Chapter Sixteen: Beneath the Surface

Chapter Sixteen: Beneath the Surface

The dim light of the setting sun filtered through cracks in the warehouse walls, casting long shadows across the room. Tara stirred from her restless nap, her eyes landing on Abhay, who stood near the door, his silhouette sharp against the fading light.

He hadn’t moved an inch, his posture rigid and his gaze fixed on the world outside. Tara wondered if he ever truly let his guard down, even for a second.

She sat up, brushing the dust from her clothes. "You’re not going to get much rest if you keep standing there like a statue."

Abhay didn’t turn, but his voice carried across the room, low and steady. "Rest isn’t a luxury I can afford right now."

Tara frowned, standing and walking toward him. "Neither can I, but we can’t keep running on fumes forever."

He finally looked at her, his eyes tired but still sharp. "What do you want me to say, Tara? That I’m scared? That I don’t know if we’ll make it out of this alive? Because I won’t. I can’t."

She stopped a step away from him, her arms crossed. "You think you’re the only one carrying this weight? The only one afraid of what might happen?" Her voice softened. "You’re not alone in this, Abhay."

For a moment, he said nothing, his gaze dropping to the floor. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter. "I’ve been alone for so long, I don’t know how to let anyone in anymore."

Tara’s heart clenched at the raw honesty in his words. She reached out, hesitating before resting a hand on his arm. "You don’t have to carry everything on your own. We’re in this together, whether you like it or not."

Abhay looked at her hand, then back at her, something unspoken passing between them. He opened his mouth to respond, but a faint noise outside made him freeze.

In an instant, he moved to the window, peering through a crack in the wall. Tara’s pulse quickened as she followed his line of sight, but she couldn’t see anything.

"What is it?" she whispered.

Abhay held up a hand to silence her, his eyes narrowing. After a tense moment, he relaxed slightly. "Could’ve been the wind. But we need to be ready to move."

Tara nodded, her earlier frustration giving way to a renewed sense of urgency. She turned to gather their belongings, but Abhay’s voice stopped her.

"Tara."

She looked back at him, surprised by the softness in his tone.

"Thank you," he said, his expression unreadable but his voice sincere.

She offered him a small smile. "Anytime."

As they prepared to leave, Tara couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between them. It wasn’t much—just a crack in the walls Abhay had built around himself. But it was enough to give her hope.

And for the first time in a long while, hope felt like something worth holding onto.

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