It poured endlessly against the glass walls of the Mauritius mansion, turning the ocean outside into a dark blur of silver and black.

Inside the bedroom, silence wrapped around everything softly.

Kavira sat beside Karl Casanova on the floor near the bed, knees pulled to her chest.

After hearing about his childhood…

Something inside her had opened too.

Karl noticed it immediately.

The way her fingers trembled.

The way she kept staring at nothing.

He gently touched her hand.

“What are you thinking about?”

Kavira stayed quiet for a moment.

Then she whispered softly,

“You asked me once… why loud voices scare me so much.”

Karl’s expression changed instantly.

He turned fully toward her.

“Kavira…”

She shook her head slightly.

“No… let me say it.”

Her voice was steady.

But her eyes weren’t.

“I know what it feels like,” she whispered, “to grow up in a house where love felt like punishment.”

Karl’s jaw tightened silently.

Kavira stared down at her fingers.

“My father…” she paused weakly, “…he always shouted at me.”

The room felt colder suddenly.

“No matter what I did.”

“If I laughed too loudly—he shouted.”

“If I cried—he shouted.”

“If I made mistakes—he shouted.”

Karl’s hands slowly curled into fists.

“And when he got angry…” her voice trembled slightly, “…he used to break things.”

She closed her eyes.

“Doors slamming… glasses breaking… plates thrown on walls…”

Her breathing became uneven.

“I hate when people break things in anger,” she whispered shakily. “It scares me the most.”

Karl instantly moved closer.

“Kavira,” he said softly, “breathe.”

But she kept going.

Like years of pain were finally spilling out.

“I remember standing quietly in shops,” she said with a broken smile. “Looking at things I wanted…”

“Dresses.”

“Shoes.”

“Small toys.”

“Books.”

“But I stopped asking for them.”

Karl looked at her carefully.

“Why?”

“Because they never bought me anything,” she admitted quietly. “Not if I wanted it.”

Her eyes filled with tears.

“So I used to just stare at things from far away and think…”

A tear slipped down her cheek.

“I’ll buy it myself when I grow up.”

Karl’s chest tightened painfully.

Kavira laughed weakly through tears.

“Even as a child… I already knew nobody would give me anything lovingly.”

Silence shattered around them softly.

Then came the worst part.

“My family always made me feel like I didn’t belong there.”

Karl looked at her sharply.

“What do you mean?”

Kavira swallowed hard.

“In our society…” she whispered, “…people say girls don’t really have a home.”

Her smile broke completely.

“Ladkiyo ka koi ghar nahi hota.”

“They used to say I belonged to my future husband’s house… not theirs.”

Her breathing shook now.

“And whenever there were fights in the house…”

Her voice cracked.

“My mother used to blame me.”

Karl froze completely.

Kavira stared ahead blankly.

She could still hear the words.

“Just because of you there are fights in this house.”

“Children like you ruin families.”

“It’s better to stay childless than have a daughter like you.”

Karl shut his eyes briefly.

Like hearing those words physically hurt him.

But Kavira wasn’t done.

“I used to cry sometimes,” she whispered.

“And even then…”

Her lips trembled violently.

“Don’t show me these fake crocodile tears.”

“Stop acting.”

“Drama queen.”

Karl’s breathing deepened dangerously.

His hands shook.

But Kavira kept speaking softly.

Like she had waited her whole life for someone to finally listen.

“My father loved my brother differently.”

Not jealous.

Just hurt.

“They bought him whatever he wanted.”

“They never shouted at him.”

“Even when we fought, it was always my fault.”

Her voice cracked completely now.

“And one day…”

Karl immediately looked at her.

Kavira’s eyes filled with fear even remembering it.

“He slapped me.”

Karl’s entire body went still.

“He shouted at me and said…”

Her breathing broke.

“You should just go and die.”

The room became suffocatingly silent.

Kavira hugged herself tightly.

“And then he said…”

Her tears finally fell freely now.

“I won’t even care if you’re dead.”

Karl looked destroyed.

Actually destroyed.

Not angry.

Not cold.

Destroyed.

Kavira laughed weakly through tears.

“So when people leave…” she whispered, “I automatically think it’s because I’m hard to love.”

Karl immediately grabbed her face gently.

“No.”

His voice was firm.

Painfully firm.

“Kavira, look at me.”

She slowly did.

“You were a child.”

His eyes were red now.

“A child asking to be loved.”

More tears slipped down her cheeks.

Karl brushed them away carefully.

“And they failed you,” he whispered.

“Not the other way around.”

Kavira broke completely after hearing that.

Because nobody had ever said those words before.

Nobody.

She started crying silently into his chest, years of pain collapsing out of her all at once.

Karl held her tightly.

Protectively.

Not possessively.

Different this time.

His hand moved slowly through her hair as he whispered softly,

“You know what hurts me the most?”

Kavira looked up weakly.

“That you learned to survive without asking for love.”

Her lips trembled.

Karl rested his forehead against hers.

“You don’t have to earn love here,” he whispered.

And for the first time in her entire life—

Kavira believed she had a home.