Three times.
Each punch landed harder than the last. His head snapped back, blood spraying from his already broken nose, splattering across the marble tiles. A few people gasped. Someone shouted my name. I didn’t care.
All I could see was Kavya’s tear-stained face.
All I could hear was her trembling voice.
He tried…
My fist crashed into his jaw again.
"You think it's funny?" I growled, grabbing a fistful of his hair and forcing his head up. "You think touching my wife is a joke?"
He wheezed, blood dripping from his mouth. Yet that same disgusting smirk still lingered on his face.
"She's so beau..."
The next punch cut his sentence in half. Hard. His body went limp for a second before I dragged him upright again and slammed him against the nearest pillar. The sound echoed like a gunshot.
"Say that again," I hissed, my knuckles throbbing.
He coughed, blood splattering across my shirt. Around us the crowd had formed a wide circle. Some people were recording. Some were whispering, but no one dared step forward.
I seized his collar again, my knuckles aching from the blows I’d already delivered, and raised my fist, ready to smash his face into the counter once more. But before I could strike, a hand clamped around my forearm.
“Saurav, stop it now!” Tanya’s voice cracked with desperation. “Please… please stop!”
I turned, my chest heaving, and met her wide, terrified eyes. She flinched at the fury etched across my face.
For a moment, the world seemed to hang in silence—the bar, the broken man beneath my grip, Tanya’s trembling plea. My rage roared inside me, demanding another punch, another punishment. But something stopped me.
I shook her hand off, glaring at Abhiraj one last time, my stare was enough to tell him this wasn’t over. Then, with a sharp breath, I pushed away from the counter and stormed toward the door.
“Saurav… ” Tanya’s voice followed me, her footsteps quick behind mine.
“Don’t follow me,” I snapped before I walked out.
_______
When I headed toward my room, her muffled voice stopped me in my tracks. My steps slowed, guilt gnawing at me like aparasite. I glanced at my bloodied fist, clenching it harder, as if pain could drown out the chaos inside me. My heart hammered against my ribs as I moved closer to her room.
One long breath. Then another. I stepped inside, the room that used to be mine. My sanctuary. My safest place. And now it belonged to her. She had claimed it without my consent, but the truth was, she didn’t need it. She owned it anyway.
The first thing I saw was her curled up on the bed, cocooned in misery. Her back trembled with sobs, her face buried in the pillow, muffling cries she didn’t want the walls to hear. I moved closer, my eyes locking on the mark that bastard had left on her back.
My fist clenched again. I shut my eyes briefly, fighting the storm inside me. I should leave. I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t care. She was the same woman who once accused me of raping her. If I touched her again, she might file another complaint.
Complaint. As if that scared me.
Without thinking, I sank onto the bed. My hand slipped into my pocket, pulling out the ointment. I squeezed a generous amount onto my fingertips and dragged myself closer to her trembling frame.
She flinched, snapping her head toward me.
My hand froze. Her eyes were red, and swollen, and looked like she had cried for a whole damn year. And for reasons I couldn’t explain, my chest ached at the sight.
“Don’t touch me!” she hissed, recoiling like I was poisonous.
I swallowed my irritation, pushing it aside. I slid closer anyway. She retreated further, pressing herself against the headboard, her fear radiating in every heartbeat I could hear pounding in her chest.