly.

“No, you don’t.”

Silence.

“If you trusted me, I wouldn’t be finding out like this.”

Eraya’s voice came softer.

Almost apologetic.

“…I didn’t want to burden you.”

And that,
that was the moment everything shifted.

Zivah went still again.
But this time not in anger.
Something else.

“…burden me.”

She repeated it slowly.

“You think you are a burden.”

Eraya didn’t answer.

But her silence was answer enough.

Zivah took a step forward again.

“That’s what you think of yourself.”

Her voice wasn’t sharp anymore.

It was raw.

“That telling me you’re being hurt is somehow… too much.”

Eraya’s throat tightened.

“…I didn’t want you to worry.”

And that’s when it happened.

Zivah didn’t think.

Didn’t filter.

Didn’t stop herself.

“I’m worried because I love you.”

The words landed before either of them could process them.

Silence.

Immediate.

Complete.

Zivah froze.

Her own sentence catching up to her.

Eraya blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Neither of them moved.

Zivah looked away first.

Like she needed a second to understand what she had just said.

Then she exhaled slowly.

“…yeah.”

A pause.

“I do.”

Her voice was quieter now.

But steadier.

“I love you.”

Eraya didn’t speak.

Couldn’t.

Those words felt foreign to her.

Zivah continued.

Because stopping now felt worse.

“And I don’t know when that started.”

She laughed softly.

But it wasn’t light.

“Maybe when you stopped eating properly and I noticed.”

“Maybe when you smiled at something small like it mattered more than it should.”

“Maybe when I realized I check if you’re okay before I check anything else.”

A pause.

“But I know it’s there.”

Her eyes met Eraya’s again.

“And I know that when something happens to you, it doesn’t feel small to me.”

Silence.

Eraya’s chest rose and fell unevenly.

Not fear.

Not confusion.

Something deeper.

Something she didn’t have language for yet.

Zivah stepped back slightly.

Creating space again.

“…you don’t get to decide what I can handle,” she said quietly.

A pause.

“And you definitely don’t get to go through things like that alone.”

Eraya nodded slowly.

Still processing.

Still overwhelmed.

Still silent.

And Zivah,
stood there,
still angry
still protective
still shaken

But now,
with something out in the open that couldn’t be taken back.

And the silence that followed?

It wasn’t empty anymore.

It was waiting.

After the confrontation and confession, Zivah did not wait for Eraya to respond.

The bathroom door closed softly.

Not slammed.

Not rushed.

Just… closed.

And somehow that felt worse.

Eraya stayed exactly where she was.

On the couch.

Hands still loosely folded in her lap.

Back straight.

Like her body hadn’t yet received the signal that something had just changed.

Because something had.

Something big.

Something irreversible.

Her mind didn’t move at the same pace as the moment.

It lagged behind.

Trying to catch up.

I love you.

The words didn’t replay loudly.

They didn’t echo.

They… settled.

Quietly.

Deeply.

Like they were trying to find a place to belong.

Eraya blinked slowly.

Her fingers loosened slightly.

Zivah loved her.

The thought didn’t come with panic.

Or doubt.

Or fear.

It came with something softer.

Something warmer.

Something that spread slowly instead of hitting all at once.

A small smile formed on her lips before she even realized it.

Not wide.

Not visible from across the room.

Just… there.

Because for the first time,
someone hadn’t just cared for her.

They hadn’t just protected her.

They hadn’t just stayed.

They had chosen her.

Openly.

Without hesitation.

And Eraya didn’t know what to do with that yet.

She leaned back slightly into the couch.

Eyes dropping to her hands.

Her thumb brushed faintly over the place where Zivah had held her wrist earlier.

And suddenly,
she felt it again.

The firmness.

The urgency.

The way Zivah had said “hold still” like it mattered more than anything else.

Her smile deepened just slightly.

She didn’t even notice the time passing.

Or the quiet apartment.

Or the fact that Zivah hadn’t come back yet.

Because she was still sitting inside that one moment.

The sound came suddenly.

Breaking through everything.

“ERAYA-“

Shivani’s voice.

Fast.

Uneven.

Eraya blinked.

Looked up.

The door opened wider.

Shivani stepped in first.

Anamika right behind her.

And the moment Shivani saw her,
she didn’t slow down.

She crossed the room in seconds.

Kneeling in front of Eraya almost immediately.

“Are you okay?”

Her hands were already reaching.

Checking.

Shoulders.

Arms.

Face.

Her voice was softer now.

But it carried panic underneath.

“Did she hurt you? Tell me properly-don’t say you’re fine just because-“

Eraya’s smile faded slightly.

Not because she didn’t want to smile.

Because she was pulled back into the present.

“I’m okay,” she said softly.

Shivani’s eyes narrowed instantly.

“That is not an answer.”

She shifted closer.

Looking at her more carefully now.

“Where did she push you? Show me.”

Eraya hesitated.

“…it’s nothing serious.”

Shivani let out a sharp breath.

Half frustration.

Half relief.

“You say ‘nothing’ about everything.”

Her tone wasn’t harsh.

But it wasn’t gentle either.

It carried something else.

Something protective.

Something… angry on her behalf.

Anamika stepped closer too.

Not as fast.

Not as loud.

But just as concerned.

Her gaze moved over Eraya quietly.

Taking in the details others might miss.

“She looks shaken Shivi,” Anamika said softly.

Shivani glanced back at her.

Then returned her focus to Eraya.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

That question landed heavier than the rest.

Eraya looked down again.

Her fingers tightening slightly.

“I thought it would stop.”

Shivani let out a dry laugh.

“People like her don’t just ‘stop.'”

She shook her head.

Frustration rising again.

“And you just decided to deal with it alone?”

Eraya didn’t answer.

Because there wasn’t a version of that answer that didn’t sound wrong.

Shivani’s voice softened suddenly.

But only slightly.

“You could have told me.”

That sentence held more weight than anything else she had said.

Anamika sat down beside them now.

Closer.

Grounding the space.

“And Zi?” she asked quietly.

That made Eraya pause.

Because suddenly,
the room felt incomplete.

She hadn’t noticed it before.

But now she did.

Zivah wasn’t there.

The bathroom door opened.

Zivah stepped out.

Hair slightly damp at the edges.

Face calmer.

But only on the surface.

Her eyes flicked toward the living room.

She saw them.

All three of them.

And for a moment,
her gaze found Eraya instantly.

Like it always did.

Without effort.

Without thinking.

But this time,
she looked away.

Subtle.

Quick.

But real.

Eraya noticed.

Of course she did.

Her smile faded completely now.

Not replaced with sadness.

Just… confusion.

Zivah walked past them.

Didn’t stop.

Didn’t speak.

Went straight to the kitchen.

Shivani frowned immediately.

“…what was that?”

Anamika didn’t answer right away.

Because she had seen it too.

The way Zivah didn’t pause.

Didn’t check.

Didn’t sit beside Eraya like she always did.

Something was off.

Eraya stood slowly.

Almost instinctively.

Her body moving before her thoughts caught up.

She took a step toward the kitchen.

Then another.

Zivah stood by the counter.

Pouring herself a glass of water.

Her movements were controlled.

Deliberate.

Like she was focusing on something simple to avoid thinking about something else.

Eraya stepped closer.

Slow.

Careful.

“…Zivah?”

Zivah didn’t turn immediately.

She took a sip of water first.

Then another.

“…you should rest,” she said quietly.

Still not looking at her.

Eraya stopped.

That wasn’t… right.

Normally,
Zivah would have already been beside her.

Asking.

Checking.

Noticing.

“…are you okay?” Eraya asked softly.

Zivah let out a small breath.

“I’m fine.”

The same words.

The same tone.

The same dismissal.

And for the first time,

Eraya felt what it was like to hear them from the other side.

Silence stretched.

Zivah finally turned.

Just slightly.

Their eyes met.

For a second.

Then Zivah looked away again.

“…you should sit,” she repeated.

Eraya didn’t move.

Something inside her didn’t let her.

“You said something,” she whispered.

That made Zivah go still.

Completely.

Her breath hitched slightly.

Almost unnoticeable.

“…I know.”

A pause.

Eraya’s voice softened even more.

“Why are you acting like you didn’t mean it?”

That question,
hit directly.

Zivah turned fully now.

Finally.

But her expression wasn’t open.

It was guarded.

“I didn’t say I didn’t mean it.”

“Then why are you avoiding me?”

The question came out more fragile than Eraya intended.

Zivah looked at her.

Really looked this time.

Because that tone,
that quiet uncertainty,

It broke through something.

But instead of stepping closer,
she stepped back.

“…because I don’t know what you’re going to say.”

There it was.

The truth.

“I don’t know if you’re going to pretend you didn’t hear it.”

“I don’t know if you’re going to say you don’t feel the same.”

Her voice dropped slightly.

“And I don’t know what I’ll do with that.”

Silence.

Eraya stood there.

Taking it in.

Zivah continued.

Because stopping now felt worse.

“So I’d rather not stand here and wait for you to say something that-“

She stopped herself.

That honesty,

sat between them.

Heavy.

Real.

When they walked back into the living room,
everything looked the same.

But it wasn’t.

Zivah didn’t sit beside Eraya.

She sat on the other couch.

Next to Anamika.

A small distance.

But it felt… wrong.

Shivani noticed immediately.

Her brows pulling together.

“…since when do you sit there?”

Zivah shrugged slightly.

“No reason.”

There was a reason.

Everyone could feel it.

Eraya sat back where she was.

Hands in her lap again.

Her gaze drifted once,
toward Zivah.

Zivah looked away instantly.

That hurt more than the silence earlier.

Because now,
it was intentional.

Anamika leaned back slightly.

Observing.

Connecting.

Zivah-who never let her eyes leave Eraya, was now actively avoiding looking at her.

Eraya-who had just been sitting in quiet happiness,
now looked… unsure.

Shivani leaned toward Anamika slightly.

Whispering,
“…what happened?”

Anamika shook her head faintly.

“…something big.”

The room filled with conversation again.

Light.

Surface-level.

Shivani trying to distract.

Anamika adding small remarks.

But underneath it,
something had shifted permanently.

Zivah didn’t look at Eraya.

Not once.

And Eraya,

kept looking at her when she thought she wouldn’t notice.

Because now,
she knew.

And the space between them,
was no longer empty.

It was waiting.

For something neither of them had said yet.
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