LOGIN“Stop crying, Aruna…”
The voice was faint—coming from her own trembling lips. But the tears refused to stop. Her steps were heavy as she walked down the narrow path away from Revan’s house. The rain poured hard again, biting into her skin, soaking her hair until it clung to her face. But the cold was nothing compared to the ache trembling inside her chest. “He even… threw away the cake…” she whispered hoarsely. Her trembling fingers clutched the dented cake box. “God, I just wanted him to get better… why did it turn out like this?” Her steps faltered as she stumbled toward the parking area where her old motorcycle waited. The lights from Revan’s house still glowed behind her—bright, grand, dazzling. Mocking her. Whispering, You don’t belong here. Aruna started the engine, her hands shaking. The rain lashed against her face mercilessly, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to leave. Far away. From everything. --- “Why, Revan… why were you so cruel to me?” She spoke to the air, to the darkness of the night, to the silent God above. Her sobs were swallowed by the roar of the rain. “I spent every cent I had for that medicine. I worked late, until my hands bled. I thought you’d be happy. I thought… you still loved me.” Her cries broke into the storm, blurring her vision as the wet road shimmered under the dim streetlights. The wipers on her helmet visor couldn’t clear the water fast enough. But Aruna kept riding. Without direction. Without purpose. --- > “Why, God? I didn’t even get to say happy birthday to him…” The words came between sobs. She stopped by the side of the road, taking a long breath, lifting her face toward the sky. Rain and tears mingled on her cheeks. “God… I did everything right, didn’t I? I was loyal, I was honest, I fought for him. So why did he hurt me… like I was nothing?” She lowered her gaze, clutching her abdomen as a faint pain pulsed within—a pain she had been feeling lately. But she never knew the reason. She thought it was just exhaustion. “It’s okay, baby…” she whispered softly, caressing her stomach. “Mommy’s strong. We’re strong…” A flash of lightning split the sky, blindingly bright. Aruna twisted the throttle again, cutting through the curtain of rain down the lonely, slippery road. --- But a small step of fate was already waiting for her. From the distance, headlights approached—blinding, fast, uncontrolled. The horn blared. “BRAAAAK!” Everything happened too quickly. Aruna’s motorcycle spun out of control. Her body was thrown violently against the asphalt. The crash of metal and shattering glass echoed beneath the pounding rain. Her body rolled several meters before coming to a stop in the muddy roadside. Dark red blood streamed down from her temple. Her breaths came ragged, shallow. “Ahh…” Her hand moved weakly, pressing her abdomen—now searing with unbearable pain. A pain that stabbed deep, as if something inside her was crying out. “No… please… don’t…” her voice was faint, carried away by the storm. “My baby…” She tried to crawl, but her body wouldn’t move. The sounds of rain, thunder, and screeching tires blended into chaos. A man rushed out of the stopped car, a black umbrella in his hand, his footsteps splashing through puddles. “Oh God! Miss! Can you hear me?!” Aruna blinked weakly toward the voice. Her vision blurred, everything fading and drifting away. “D-Don’t touch me…” she whispered, barely audible. “I just… want to go home…” The man’s eyes widened when he saw the blood soaking her abdomen. “She’s bleeding out—call an ambulance! Now!” he shouted to someone still in the car. Aruna forced a faint smile, though her body trembled uncontrollably. “No… I’m… I’m fine…” But her lips were pale, and her eyes slowly began to close. --- With the last fragment of consciousness, she pressed her hands against her stomach. “Please… save her…” she whispered weakly. “Don’t let… my baby go…” The rain poured harder. The man knelt beside her, trying desperately to stop the bleeding with shaking hands. “Miss! Stay with me! Hey, can you hear me?! The ambulance is coming!” But his voice was fading—distant, muffled. All the colors around her dulled into gray. Only the sound of rain remained… and the slowing beat of her heart. Aruna’s lips curved into a faint, broken smile as a single tear slipped down her cheek. > “I promise… I’ll live… even if everyone else leaves me behind…” Then, the world went dark. The rain kept falling, washing away blood and pain— and on that silent, rain-soaked road, a girl who had lost everything… had just begun the story of her second life.The glass door closed behind them with a soft click.“Slow down,” Leonard said, his voice low but firm as he reached for Aruna’s wrist. “You don’t need to rush.”“I’m not rushing,” Aruna replied, gently pulling her hand free. “I’m walking.”Leonard exhaled, clearly restraining himself. “You’re six months pregnant. Every step you take alone feels like a calculated risk to me.”Aruna stopped.She turned, her eyes steady, her expression calm but unyielding. “And every time you say things like that, it feels like I’m disappearing.”The hallway outside the doctor’s office smelled faintly of antiseptic and warm sunlight. A nurse passed by, smiling politely, unaware of the quiet storm standing still between a husband and wife learning—again—how to exist together.“I’m not trying to erase you,” Leonard said. “I’m trying to protect you.”“I know.” Aruna placed her palm over her stomach, instinctive, grounding. “But protection shouldn’t feel like a cage.”Leonard looked away. His jaw tightened.
The rain tapped softly against the tall glass windows when Aruna paused at the edge of the living room, one hand resting unconsciously on her stomach. The city lights below shimmered like distant stars, beautiful yet unreachable. For the first time in days, her breathing was steady—until her phone vibrated in her palm.Leonard looked up from the documents spread across the table.“Aruna?” he called, instantly alert. “What is it?”She didn’t answer right away. Her eyes scanned the screen, the faint glow reflecting in her pupils. Then she exhaled slowly.“It’s the hospital,” she said at last. “They moved up my appointment.”Leonard stood, the chair scraping lightly against the floor. “Moved up? Why?” His voice stayed calm, but his shoulders were tense.“They said it’s routine,” Aruna replied, forcing a small smile as she turned toward him. “Because of my history.”Leonard crossed the room in long strides. “Routine doesn’t come with sudden calls,” he said quietly. “Are you okay?”“I am,”
“I can walk by myself, Leonard.”Aruna’s voice was calm, but firm, as she pulled her arm slightly free from his grasp. The hospital corridor was quiet, washed in pale afternoon light that slipped through tall glass windows. The faint scent of antiseptic lingered in the air, mixing with something warmer—hope, perhaps.Leonard stopped walking.“I know,” he said slowly. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t stay close.”She turned to face him. For a moment, neither spoke. His eyes—sharp and calculating in boardrooms, cold when facing enemies—were now clouded with something else. Fear. Bare and unhidden.Aruna sighed softly.“You’re afraid,” she said.Leonard didn’t deny it. “I almost lost you once.”“And you didn’t,” she replied gently. “I’m still here.”He nodded, but his jaw tightened. “That doesn’t erase the memory.”They resumed walking, this time side by side, their steps slower, more deliberate. Outside, the city moved on—cars passing, people laughing, life continuing without pause. Insid
Aruna stood by the wide window of the penthouse, her palm resting unconsciously on her abdomen as the city stretched beneath the pale morning light. The skyline looked softer today, less threatening, as if it had learned how to breathe with her.“I still can’t believe it,” she murmured.Behind her, Leonard paused mid-step. “Believe what?” he asked, his voice careful, like he was afraid to break something fragile.Aruna turned, a small smile forming. “That I wake up without fear clawing at my chest.”Leonard’s eyes softened instantly. He crossed the room in long strides and stopped in front of her. “You’re allowed to feel that way now,” he said. “You’re safe.”She laughed quietly. “You always say that.”“And I will keep saying it,” Leonard replied. “As many times as it takes.”Aruna studied his face—no trace of the cold, distant man she once married under contract. This Leonard carried warmth in his gaze, concern in the way his shoulders leaned slightly toward her, as if shielding her
The fetus is healthy.The soft beeping filled the room like a quiet metronome, steady and patient.“There it is,” the doctor said, adjusting the probe slightly. “Listen carefully.”Aruna froze.Leonard’s hand tightened around hers. “Do you hear that?” he whispered, his voice rough, as if he were afraid to break the sound by speaking too loudly.The rhythm pulsed through the small examination room—fast, determined, undeniably alive.Aruna’s breath hitched. “That’s… that’s the heartbeat?”The doctor smiled. “Strong and clear. Your baby is doing very well.”For a moment, Aruna couldn’t speak. The world narrowed to that sound, to the screen where a tiny shape flickered, still abstract but already precious beyond measure. Tears blurred her vision, spilling before she realized she was crying.Leonard swallowed hard. “Healthy?” he asked again, as if he needed to hear it more than once.“Yes,” the doctor replied calmly. “No abnormalities. Growth is right on schedule.”Aruna covered her mouth
Trust did not arrive loudly in Aruna’s life. It did not knock on the door or announce itself with certainty. It came quietly, in pauses between breaths, in moments when fear loosened its grip just enough for her heart to rest.The morning light filtered through the curtains, pale and gentle. Aruna sat on the edge of the bed, one hand resting on her stomach, the other gripping the sheet as if the fabric could anchor her thoughts.Leonard watched her from the doorway.“You’ve been awake for a while,” he said softly.Aruna looked up. “I didn’t want to wake you.”Leonard crossed the room in long strides and knelt in front of her, his eyes level with hers. “You don’t have to protect me from your thoughts.”She smiled faintly. “I’m not protecting you. I’m protecting myself.”He nodded, accepting the honesty. “What’s running through your mind?”Aruna hesitated. Silence had once been her shield. But silence had also nearly destroyed her.“I’m scared,” she said finally. “Not of being pregnant.







