Alisha

1 Year later in Mumbai

"When Will He Arrive?"
I whispered to myself, glancing once more at the quiet road ahead. It was early morning, the sun just beginning to stretch across the city skyline, and I was already here-waiting. Waiting for a stranger. Waiting for a blind date.

How did I end up here?

It all started with Ramya. According to her, my writing lacked spice-especially in the romance department. "You know technique," she had said during one of our feedback sessions, "but your words don't feel anything. Where's the flutter in the chest? The ache, the longing, the raw, reckless pull of desire?"

I'd attended more writing workshops than I could count, studied structure, mastered dialogue, nailed pacing-but the one thing I apparently couldn't write was what it felt like proximity of love.

So, naturally, Soumya decided to take matters into her own hands.

Her solution? A blind date.

Not a normal one. Not a two-hour coffee meet-and-greet where you can fake smile your way out of the awkward silences. No-this was a 24-hour date. From 8 a.m. today to 8 a.m. tomorrow. One full day, start to finish, with a man I'd never met.

When Soumya first told me about it, I flat-out refused.

"A full day? With a stranger? Are you insane?"

But Soumya, in her usual childlike wisdom laced with hidden sharpness, just smiled and said, "He's not a stranger by heart. And he's not bad looking either."

I don't know why I always give in to her so easily.

And now, here I am.

Standing by the roadside, clutching my bag a little too tightly. A few minutes to 8, and I'm already nervous beyond words. My heart is thumping like it knows something I don't. Every car that passes makes me straighten, only to slump back when it's not him.

I've never felt this... stupid.

Why did I agree to this?

More importantly... what if he doesn't show up?

And yet, deep down, beneath all the panic and self-doubt, there's a strange pull-a quiet, restless hope-that maybe, just maybe, this is the story I've been waiting to write. Not from imagination. Not from borrowed feelings.

But from living it.

And I suppose it starts with this moment.
This breathless wait.

Just as I was about to give up and curse Soumya for putting me through this torture, a bike screeched to a stop right in front of me.

The rider wore a helmet, so I couldn't see his face-and something about his sudden arrival, the way he lingered silently, made me a little uneasy. Instinctively, I started walking away, stepping onto the footpath. My pace quickened, hoping he wasn't one of those creepy types.

And then-
"Hello, my beautiful date," he called from behind.

I froze.

Turning around slowly, heart jumping, I saw him take off his helmet in a deliberately dramatic slow-motion, like like he was auditioning for a romantic lead in a Bollywood film.

I stared, silently, the words caught somewhere between disbelief and confusion.

He caught my expression and smirked, tilting his head with mock innocence. "Do you see anyone else around? Obviously, I'm talking to you."

I took a few steps toward him, still wary, and asked, "Soumya sent you?"

A wide grin spread across his face. "Of course. I'm your blind date partner. Not good-looking enough?"

I raised an eyebrow. "No... you actually look good."

He leaned slightly forward, a boyish charm in his tone. "Better than what Soumya described?"

I shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. "Yes. Better than I expected, honestly."

He gave a triumphant nod, like he'd just won a bet with the universe. "YES..Knew it. That girl has no idea how to describe people. She's terrible at it."

I narrowed my eyes. "What are you even saying?"

He grinned wider, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Tell me one thing-did your heartbeat race when you saw me?"

His question caught me off guard. I frowned. His confidence was beginning to annoy me. "No. Not at all," I replied flatly. "And don't you think we should at least get to know each other before asking such... absurd things?"

He raised both hands in mock surrender. "Fair enough. But getting to know me won't stop you from agreeing to another date, I promise."

I folded my arms, already irritated. "We haven't even started this one properly and you're ruining it with your overconfidence."

"Okay, okay," he said quickly, straightening up. "main chup ho jata hu tab."
(I stay quiet then)

"Good," I muttered.

For a few moments, silence stretched between us. Then, awkwardly, he said, "So... are we going somewhere? Or are we just going to stand here for the next twenty-four hours?"

I looked at him and his bike and frowned. "Why did you even bring a bike?"

He looked confused. "Because that's what I have. I'm not rich enough to show up in a car."

I sighed deeply, frustration bubbling inside me.

Sensing my reaction, he added lightly, "If you were expecting someone with a car, you might to check with Soumya again. She's got a list of those."

I walked over to the edge of the footpath and sat down without a word. My mood had officially shifted to irritated and unwilling. I didn't want to go anywhere with this guy.

To my surprise, he parked his bike and followed, sitting down right across from me, I looked at him, and for a brief second, our eyes met.

He didn't speak. Neither did I.

The city buzzed around us, but between us there was just silence-
charged, awkward, and something else I couldn't name.

"I know..." he said softly, breaking the silence "You probably didn't want to come. But I'm guessing Soumya convinced you."

His voice was calm. Understanding. Not mocking. And that made me look at him-really look at him-for the first time without the irritation clouding my thoughts.

"Look," he continued, "don't feel like just because you showed up, you can't back out now. You still can. If you want to go home, you absolutely should. I'm not afraid of getting rejected by women-trust me."

There was no ego in his words, just quiet honesty. And something in me shifted.

"If you'd said something like that in the beginning..." I murmured, the corners of my lips finally lifting, "we'd probably be halfway through our date by now."

He smiled at that-just a small, crooked smile. I couldn't help but smile back.

"I'm Aransh," he said after a pause. "Didn't feel like telling you before... but now I do."

"Alisha Parmar," I replied, still smiling.

"I know," he said.

My smile faded slightly. I blinked. "You know? How?"

"I mean... Soumya didn't tell me anything about you," I added quickly, unsure if I should feel flattered or weirded out.

He didn't meet my eyes. His gaze dropped to the ground, tracing invisible patterns on the road with his foot.

I turned away from him, looking at the road ahead as cars passed by with their own destinations, their own timelines.

"If she didn't tell me anything," I said slowly, "then she shouldn't have told you either. That's... not fair."

Before I could gather the full weight of what I was feeling, he gently reached for my hand, stood up, and-without saying a word-helped me to my feet too.

"Shall we go?" he asked, looking directly into my eyes. "Or... did you change your mind again?"

I paused, and then let out the tiniest breath of surrender.
"No. Let's go," I said.

I climbed onto the back of his bike. He handed me a helmet, and I slid it over my head, fingers fumbling with the strap. I was almost done when he suddenly turned, reaching back.

"Let me do it," he said, and before I could protest, he was already securing the strap beneath my chin.

"I could've done it myself," I muttered, half-defensive.

"I know," he replied, not missing a beat. "But I wanted to do it."

Then he turned forward again and kick-started the bike.
We took off without a map or any set destination, just going wherever the wind-and the moment-took us.

∆∆°•°∆∆

After riding for what felt like ages, we finally slowed near a quiet roadside tea stall-just one of those tiny tin-roofed places with plastic stools and the scent of boiling milk and ginger hanging in the air.

Without a word, Aransh parked the bike and got off. I followed.
We sat down on the bench, and a moment later, he returned with two steaming clay cups of chai-kulhads, warm to the touch and earthy in smell.

Taking a cautious sip, I looked at him and asked, "So... what do we talk about now?"

He mirrored me with a sip of his own, then shrugged casually. "Whatever you feel like."

I hesitated, then admitted, "I've never been on a date before. Not like this. Not... ever."

His eyebrows lifted slightly, genuinely surprised. "Really?"

I just nodded. No elaboration. No explanations.

"Okay then," I said, trying to recover from the slight awkwardness, "let's at least share a few things about ourselves. You start."

He opened his mouth, but I quickly added, "Actually... I don't want to share much with you. I'm not here to make friends."

He clutched his chest dramatically. "Ouch. That hurt. Right here."
But there was laughter behind his words, not resentment.

"Then lie to me," he offered, eyes twinkling.

I frowned. "Lie?"

"Yeah. Make up stuff. We have to spend twenty-four hours together, might as well talk about something, even if it's fiction."

Before I could respond, he reached over and gently took the empty kulhad from my hands, stood up, and paid the chaiwala. There was a brief exchange-no change available. Aransh pulled out his phone, trying to scan the QR for UPI payment, but the screen showed no network.

He looked at me helplessly.

I sighed and held out my phone. "Here. Use mine."

He took it with a nod, scanned the code, and was just about to hand the phone back when he paused.
His eyes lingered on the screen for half a second.

Then he handed it over without a word.

I completed the payment and caught him looking at me curiously.

"You don't trust me, do you?" he asked.

I blinked. "What?"

"You've kept your live location on," he said softly. "To share with someone. I saw the icon."

I hesitated, caught off guard. Then slowly, I replied, "It's the first time I'm meeting you. How can I just... trust you?"

"Fair point," he nodded, no offense taken. "Who are you sharing it with?"

"Ramya and Soumya," I answered.

He chuckled under his breath. "Of course. Soumya..." He shook his head with a half-smile.

I looked at him curiously. "What?"

"You don't like her?" I asked.

"No, it's not that," he said. "It's just... she's not my type. We went to college together, yes, and we're friends. But that's it."

I tilted my head. "So no secret love story between you two?"

He gave a dry smile. "Soumya sees the world through this lens of constant sunshine. Always laughing. Always brushing off life's darker parts like they're dust on her sleeves. She's too... light. I'm not wired like that."

There was something about the way he said it that made me go quiet.

Then, without warning, I asked, "Then why did you say yes to this? To a date with me?"

It came out more vulnerable than I intended. And I regretted asking almost immediately.

He paused. A long one. As if he was searching for words and failing to find them.

But instead of answering, he simply stood up and walked to his bike.

"Come on," he said over his shoulder, slipping his helmet on.

I just followed him, climbed onto the seat behind him, and we rode off-no words, no destination, and even fewer answers.

∆∆°•°∆∆

We had stopped by the side of a quiet highway-just the two of us, with the endless road behind and a vast open view in front. The sky was painted in blue, the wind light, carrying with it the smell of dry fields and wildflowers.

We weren't talking much-just letting the silence rest between us, strangely comfortable.

Then he spoke.
"Tell me a lie," he said, his voice low and curious, as if challenging the moment.

I took a deep breath, feeling something rise in my throat-something that didn't feel like a lie at all.

"I was in love with someone... I mean, I used to be in love," I corrected myself quickly, noticing how his head turned slightly toward me at the slip.

I looked straight ahead, not at him. "To get his attention... his love-I pretended to date one of his frenemy. Someone who drained him. I thought it would make him jealous. I thought he'd realise he had feelings for me and finally... say it."

Aransh didn't say anything for a moment. Then he asked gently, "And what happened next?"

I let out a hollow laugh. "It backfired. He never loved me. No matter what I did."

There was a pause, like the universe holding its breath.

"That's your truth, isn't it?" he said, narrowing his eyes slightly as he looked at me. "Your real truth."

I panicked. My voice stumbled. "No. No, it's not. I mean-it's the plot of my next story. A... fictional character, not me."

He let out a laugh that was too knowing.
"A plot, huh?"

I nudged his shoulder lightly. "Yeah, and don't even think about stealing it. You're not a writer."

He grinned. "True. I'm not a writer. But do you want to hear my lie now?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Sure."

He looked at the horizon and said, "I want to be a hero. I've only ever played supporting roles so far, but deep down-I dream of being the lead."

There was something both whimsical and aching in his voice.

I smiled. "Your dream will come true one day. I believe that."

But he turned to me, eyes unexpectedly serious. "That was the lie."

I laughed-not because it was funny, but because I didn't know what else to do with the strange sadness in that moment.

Then suddenly, I saw something.

A car passed in front of us-sleek, tinted windows. Just for a second, my eyes caught a blur through the glass. A girl. Her mouth was moving-no sound, but it was clear she was screaming for help. One hand was hitting the window.

My body stiffened.

"Aransh," I said sharply, turning to him. "We need to help her."

He followed my gaze, saw the car disappearing down the road.

"Let it go, Alisha," he said quickly. "We don't get into these trouble."

"She needs help," I repeated firmly, already standing.

He hesitated for a moment. I could see him calculating. Then he swore under his breath.

"Fine. Let's go. But for the record-that's the Minister's daughter in that car."

I turned to him, stunned. "Minister's daughter?"

He swung his leg over the bike. "Yes. Now either sit or she disappears. You call police."

Without a second thought, I jumped behind him. He started the engine, tires screeching slightly as we pulled back onto the road.

And just like that, our slow, awkward blind date turned into a chase-
not just after a car, but after something much bigger than either of us had imagined when this day began.

I called the police the moment we began following the car.

By the time we reached an abandoned godown tucked behind the industrial stretch of the highway, the sun was dipping low, casting long shadows and painting everything in a burnt orange hue.

We parked the bike quietly and moved in on foot, careful not to make a sound. Through a broken window, we saw her-the same girl from the car. She was tied to a chair, struggling, her wrists bound and her mouth taped. Two men stood near her, arguing over something we couldn't hear.

We didn't move. We just... watched, hiding in the shadows, hoping backup would arrive soon.

Minutes passed like hours. And then, finally, the distant wail of sirens echoed through the air. Within moments, police vehicles surrounded the place. The kidnappers tried to run, but they didn't get far. Officers stormed in, freed the girl, and apprehended the men.

And then came the Minister.

Escorted by security, he rushed to his daughter, and after making sure she was safe, he turned toward us. He came forward, surprisingly composed, and thanked us-sincerely.

"If ever you need help, in any way," he said, "please reach out. I owe you both more than you know."

We nodded, offered polite smiles, and slipped away before the media could sniff the story out.

Back at the bike, the sky had deepened into twilight. The day's chaos was finally behind us, but something about it still sat heavily in my chest.

I turned to Aransh as we prepared to leave.

"You were against helping her at first," I said quietly. "But then something changed. You did some mental calculation, and suddenly you were in. What exactly clicked in your head?"

He held his helmet in his hands, looked at it for a second, then said matter-of-factly, "I didn't realise at first that she was the Minister's daughter. Once I did, it seemed... logical."

My eyes narrowed. "So you helped her because of who she was?"

"Yeah," he said, shrugging. "She can help us in the future. Connections like that... they matter."

I stared at him, my heart sinking a little.
"So you only helped her for your own benefit?"

"Not just mine," he corrected. "Yours too. And hers. She's safe now, right?"

I didn't answer immediately. I just kept staring at him. There was no shame on his face. No regret. Just... practicality.

He noticed my silence and met my gaze with a small smirk.

"Are we leaving now?" he asked. "Or are you planning to take a moral test of my soul before you get back on the bike?"

I didn't respond. Not out of anger-more confusion. His reasoning bothered me. Not because he was wrong... but because maybe he wasn't.

Still, I couldn't shake the feeling. But I got on the bike anyway.

∆∆°•°∆∆

After riding in silence for a while longer, he finally broke it. "So... where should we stay tonight?" he asked casually. "Your place or mine?"

I hesitated.

The idea of taking him to my place made something twist uncomfortably in my stomach. That space was mine. Personal. Private.
"Let's just find a beachside hotel," I said quickly, trying to sound light.

He nodded. "Alright."

We rode a bit further until we reached a quiet, elegant resort tucked along the coastline. It had a stunning view of the sea, with tall palm trees lining the pathway and the rhythmic sound of waves brushing against the shore.

After we checked in, I stepped out onto the balcony, letting the ocean breeze brush through my hair. I stood there, gazing at the vast stretch of water-shimmering under the silver moonlight.

"You're a beach person?" he asked from behind me.

I turned slightly and answered without thinking, "No. Mountain person."

He chuckled and walked over beside me.
"You seem like the beach type, though," he said, studying me curiously.

That surprised me.
I looked at him, eyebrows raised. "Really?"

He nodded, eyes still fixed on the sea.

"Favorite color?" he asked next.

"White," I said automatically... and then paused. Was it really my favorite color? Or was it Jayant's?

The thought hit me unexpectedly. Had I been so wrapped in my past that I had borrowed someone else's preferences and made them my own?

"White..." I repeated under my breath,
"You okay?" Aransh asked, noticing the shift in my expression.

"I... I'm not really sure about colors," I admitted softly.

He laughed, not unkindly, and then without turning toward me-still looking at the waves-he said, "I like you, Alisha."

My breath caught.

That felt sudden. Too sudden.
"You... like me? After just one day?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

He turned to me now, his eyes calm and certain.
"It's been a year, Alisha," he said gently. "I've liked you for a year."

I blinked. "What?"

"I first saw you dancing in the rain," he continued, voice dipping into memory. "You were carefree, laughing... full of life. I joined you. We danced. I had a mask on, so you didn't see my face."

Something flickered in my memory, but I stayed silent, listening.

"Then I saw you again in Goa," he said, his voice softening. "You were with your friends, laughing, playing in the waves. That joy... it stayed with me."

I looked at him, stunned. "You... from all this time?"

He nodded. "Soumya told me more about you. She told me your name, even she tell me that you not okay with that video... I was the one who got that viral video of you taken down from social media."

Suddenly it all came rushing back. He was the one I owed so much to. The one I never really thanked-at least not properly.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered. "I didn't realize you were that Aransh."

His expression shifted-just slightly. Disappointment flickered across his face before he masked it again.

"You didn't even remember one name 'Aransh,' you forgot me so easily," he said, the hurt subtle but undeniable.

"Aransh..." I reached for his arm.

But he shook his head gently, forcing a small smile.
"It's okay," he said, though the words felt hollow. "It's fine."

Then, without another glance, he turned and walked back into the room, closing the sliding door behind him.

I followed him inside. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning back against it, his shoulders slouched, eyes lowered-as if he was carrying the weight of words he hadn't yet spoken. Quietly, I sat down in front of him, meeting his eyes.

"I understand you like me," I said softly. "And I know how it feels when you like someone... but they only look at you as just someone else."

My voice cracked slightly, memories rushing in. I wasn't just speaking to him-I was speaking from experience.

He glanced at me, his expression unreadable. "Is there any chance," he asked, "that someday... you might like me back?"

I didn't blink. "I don't know," I replied truthfully.

He let out a slow exhale. "How long will you keep loving someone who doesn't love you back? To move forward, sometimes... we have to leave some people behind. Why can't you do that? Why won't you let someone else walk into your life?"

His words hit me like cold water.

What was he saying?

But he kept speaking. "I know you're in love with someone-someone who doesn't return your feelings. But give me a chance. I'll love you enough to make you forget him."

My breath caught. I stood up suddenly,

instinctively needing to leave. But before I could walk away, he reached for my hand.

"At least answer me," he said, almost pleading. "Don't you want to move on?"

I pulled my hand away. "What are you even talking about? There's nothing like that."

He stood too, facing me. "I know you met me just today... but I've known you for a year."

I could feel the panic rise in my chest. "I think I should go," I muttered and turned toward the door.

The night had stretched into darkness by then. I didn't want to be anywhere near him anymore, so I went to the reception and asked for a separate room. The resort was quiet-far from the city, far from the noise-and I could still feel the heaviness of what had just happened pressing into me.

A couple of times, I heard someone knock on my door. I didn't open it. Because I knew it who's other side of door.

The next morning arrived quietly. I packed up and went to the front desk, asking for a cab. But this place was far from the city, and no service was available.

And then... Aransh appeared again.

"I'll drop you," he said calmly. "Promise-I won't say a single word on the way."

I didn't have any other option, so I nodded and climbed onto his bike. True to his word, he didn't speak. We rode in complete silence for nearly two hours.

By the time we reached the city, the clock had ticked past eight.

I got off the bike and started to unbuckle the helmet strap, but before I could, he stepped closer and gently removed it himself-his fingers brushing against my skin.

He stood close-closer than before. His voice dropped into something softer, deeper.
"If I kiss you right now..." he said, his eyes locked on mine, "would you slap me-or kiss me back?"

His lips inched closer, almost tasting the air between us... until I suddenly stepped back.

"No," I said, firmly. "Stop liking me. There's no chance... not now, not ever. And stop keeping tabs on me. Whatever you've been following-let it go."

I knew I was being harsh, but false hope hurts more in the end. I had no right to let him live in a story I wasn't writing with him.

He didn't flinch. He simply stood there, his voice low and aching.

"We don't choose who we like, Alisha. If I like you, I like you. I wish I could stop too. But I can't. Don't worry, though," he added with a bitter smile, "I won't ever show you my face again."

"Kehte hai na, pyaar krna hamre bas mein nhi hota par usse dur chale jana woh hamare bas me jarur hota hain"

("They say, it is not in our control to love but it is definitely in our control to go away from that person")

And just like that, he was gone.

And I was left with a silence even louder than before.

___________________________________________

One year later in Delhi

"I didn't think you'd come," Rishi said as I walked in.

I smiled, trying to sound casual. "And why would you think that?"

"Because... it's Jayant and Shreya's engagement today," he said gently. "I thought it might be hard for you."

I shook my head with a practiced smile. "It's not like that."

But it was like that.

Yes, today was Jayant's engagement. I was happy... for him. Truly. But I was also dying inside, piece by piece.
Everyone around me was celebrating, drinking, dancing. Laughter floated through the air like confetti. After dating for more than two years, Jayant and Shreya were finally getting engaged. And I... I was standing in the corner, nursing a smile I didn't quite feel.

Jayant found me among the crowd and smiled like nothing had changed. He offered his hand. "Dance with me?"

How could I say no? Even now, my heart couldn't refuse him.

I danced with him. For those few seconds, the world blurred. It felt like the old days-back when things were confusing, but at least he was mine, even if only in my hopes.

Then he placed Shreya's hand into his own, as if symbolically replacing me. I smiled-hollow and dry-and stepped back. I smiled again, that same empty smile, the one Rahim and Rishi both could see through. They placed comforting hands on my shoulders, grounding me in a moment I wanted to escape from.

And then came the ring exchange.

I stood there, clutching a drink in my hand like it was the last thing tethering me to the ground. My heart beat faster as Jayant held Shreya's hand. My fingers tightened unconsciously. Then-crack.

The glass shattered in my hand.

A sharp sting shot through my palm as pieces of glass cut into my skin. Gasps filled the air. Heads turned. Everything froze. And before I could even react, Jayant had rushed off the stage, straight to me.

"Where is your attention?" he scolded softly, kneeling before me. Making me seat on chair. His eyes weren't angry, just deeply concerned.

He took out his handkerchief and wrapped it carefully around my bleeding hand. I pulled away weakly, tears brimming. "Just go back... please," I said, trying to push him away.

He ignored my resistance. "Does it hurt?" he asked, eyes focused on the wound.

I looked down, then whispered, "Yes... but not in my hand."

He paused, almost too still.

"Then where?" he asked, still not meeting my eyes.

I didn't answer. I couldn't.

Then he glanced down and frowned. "You've cut your foot too," he said. "You didn't even notice."

Shreya stood on stage, watching everything unfold. I kept silently urging Jayant to leave, to go back, to not do this in front of everyone-but he didn't move.
Rishi returned with the first-aid box. "Jayant, I'll do it," he offered. But Jayant refused. He tended to my wounds himself, ignoring even Uncle and Aunty when they asked him to return to the ceremony.

Only after my bandages were done did he lift me-literally off the ground, cradling me in his arms. My breath caught in my throat. My heart raced.

Why are you doing this, Jayant?
Why now... when you belong to someone else?

Everyone stared in stunned silence. He carried me across the floor, gently setting me on a chair near the stage.

He cupped my cheek, looked into my eyes with a softness I hadn't seen in months, and said,
"Watch my engagement from here, so I'll keep eye on you from stage, okay?"

But how could I?
How could I watch him become someone else's forever?

I didn't say it aloud. I just swallowed the words, like I had done for so long, and nodded faintly.

He turned away and walked back on stage. picked up the ring, and slid it onto Shreya's finger with the same hands that had just bandaged mine.

And I sat there...
watching,
bleeding,
smiling,
And just like that...
my tears finally fell.
while my soul quietly shattered into dust.

∆∆°•°∆∆

The engagement hall shimmered with golden lights, music still playing, laughter still echoing - but I couldn't feel any of it. I stood alone on the balcony, the air thick with the scent of rain, my eyes tracing the sky like it might offer some escape.

A shooting star streaked across the night canvas.

I made no wish.

Because what I wanted... had already slipped through my fingers.

I didn't hear her footsteps, but I felt Shreya's presence beside me. There was mischief in her voice when she spoke, trying to nudge me back into the world.

"You're not crying, are you?" she teased.

I blinked quickly, brushing away a betraying shimmer in the corner of my eye. I turned toward her, my expression unreadable. No smile. No visible sadness. Just stillness-like calm water hiding the storm beneath.

"Why would I cry?" I said softly, almost too calmly.

She tilted her head, "Why wouldn't you?" Her tone was light, but her eyes searched mine with care. "Everyone knows why you might cry today."

But I wasn't in the mood for teasing. Not tonight. Not anymore.

"Yes... maybe I should cry," I admitted, my voice quiet, distant. "But I don't feel like it."
I looked down at my hands. "I'm not sad... because Jayant is yours now."

I offered her a smile-a small, fragile thing that barely touched my lips and certainly never reached my eyes. There was something broken behind it. Something she noticed instantly.

I reached for her hand. My fingers trembled slightly as they wrapped around hers, hesitant. As if I was trying to gather the courage to say something.
"Take care of him," I whispered. "Take care of Jayant. Keep him happy."

Something in her eyes shifted. Her playful tone dissolved. "Why are you saying this? What do you mean?"

I offered her the smallest smile - "Because he's yours now," I said.

She shook her head slightly, unsettled. "You're making it sound like... you're disappearing."

I looked away, unable to meet her gaze. The truth was too heavy to hold between us.
"I am," I said finally, barely above a whisper. "I'm going away... far from Jayant. For good."

She pulled her hand back instinctively, her eyes wide. "You're lying, right?"

I didn't respond. I didn't need to. My silence was the answer.

"I need to move on," I said, the words catching in my throat. "I have to. For him... for me."

"I have to be," I said. "I have to stop being the person he turns to... or he'll never fully be yours."

"Don't do this," she whispered.

"But Jayant-" she stopped, then said with urgency, "How can you just leave him like that? You think he'll let you go that easily?"

"That's why I'm asking you to take care of him," I said, my voice beginning to shake. "Someone has to."

Her eyes shone with disbelief. "He won't survive it. You think he can live without you?"

"I won't disappear overnight," I said, my voice barely holding itself together. "I'll go slowly... so slow he won't even notice it at first. I'll slowly become... a memory."

And even as I said it, something inside me shattered.

And in that moment, I wanted her to understand-I wasn't talking about just walking away.
I was talking about erasing the bond, piece by piece.
So we wouldn't keep hurting each other by holding on.
So he could be free.
So I could learn how to breathe without him.

"You'll have to stop talking him," she whispered, the realization hitting her. "Stop texting. Stop giving him attention, Stop showing up. kar logi yeh sb"

A single tear finally betrayed me, slipping down my cheek.

She reached out and held my hand again-this time firmly, without judgment, without rivalry.
And in a voice softer than I'd ever heard from her, "I don't like you," she said, honestly. "But for this... for your strength... I respect you."

"For what it's worth," she added, voice trembling, "I'll try to be good friend to him. As good as you were."

she whispered,
"I'm with you."

I broke down in tears, and Shreya gently pulled me into a comforting hug.

In that silent embrace, I felt her warmth... her quiet understanding.
And for the first time that evening, I let myself fall apart in someone's arms.

___________________________________________

Tu chala gaya, kisi aur ka humsafar ban kar,
Tere jane ka gum jajur hua,
Teri yaadon ko seene se nikal kar,
Main bhi chal di tumse dur, apne safar par.
Jane se phle,
Tumhari hasi dekh kr woh mere bandar,
Aasun bhi tham gye mere is dil ke andar.

___________________________________________

🫶🫶

Hello my lovely readers, ❤️
So this is the final part of the past timeline. From the next chapter onward, we'll be stepping into the present timeline. So take a moment to recall where we left off - or you can reread Chapter 6, since the upcoming story will pick up from there.

And I'm sorry it took me so long to cover the backstory. Honestly, I didn't expect it would take so many chapters - even though I wrote it in a fast-paced way, But no worries! From the next chapter, the focus will shift to Alisha and Jayant's life.

By the way, I skipped one event from their college life which I will include in a later chapter to keep some suspense. Let me know in the comments where you think I skipped that event - in which chapter you feel it's missing.

Love you all,
Nima 💛