2 hours ago
Chapter 143 - Do you still love mithra ?
That night, the air in their bedroom was thick with desire. Tharun was in a passionate mood, and Nikitha gave herself to him completely. Their bodies moved together with urgency and heat. For a while, everything else faded—the café conversation, the guilt, the ghosts of the past. It was just the two of them, skin against skin, lost in each other.
But when Tharun, breathing hard and ready for a second round, leaned in again, Nikitha gently stopped him, placing a hand on his chest.
“What?” he asked, surprised, his voice husky.
“The second round… it doesn’t suit us right now,” she said softly. “Something always comes up.”
Tharun raised an eyebrow, a small smile playing on his lips. “So what came up now, darling?”
Nikitha hesitated, biting her lip. “I’ll ask… but you have to be completely honest. And you can’t get mad.”
He searched her eyes for a moment, then nodded. “Sure. Go ahead.”
She took a deep breath. “Do you still remember Mithra? Her memories… you haven’t forgotten her, have you?”
Tharun looked at her steadily. “Did you forget Jay? Tell me honestly.”
“I don’t forget him,” Nikitha admitted quietly. “But I practise thinking about you more. I try to focus on us.”
Tharun gave a small, tired smile. “I’m doing the same. Anyone who has truly fallen in love can’t just hate the person or erase them overnight. But we can practise forgetting the pain. We can choose to love someone new and move on. That’s what I’m doing.”
Saying this, he lay back down beside her. His arousal had faded. Nikitha turned toward him, her bare breasts pressing against his chest as she looked into his eyes.
“So… you still love her?” she whispered.
Tharun met her gaze. “I love you more than anything.”
It was a brutally honest answer. Yet deep down, Nikitha realised the truth: he had not fully let Mithra go. Just like Mithra had said—Tharun still carried her in his heart.
The weight of that realisation settled heavily on her. Suddenly, Mithra’s words echoed in her mind again. The guilt hit harder than ever. She was the reason for two people’s broken hearts—for the second time. An unexpected, cruel coincidence.
Jay’s second love—her—had moved on to Tharun, leaving Jay devastated once more. And now, for Mithra, her second love—Tharun—was being taken away by the same woman. Nikitha had become the common thread of pain in both their lives.
She thought of how Mithra had said her life would never be the same after this second heartbreak. It explained why Jay had remained single, avoiding marriage or new relationships, and instead stayed entangled with Sharmi, who was already married. Perhaps he now feared love and commitment entirely. Mithra seemed to be walking the same lonely path.
The guilt disturbed Nikitha deeply, settling like a stone in her chest. What if someone like Mithra had appeared before me back then and shown me what I was doing? Would I have still left Jay so drastically? Would I have listened?
She realised, painfully and clearly, that she was still hurt. And beneath all the practised detachment… she still loved Jay. The feelings hadn’t disappeared; they had only been buried under layers of anger and disappointment.
And if she was still carrying that pain for Jay… what if Tharun was carrying the same quiet ache for Mithra?
Should I take the position Mithra was in and ask him directly? Can I handle the answer?
Nikitha lay still for a long moment, the silence stretching between them. The only sounds were their breathing and the faint ticking of the wall clock. Her heart pounded heavily. Finally, gathering every bit of courage she had, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Tharun…”
She paused, swallowing hard.
“…if you still love Mithra… go to her. I won’t feel bad. I can handle it.”
Tharun sat up abruptly, the sheet slipping down his waist. He stared at her, confusion and shock written across his face.
“Why suddenly?” His voice was sharp with disbelief. “Did my parents say something? Or… did Mithra contact you?”
Nikitha sat up too, slowly pulling the sheet around her bare body like a shield. She hesitated, her fingers tightening on the fabric.
“Yes… I met Mithra.” She took a shaky breath. “She’s sweet, Tharun. I just wanted to make sure. I don’t want to be a homewrecker.” She winced at her own words. “I’m sorry for the choice of words, but if you love her… go. I’ll be okay. She’s been through so much. I mercilessly snatched her life… and yours. I can feel it now.”
For a second, Tharun simply stared at her. Then his anger flared instantly. He rose from the bed, pacing a few steps away, naked and restless.
“Why all of a sudden do you want me to leave?” His voice rose. “You still love Jay and want to go back to him, don’t you? Is that what this is really about?”
Nikitha’s eyes filled with tears. She blinked rapidly, trying to hold them back, but her voice cracked anyway.
“Is that all you think of me?” She paused, hurt flashing across her face. “If I wanted that… I would never have come here in the first place.”
The room fell quiet again. Tharun stood still for a long moment, his shoulders tense. Then he exhaled sharply, the anger draining from him as quickly as it had come. He ran a hand through his hair and walked back to the bed.
“I’m sorry…” he murmured. “I’m sorry, Nikitha.” He apologised a few more times, his tone softening. The commotion slowly settled as he climbed back onto the bed and pulled her gently into his arms.
He held her close, stroking her back. They shared a kiss—soft, lingering, and tinged with a deep, unspoken sadness. When they finally pulled apart, both of them had tears glistening in their eyes.
Only they knew the real reasons behind those tears.
That night, the air in their bedroom was thick with desire. Tharun was in a passionate mood, and Nikitha gave herself to him completely. Their bodies moved together with urgency and heat. For a while, everything else faded—the café conversation, the guilt, the ghosts of the past. It was just the two of them, skin against skin, lost in each other.
But when Tharun, breathing hard and ready for a second round, leaned in again, Nikitha gently stopped him, placing a hand on his chest.
“What?” he asked, surprised, his voice husky.
“The second round… it doesn’t suit us right now,” she said softly. “Something always comes up.”
Tharun raised an eyebrow, a small smile playing on his lips. “So what came up now, darling?”
Nikitha hesitated, biting her lip. “I’ll ask… but you have to be completely honest. And you can’t get mad.”
He searched her eyes for a moment, then nodded. “Sure. Go ahead.”
She took a deep breath. “Do you still remember Mithra? Her memories… you haven’t forgotten her, have you?”
Tharun looked at her steadily. “Did you forget Jay? Tell me honestly.”
“I don’t forget him,” Nikitha admitted quietly. “But I practise thinking about you more. I try to focus on us.”
Tharun gave a small, tired smile. “I’m doing the same. Anyone who has truly fallen in love can’t just hate the person or erase them overnight. But we can practise forgetting the pain. We can choose to love someone new and move on. That’s what I’m doing.”
Saying this, he lay back down beside her. His arousal had faded. Nikitha turned toward him, her bare breasts pressing against his chest as she looked into his eyes.
“So… you still love her?” she whispered.
Tharun met her gaze. “I love you more than anything.”
It was a brutally honest answer. Yet deep down, Nikitha realised the truth: he had not fully let Mithra go. Just like Mithra had said—Tharun still carried her in his heart.
The weight of that realisation settled heavily on her. Suddenly, Mithra’s words echoed in her mind again. The guilt hit harder than ever. She was the reason for two people’s broken hearts—for the second time. An unexpected, cruel coincidence.
Jay’s second love—her—had moved on to Tharun, leaving Jay devastated once more. And now, for Mithra, her second love—Tharun—was being taken away by the same woman. Nikitha had become the common thread of pain in both their lives.
She thought of how Mithra had said her life would never be the same after this second heartbreak. It explained why Jay had remained single, avoiding marriage or new relationships, and instead stayed entangled with Sharmi, who was already married. Perhaps he now feared love and commitment entirely. Mithra seemed to be walking the same lonely path.
The guilt disturbed Nikitha deeply, settling like a stone in her chest. What if someone like Mithra had appeared before me back then and shown me what I was doing? Would I have still left Jay so drastically? Would I have listened?
She realised, painfully and clearly, that she was still hurt. And beneath all the practised detachment… she still loved Jay. The feelings hadn’t disappeared; they had only been buried under layers of anger and disappointment.
And if she was still carrying that pain for Jay… what if Tharun was carrying the same quiet ache for Mithra?
Should I take the position Mithra was in and ask him directly? Can I handle the answer?
Nikitha lay still for a long moment, the silence stretching between them. The only sounds were their breathing and the faint ticking of the wall clock. Her heart pounded heavily. Finally, gathering every bit of courage she had, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Tharun…”
She paused, swallowing hard.
“…if you still love Mithra… go to her. I won’t feel bad. I can handle it.”
Tharun sat up abruptly, the sheet slipping down his waist. He stared at her, confusion and shock written across his face.
“Why suddenly?” His voice was sharp with disbelief. “Did my parents say something? Or… did Mithra contact you?”
Nikitha sat up too, slowly pulling the sheet around her bare body like a shield. She hesitated, her fingers tightening on the fabric.
“Yes… I met Mithra.” She took a shaky breath. “She’s sweet, Tharun. I just wanted to make sure. I don’t want to be a homewrecker.” She winced at her own words. “I’m sorry for the choice of words, but if you love her… go. I’ll be okay. She’s been through so much. I mercilessly snatched her life… and yours. I can feel it now.”
For a second, Tharun simply stared at her. Then his anger flared instantly. He rose from the bed, pacing a few steps away, naked and restless.
“Why all of a sudden do you want me to leave?” His voice rose. “You still love Jay and want to go back to him, don’t you? Is that what this is really about?”
Nikitha’s eyes filled with tears. She blinked rapidly, trying to hold them back, but her voice cracked anyway.
“Is that all you think of me?” She paused, hurt flashing across her face. “If I wanted that… I would never have come here in the first place.”
The room fell quiet again. Tharun stood still for a long moment, his shoulders tense. Then he exhaled sharply, the anger draining from him as quickly as it had come. He ran a hand through his hair and walked back to the bed.
“I’m sorry…” he murmured. “I’m sorry, Nikitha.” He apologised a few more times, his tone softening. The commotion slowly settled as he climbed back onto the bed and pulled her gently into his arms.
He held her close, stroking her back. They shared a kiss—soft, lingering, and tinged with a deep, unspoken sadness. When they finally pulled apart, both of them had tears glistening in their eyes.
Only they knew the real reasons behind those tears.
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