Chapter 3: Husband?

Mikalya’s P.O.V

The moment my lips touched Abhay's, a face from the past flashed across my mind. Rhys.

His piercing gaze, the way he used to look at me, all of it came rushing back like a tidal wave, drowning out everything else. I froze, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest, and I had to pull away. I saw the confusion written all over Abhay’s face, his eyes searching mine for an explanation. He didn’t deserve this—whatever it was I was doing to him.

Hell! What the hell were we even doing?

"I… I can't do this," I said hastily, taking in a deep, shuddering breath. I took a step back, wrapping my arms around myself as if that could shield me from the storm of emotions brewing inside me.

"Things between us… they’re more than complicated, Abhay. After seventeen years, I don't even know if I know who you are anymore."

He blinked at me, taken aback by my words. For a moment, I thought he might say something sharp or defensive, but instead, he nodded and stepped back, giving me space.

Always so considerate, even now. It made my chest tighten further.

"Mikalya," he started, his tone careful, like he was treading on thin ice, "I’m not sure what just happened, but... I’ll give you the space you need. Just... tell me what’s going on in your head. Why does it feel like you’re carrying the weight of the world?"

I shook my head, taking a deep breath to steady myself before I faced him, ready to face my past head on. I needed to find answers and only Abhay could give them to me.

“We can talk about that late, Abhay,” I told him. “For now, tell me what really happened? How did you even end up here? How are you even alive?”

He hesitated for a moment, his jaw tightening, as though trying to piece together how much to share.

"I… woke up sixteen years ago," he said slowly, his voice tinged with an odd mix of disbelief and resignation. "After being in a coma for over a year. When I opened my eyes, I was here—this pack. The healers were the ones who saved me."

I stared at him, the words sinking in, but they felt unreal, like they belonged to someone else’s story.

“Sixteen years ago?” I echoed, my brows furrowing. “You were here all this time? And you didn’t try to find me?”

Abhay winced, running a hand through his hair. “I couldn’t, Mikalya. When I woke up, I didn’t remember anything—where I was from, who I was… you. Nothing at all.” He looked away, his voice lowering.

“It took years for me to start to speak again. I had to learn everything from scratch…reading, writing…my education. Everything I knew was just…gone.”

I swallowed hard, feeling the sting of his words. I turned away, staring at the ground as my mind spiraled. Rhys’s face, Abhay’s words, the tangled mess of my own feelings—everything felt like too much.

Abhay—no, Lee Xi, as he’d been called all these years—stared at me, his eyes scanning mine like he was trying to piece together a puzzle that had once been whole.

“When did you know it was me?” His voice cracked slightly, not from emotion, but from the effort of forming words he must have had to relearn. “At the borders?”

I nodded, swallowing hard. “As soon as I saw you. You might have looked different, Abhay, but it was your eyes. They never changed. They can’t.” My voice faltered as the emotions bubbled up again.

“I just…I’m still not used to this. Seeing you here, standing in front of me…”

“Trust me, I know how you feel.” He looked away, his hands knotting together in his lap, a flicker of frustration in his eyes. “I didn’t even know how to speak,” he admitted quietly.

“It was like... like waking up in a world I didn’t belong to. They found me, gave me a name—Lee Xi—and taught me everything all over again. I had to learn how to live, how to survive... how to be a wolf.”

“Your wolf,” I murmured. “You didn’t even know you had one?”

He shook his head. “Not at first. It was like he was a stranger, pacing in my mind, wild and angry, but I didn’t know why. It took years to understand him, to become one with him. But even then, there was always something missing.” His gaze locked onto mine, and suddenly,

I saw the shift in his expression. His voice, stronger now, carried a mix of wonder and pain.

“It was you. As soon as I saw you, Mikalya, everything came back to me. Like a dam breaking.”

I sucked in a breath, my heart thudding against my ribcage. “Everything?”

“Everything,” he repeated, leaning forward as if he couldn’t bear the distance between us. “I remembered the deserts of Gujarat, the way the sun felt on my skin, the taste of the spiced chai we drank under the stars. I remembered calling you ‘firangi’ because you were so out of place there, but you didn’t care. You walked like you owned the deserts, like you were the ruler of those lands.”

A soft laugh escaped me, though it sounded more like a sob. “I hated it at first, the sand, the memories buried deep in them... but you made me love it. You made me love everything.”

His hand reached out, tentative, as if he wasn’t sure he was allowed to touch me. When I didn’t pull away, he covered my hands with his, his warmth grounding me in the moment.

“I remembered everything about you, Mikalya,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “But then I remembered something else. Something I’ve been too afraid to ask.”

My breath hitched, my fingers curling around his instinctively. “What is it?” 

“Our child,” he said, his voice trembling. “Where is our child, Mikalya? How is... how is my child doing?” 

The question hit me like a blow, and I felt tears sting my eyes as I struggled to form the words.

“Abhay...” I began, but the look in his eyes, so raw and desperate, it made my heart clench. “Our child... is safe. They’re strong, like you. Like us.”

“We… we have a daughter, Abhay,” I said, the words tasting foreign, even after all these years of keeping them locked away.

“She’s almost eighteen now. I named her Alaya.” My voice cracked on her name, the one we had whispered together once, in dreams of a future that had crumbled too soon. 

He froze, his expression shifting into something raw and unguarded. “Alaya?” he repeated, the name like a lifeline on his tongue.

“You named her Alaya. Just like we… Oh, God, Mikalya.” His voice broke, and he took a hesitant step toward me, his hands trembling at his sides. 

I nodded, biting the inside of my cheek to keep the tears at bay. “Just like we talked about. 'I—” My words faltered. How was I supposed to explain the sleepless nights, the countless times I’d hold my baby in my arms and imagine…hope, that her father would be here to see her grow? To see her thrive?

“She knows about you, about us…but, she’s never really seen you. I keep the pictures of us in an album, but they are mostly of me. You loved to take pictures of me…but you weren’t in them.”

His face crumpled, and he dropped to his knees as if the weight of everything had finally buckled him.

“Eighteen years, Mikalya. I’ve missed her entire life. All her firsts. Her childhood. Her laughter… her tears. Please, let me see her. Please.” 

“You will,” I promised, my voice firm despite the storm of emotions churning inside me. “But you have to take this slowly. She doesn’t know you yet, Abhay. She has never known you. We’ll have to—”

“I’ll learn,” he interrupted, his determination lighting a fire in his eyes. “I’ll do whatever it takes, Mikalya. Just... just give me a chance to be the father I was supposed to be.” 

I squeezed his hand, a mixture of hope and fear surging through me. “You’ve always had a place in our lives, Abhay. Now you just have to find your way back. But it’s not going to be simple, or easy. I will need to explain this to her…explain something that I don’t even understand myself.” 

He shot to his feet, closing the space between us, his hand gripping mine with a fervor that left me breathless.

“Take all the time you need, Mikalya. But don’t shut me out. Don’t shut her out. Let me be a part of her life. Let me make up for all those years.” 

I swallowed hard, pulling my hand free. “We need time too, Abhay. You and me. There’s so much between us… so much we never said. I don’t even know where we stand anymore.” 

His eyes softened, and he nodded, though the agony lingered in his gaze. “I understand. I’ll wait as long as it takes. Just don’t take her away from me completely.” 

Before I could respond, a woman’s voice rang out sharply from the other side of the tent. “Let me in. I need to see my husband.” 

The words hit me like a physical blow, and my breath hitched as I turned to Abhay, my heart thundering painfully in my chest. He stiffened, the color draining from his face, and the room seemed to close in around us. 

“Husband?” I whispered, the word burning like acid on my tongue. My vision blurred as his silence answered the question I hadn’t yet asked.