Rishi sat beside Aisha's bed, his eyes never leaving her pale, fever-stricken face. The doctor had checked on her, given her medication, and assured him that rest would help her recover. But even with that reassurance, Rishi couldn't bring himself to leave.
He adjusted the damp cloth on her forehead, his fingers lingering against her soft skin. She looked so fragile, so unlike the fierce woman he had always known. Seeing her like this....broken, silent, lost....made something inside him ache in a way he couldn't put into words.
Aisha stirred slightly, mumbling something incoherent, her brows knitting together as if she was trapped in a nightmare. Rishi leaned closer, brushing a few damp strands of hair away from her face.
"I'm here," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "You're safe."
He watched her for hours, only leaving her side to fetch water or adjust her blanket. As the night deepened, he noticed the fever beginning to subside, but he still refused to relax. Every time she whimpered in her sleep, he was there, whispering soothing words she might never remember.
At one point, she woke up, her eyelashes fluttering open, revealing tired, glassy eyes. She blinked, trying to focus on him. "Rishi…?" her voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.
"Shh… don't talk," he said gently, offering her a glass of water. She weakly lifted her hand, and he helped her drink, making sure she didn't strain herself.
As she settled back against the pillows, her lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to say something, but the exhaustion pulled her back into sleep before she could.
Rishi sighed and ran a tired hand through his hair. He had never felt so helpless before. He had watched her from afar for years, loving her in silence, hoping she would find happiness....even if it wasn't with him. But now, seeing her this way, he knew one thing for certain.
He would never let her go through this alone again.
As the first light of dawn crept through the curtains, Aisha's fever finally broke. Rishi let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He reached for her hand, squeezing it gently.
"You'll be okay, Aisha," he murmured. "And I'll be right here when you wake up."
At some point, exhaustion took over, and he dozed off beside her bed, his head resting near her hand.
Aisha stirred, her body weak but no longer burning up. Her eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the dim lighting of the room. For a moment, she felt lost, but as she turned her head, her gaze fell upon Rishi, fast asleep beside her bed.
Her heart skipped a beat.
The sight of him....his face calm, his hand still lightly wrapped around hers....sent a strange sensation through her chest. And then, like a flood, a memory surfaced.
She had been sick once before, years ago, when she was away from her parents. She had been miserable, feverish, alone. But Rishi had stayed with her, just like this, taking care of her, refusing to leave her side. He had held her hand back then too, whispering reassurances in the darkness, making sure she never felt alone.
A lump formed in her throat as she stared at him. How many times had he been there for her? How many times had she taken his presence for granted?
Without thinking, without hesitation, she reached out. Her fingers gently brushed his hair, and before she could stop herself, she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead....just like she had done in childhood, just like he had done for her before.
Rishi stirred slightly but didn't wake. Aisha pulled back, her heart pounding, an unfamiliar warmth spreading through her.
She lay back down, staring at the ceiling, her mind clouded with thoughts she couldn't quite understand.
What was this feeling?
And why did it feel… safe?
The warmth of the moment sent an unfamiliar flutter through her heart. But before she could dwell on it, she pushed the thought away and quietly got up.
She felt parched, her throat dry from the fever. Slipping out of bed carefully, she made her way downstairs to fetch a glass of water.
Meanwhile, Rishi woke up with a sudden jolt, instinctively reaching for Aisha, only to find the space beside him empty. His chest tightened as panic gripped him.
"Aisha?" His voice was hoarse as he sat up, scanning the dimly lit room.
The sight of the open door sent his heart racing. Without wasting a second, he bolted out, his mind spiraling with worry. His footsteps were quick and urgent as he rushed downstairs....until he finally spotted her.
She stood by the kitchen counter, sipping a glass of water, her expression unreadable. The soft glow of the night lamp outlined her delicate features, but she seemed lost in thought.
Relief crashed into him like a tidal wave, and before he could think twice, he strode toward her.
Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his chest. His grip was firm, almost desperate, as if grounding himself in the fact that she was safe.
Aisha stiffened, caught off guard by the sudden embrace. Her fingers twitched against his shirt, unsure whether to push him away or let herself sink into his warmth. But then she felt it....the erratic beat of his heart, the slight tremble in his hold.
For a fleeting moment, she stayed still.
Then, as if snapping back to reality, Rishi hesitated. His arms loosened, and he quickly stepped back, clearing his throat as he ran a hand through his hair. His gaze flickered away, guarded, like he had crossed an unspoken boundary.
Aisha noticed the tension in his shoulders, the way he suddenly avoided her eyes. Sensing the need to break the silence, she shifted the conversation.
"So… um, my clothes…" she started, looking down at the fresh change of attire she was wearing.
Rishi immediately understood what she was implying. "It wasn't me," he reassured her. "I asked the head maid to help. You don't have to worry."
Aisha nodded, accepting his answer, though something about the entire moment left a strange, lingering warmth between them ....something neither of them acknowledged, yet neither could ignore.
Rishi exhaled slowly, leaning against the kitchen counter as he crossed his arms. "By the way, I should probably tell you… I'll have to stay here for a few days."
Aisha, still sipping her water, raised an eyebrow. "And why is that?"
He sighed dramatically. "Well, all of my houses are under renovation, and unfortunately, I'm just a poor homeless man now."
She narrowed her eyes. "You own three penthouses and two villas."
"Exactly. Homeless." He placed a hand over his heart as if deeply wounded. "Unless, of course, my kind and generous host is kicking me out in this condition?"
Aisha let out a tired sigh. "Fine. Do whatever you want."
Rishi grinned. "Wow, no argument? You really must not be feeling well."
She rolled her eyes and turned to leave, but he wasn't done. "I mean, I wouldn't mind sleeping in your room, if you insist...."
"Guest room." Aisha cut him off, shooting him a warning glare.
He chuckled, hands raised in surrender. "Alright, alright. Guest room it is. For now."
She shook her head, too drained to keep up with his antics. As she started heading upstairs, he called after her. "Sweet dreams, Aisha. Try not to miss me too much."
She didn't bother responding, but as she slipped under her covers, a tiny, unwilling smile ghosted her lips, she heard the faint sound of his footsteps retreating down the hall. And for the first time in what felt like forever, she didn't feel completely alone.
Sleep came easier that night.