Jayant

The man who had dared to hurt Alisha was sitting right in front of me, and yet... my fists were empty. I hadn't struck him, not once. The ache of that restraint burned more than any wound ever could.

Before they led me inside the interrogation room, Inspector Nikhil had placed a firm hand on my shoulder.

"What is it you really want to ask him? The facts are clear, Jayant. He kidnapped your friend-because she's Aransh Khanna's girlfriend. It was about money, nothing more."

"I know," I answered, my voice colder than I intended.

"Then what is it you expect from him?" he pressed, but I didn't give him the satisfaction of a reply. Words would only waste the storm rising inside me.

I pushed the door open and stepped in. Ranjan sat slouched on the chair opposite me, his hands cuffed, his eyes darting everywhere but mine. I dragged the chair across the floor and sat directly in front of him. For a long moment, I didn't speak. I just stared.

This was the man who had raised his hand against Alisha, who had left a mark on her skin and a deeper one on her heart. My palms itched with the urge to strike him, to return every bruise, every ounce of terror he had inflicted. But I swallowed it down. I didn't want his blood. I wanted truth.

And so I sat there, the silence heavy between us, the sound of the ticking clock slicing the air. My eyes locked on his face, unblinking, unrelenting. He shifted in his seat, nervous, but I didn't move.

I needed answers. Only answers.

I leaned forward, my hands pressed flat against the table between us.
"Tell me," I said, my voice low, measured, but trembling with the storm inside me. "What did you do to her?"

"When I pulled Alisha into my arms... she looked at me-" My throat tightened. I forced the words out anyway. "She looked at me as if I was a stranger. She didn't even know me. Do you understand what that means? Do you know what it did to me when she said-" I broke off, my chest heaving, the memory slicing through me like glass.

"'Who are.. you?'"

The three words echoed in my skull.

My fists clenched on the table. I didn't care about his schemes, about the ransom, about his rotten motives. None of it mattered. Only this one truth mattered.

I leaned closer, my voice cracking under the weight of desperation.
"What the hell did you do to her that she couldn't recognize me? That she looked at me... like I was stranger?!"

Ranjan leaned back in his chair, his voice casual, almost mocking.
"Mujhe kaise pta hoga usme aapko kyu nhi pehchana"

("How should I know why she didn't recognize you?")

My jaw tightened. "Because you did something. You must have. The whole damn world could forget me, but Alisha? Never."

He chuckled, careless, infuriating. "Brother... you think too highly of yourself. People forget. Simple as that. I don't even remember my school girlfriend's face. If she shows up today, I'll ask her the same-'Who are you?'"

"Not funny," he said with a shrug, lips twitching into a smirk.
"Aap jyda soch rhe ho ji, kya hi bola usne 'koun ho tum' , ladkiya bhool jati hai, ex lovers se picha chhudane ke liye aisa natak krti hai."

("You're just overthinking. What she said 'who are you' , Girls easily forget, they act like this to get rid of their ex-lovers")

That was it. The last thread of control inside me snapped. I shot up, grabbed his collar, and pulled him across the table. His smug face was just inches from mine when he shouted for the inspector.

The door slammed open. Inspector Nikhil stormed in, his voice sharp. "Jayant! Let him go. Your obsession with grabbing collars will get you in trouble. Drop it."

For a long, furious second, I didn't move. Then, reluctantly, I released him, my hand falling back to my side. The anger still clawed at me, but I forced my voice steady.

I sat again, Nikhil between us, and asked, "Did you torture Alisha? Did you mess with her mind? Something that could've... broken her memory?"

Ranjan shook his head quickly, too quickly. "No, no. We don't torture. We don't even raise a hand."

"Don't lie to me!" I snapped, my voice echoing off the walls. "I saw you. You hit her."

He shifted uncomfortably. "That- that was only because she refused to recognize Aransh. We showed her his photo. She said she didn't know him. We thought she was acting smart, so yes... we lost our temper."

For a second, my rage faltered. A strange, fragile relief flickered inside me. She hadn't recognized Aransh either.

"You mean... she didn't recognize him?" I asked, stunned.

Ranjan nodded. "Yes. We even shoved his photo in front of her. Still nothing. We thought she was pretending."

My mind reeled. The image of the CCTV footage returned-Alisha walking with them, calm, even willing, as though no force was involved.

I leaned forward, my voice tight. "Then tell me-how did you even take her? How did you convince her to go with you?"

Ranjan raised a brow. "Yeh kaise bata sakta hu"
("how can I say this?")

"Details," Nikhil barked, his tone sharp. "Every detail. Now."

The swagger faded from Ranjan's eyes. He swallowed and began.

"She was on her phone, walking near the roadside. We'd just read some gossip about her affairs with Aransh Khanna in the news. So Deepak and I approached, asked for an autograph. She looked... lost. A little distant. We praised her book, lied a little here and there, and she barely reacted. She seemed... confused. And then... she said something strange."

My breath caught.
"What did she say?"

"She looked right at us and asked, 'Who am I?'"

For a second, the air left my lungs.

"We thought she was joking, so we ignored it.

My heart thudded painfully.

"Then," he continued, "out of nowhere, she asked us to drop her at a Shiv temple. There wasn't any temple nearby, but we played along. That was our chance. We didn't need to force her-she came willingly. But when she suddenly glanced at her phone, she said she was Alisha Parmar, repeating it as if reminding herself. We panicked, thinking she might call someone, so we snatched the phone and tossed it aside. After that, she stayed quiet. Completely quiet. The entire time."

Silence swallowed the room.

Her voice echoed in my head-Who am I? A single phrase that shattered every explanation I thought I had.

What was happening to her? Why had she suddenly wanted a temple? Why couldn't she recognize even Aransh-or me or worst herself?

I pressed a hand against my forehead, confusion pressing down on me like an unbearable weight. None of this made sense. None of it.

Just as Ranjan's last words still rang in my ears, my phone buzzed.
Alisha.

I snatched it up instantly, my pulse quickening. "Alisha-"

Her voice came sharp, hurried. "I'm going back to Delhi."

Before I could ask more, she cut me off.

"You will have to do it," she pressed, her words like knives. "If you come back to Delhi without Shreya, then don't expect me to ever talk to you again."

And with that, the line went dead.

I stood frozen, staring at the blank screen. Her voice still echoed in my ears, but it didn't sound like my Alisha. It was harsh, foreign, as though she were deliberately building walls between us. Pushing me toward someone else.

For a long moment, I couldn't breathe. Why, Alisha? Why are you doing this to me?

Slowly, I slid the phone back into my pocket, forcing my trembling hands to steady. Then I turned to Nikhil, my jaw set.
"Give him the harshest punishment possible," I said flatly, my voice stripped of warmth.

Ranjan smirked, Without thinking, I slammed my fist into his face. His head snapped back, and for the first time, the smirk vanished.

I straightened my shirt calmly, not sparing him another glance, and walked out. Nikhil didn't stop me; he only watched in silence, as though weighing the storm inside me.

Outside the police station, I stood under the open sky, breathing hard. Thoughts crashed against each other like violent waves. Alisha's forgotten face. Her words over the phone. Ranjan's smirks. The Shiv temple. Shreya. None of it made sense, and the more I tried to piece it together, the deeper I sank into confusion.

After what felt like hours, I found my feet carrying me back to the hospital. I needed answers, even if they tore me apart.

The doctor looked up as I entered. "You again?"

"I need to know," I said hoarsely, "Alisha's reports. Where?"

He adjusted his glasses, shaking his head.
"They're not ready yet. By evening, we'll have them."

Evening. The word felt like a lifetime away.

I sat in the cold hospital corridor, my fists clenched, my chest heavy. Each tick of the clock dragged me deeper into the unknown.

And all I could do was wait-wait for the truth about the only woman I could never let go.

<•∆∆∆∆∆•>

After what felt like an eternity of waiting, the doctor finally walked toward me, holding a file. My heart lurched into my throat as he said calmly, "Everything is good. She's absolutely fine."

For a second, the world stopped. Relief washed through me so strongly that my knees nearly gave way. Fine. She was fine. The one word I had been dying to hear. A smile almost broke across my face-but it didn't last.

I snatched the file from his hand and flipped through the pages. Over and over, I scanned the same lines, my eyes racing through every medical term I barely understood. Even the MRI report was clean. Still, the doubt gnawed at me.

"Doctor..." I asked slowly, my voice sharp with unease, "you checked everything thoroughly, right?"

He gave me a patient smile. "Yes. We went through all the parameters. Nothing is wrong."

But my chest still felt heavy. I wasn't convinced. "You don't understand," I pressed, my words tumbling out. "Alisha... she forgot everything for a while. Not just small details-everything. It was like... like dementia. As if her mind just shut me out."

The doctor paused, thoughtful now. His brows furrowed as he considered my words. Finally, he nodded. "Alright. Bring her again. We'll run a complete diagnosis this time. Just to be sure." Then, as if it were casual, he added, "Besides, she lives nearby. It won't be a problem."

My head snapped up.
"She lives nearby?" I repeated, frowning.

"Yes," he said, almost puzzled by my reaction. "She told me that herself."

The words struck me like a lightning bolt. Alisha had lied. She had told the doctor she lived here. Why?

I forced a polite smile and murmured, "Thank you, Doctor." But inside, my thoughts were spiraling. Why would she hide the truth? Why pretend?

Stepping out of the hospital, the evening sky had already deepened into shades of crimson and grey. How was I supposed to convince her to come for diagnosis when she wouldn't even let me know.

I stood there for a long time, lost between suspicion and helplessness, before finally making my choice. With the night stretching over me like a shadow, I boarded my flight back to Delhi.

But the truth gnawed at me with every mile.
Alisha wasn't telling me everything.
And that scared me more than any report ever could.

While waiting for my flight at the airport, my thoughts kept drifting. Everywhere I looked, I could only see my mistakes staring back at me. I had wronged Shreya. I had wronged Alisha. And as the hours stretched on toward my late-night departure, the weight of it all pressed heavier on me.

<•∆∆∆∆∆•>

By the time I reached Delhi, it was already morning. Instead of going to the place I once shared with Shreya, my feet carried me straight to my parents' home.

When I stepped inside, neither of them said a word. They simply looked at me with quiet eyes, as if they had learned long ago that some battles their son had to fight alone. Without explanation, I went directly to my old room-the room I had abandoned two years ago. Since then, I had returned only for a night or two at rare intervals, and yet... everything was exactly as I had left it.

Mother had preserved it with a kind of sacred devotion. Every book, every photograph, every object in its place, untouched by time, as if waiting for me to come back.

I pulled open the cupboard, searching for fresh clothes, when my gaze drifted upward. A box sat on the top shelf, faintly dusted, but carefully placed. I reached for it, my hands hesitant, my chest tightening with an old memory I had almost forgot.

Inside lay a sandalwood garland-the same one I had brought back from Alisha's house. Her mother's photo frame garland. I had meant to throw it away once, But I never could. And now, holding it in my hands, the weight of it was unbearable.

In that instant, I heard the echo of my own voice from the past-my promise, spoken not only to her father but to myself:

"Uncle, I promise you... nothing like yesterday will happen again. I'll take care of her. I'll treat her like a princess-the way mother would treat their own daughter."

"I'll protect her like a princess. Her past will never touch her again."

"I promise you, i promise to myself."

The words burned in my ears. Because the truth was cruel. Every memory of Alisha that rushed back to me was tainted with the moments I had failed her. Every time she had suffered, every tear that had fallen from her eyes, I had been at the center of it. I was supposed to shield her from pain-yet I had become the very reason for it.

I pressed the garland to my face, the scent of sandalwood sharp and unforgiving. My vision blurred as the truth tore through me:

I was no savior.
I was no protector.
I was the storm that destroyed the very princess I had vowed to protect.

What have I become?

The boy who had once sworn to treat her like a princess had turned into the man who gave her more sorrow than anyone else in the world.

The door creaked open. I didn't need to turn; I could feel my mother's presence even in silence.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly.

I quickly wiped at my eyes, forcing steadiness into my voice. "Yes, I'm fine."

She walked in, her footsteps slow, deliberate, until she sit right before me. Without another word, she pulled me into her arms. Her embrace was warm.

"Mera beta, jhuth vahi bolna chahiye jaha tumhe pta ho samne wala pakad nhi payega, mere samne bol ke fayda nhi"

("My son... You should only lie when you know that the other person will not be able to catch it, there is no use in lying to me.")

Something in me loosened, the grip on my tears breaking. She gently brushed them from my cheeks, her eyes searching mine with that endless patience only mothers carry.

"Kya chal raha hai andar"

"What's happening inside you?" she asked. "Tell me. Maybe I can help."

I hesitated, then leaned closer, lowering my voice with a faint, wry smile.
"papa ko bolo , woh chhupe bhi aisi jagah jaha se pakde na jay, unki shadow dikh rhi hai, door ke pas chhip ke sun rhe hai"

("Tell papa that he should hide in a place where he would not be caught. His shadow is visible. He's standing behind the door, listening.")

Mother's lips curved into a quiet laugh, and sure enough, my father stepped in, pretending to walk casually as though caught in mischief. Slowly, he came to sit beside me. One parent on either side-I was cornered not by force, but by love.

Father cleared his throat. "So... you haven't tried my old trick yet, have you? Close your eyes. Focus on just one face. The answer comes."

"Papa, please," I snapped, shaking my head.

They both waited. And finally, the truth slipped out of me, heavier than I thought it would sound.

"I broke up with Shreya."

The silence that followed felt like an explosion. My father's face hardened in disbelief. "What did you just said?" His voice rose, sharp with disappointment. "what you did? She was good for you."

Papa always like her from the beginning.
But my mother's tone was gentler. "Why, Jayant? What happened?"

For a moment, I couldn't speak. I stared at the floor, my chest rising and falling too quickly. Then, slowly, the words came.

"Yeh tin saal uske sath bahut khubsurat the, but pta nhi, yeh kuch dino me bahut kuch badal gya hai, main vaisa same feel nhi kar pa rha hu"

("These three years were very beautiful with her, but I don't know, a lot has changed in these few days, I am not able to feel the same way anymore")

My father muttered under his breath, "Because your mind is clouded with Alisha's name."

"Papa," I snapped again, the warning sharp in my tone.

Mother looked between us, her brows knitting. "So... you love Alisha?"

"Mom, please, not again" I whispered harshly, shaking my head. "Not now. I don't know. I truly don't know."

She sighed, but there was no judgment in her eyes, only quiet certainty. "Then that is the problem."

"She feels different now-almost unrecognizable. This isn't the Alisha I knew, it's as if she's become someone else entirely. Every word, every silence, carries a distance I can't seem to cross. And it hurts... because I can't tell if she's the one pushing me away, or if it's just my mind weaving fears of losing."

"Talk to her, talking solves every problem, Both here-" she tapped her finger lightly against my temple, "-and here." Her hand settled over my heart.

I nodded faintly, unable to argue.

"Good," she said, her voice firm now, almost commanding. "Then get ready. Today is Dip and Bhumika's engagement. You'll be there. And so will Alisha."

I blinked, stunned. I had almost forgotten. My stomach tightened at the thought, nerves tangling into my breath. Quickly, I rose, set the box with the garland back inside the cupboard, and grabbed clothes to escape into the bathroom.

Just as I closed the door, their voices drifted in.

"What do you think?" my father asked. "Shreya or Alisha? Who will he choose?"

My mother didn't hesitate. "Alisha, of course. Seventeen years of connection isn't just friendship. If that were all it was, they would have drifted apart long ago. But something keeps drawing them back-something far stronger, far deeper."

My father stayed quiet, only nodding, and then their footsteps retreated down the hall.

I stood before the mirror, staring at the man staring back. My reflection carried too many questions, none with answers.

The whole world seemed so certain-that I would always choose Alisha. But why?

If it wasn't love, then what was it?
And if it was love... why did it feel like I had no name for it?

<•∆∆∆∆∆•>

The moment I entered the venue, my eyes betrayed me-they weren't searching for Dip, for Bhumika, or for anyone else. They were searching only for her.
For Alisha.

She had told me, almost like a warning, "If you come back to Delhi without Shreya, then don't expect me to ever talk to you again."
And yet here I was, unable to keep myself away from her. Because hiding from her was harder than hiding from myself.

I spotted her across the hall, laughing softly while talking to Bhumika. Even from that distance, I could feel her presence tugging at me. She looked radiant, the kind of radiant that didn't belong to this noisy crowd, but to some quiet, timeless place. Our eyes met for the briefest moment, and I could swear-she noticed me too. Her lips curved into a faint smile, as if acknowledging the unspoken string that still bound us.

But before I could take a step toward her, the music shifted. The lights dimmed. A single spotlight hit the stage.

And then-he walked in.
The music swelled.
🎶 "Aisi kya chali hawa, ki le gayi..."
Meri saanson ko mujhse door, Tere paas.
Aur mujhe huaa ehsaas.🎶

Aransh. His face came into light.

The room erupted into cheers. Girls screamed his name, phones flew up in the air. My chest tightened the second I saw his face under that blinding light.
Who the hell invited him here? I muttered under my breath.

As if the night wasn't cruel enough, Alisha stepped onto the stage with him.

🎶Tu Tu Tu, Tu Meri ri ri
Main tera ra, hone laga
Main main main, main tera ra ra
Tu Meri ri, hone lagi..🎶

Their bodies moved together as though they had rehearsed for this exact moment. Step by step, turn by turn, they fit like a picture-perfect pair. She spun gracefully, her hair brushing his shoulder, her laughter hidden in the rhythm.

And yet-through the crowd, through the song, through every perfect twirl-her eyes kept darting back at me.
As if she wanted me to watch.
As if every move of hers was a test.

I clenched my fists. My jaw tightened. My heart refused to beat in time with the music.

When the song finally ended, the hall thundered with applause. The pair descended the stage, and Alisha, glowing and breathless, introduced Aransh like he was some prized jewel. The girls around me practically melted, trying to edge closer to him, their phones flashing with selfies.

A hand landed on my shoulder. I turned to see Rashi and Rahim.
"Didn't expect you to show up," Rahim said, smiling.
"I didn't come here for Dip," I replied coldly. "I came here for Alisha."

Rashi chuckled. "That's not new."

Before I could answer, Rahim nudged me. "Come on, let's meet Aransh. Tonight he's the VVIP."

"I've already met him," I muttered.

They exchanged confused looks. "When?" Rahim asked.
"Doesn't matter," I snapped. "Just leave it."

The crowd around Aransh thickened. Everyone wanted a piece of him. In the chaos, Alisha was shoved. She stumbled forward, about to fall-

But my hands were faster.
I caught her. Held her.
And for a fleeting moment, the world disappeared.

Her eyes locked on mine, full of something raw, something she couldn't disguise even if she wanted to.

Then, her voice broke the silence.
"Shreya... has came back to Delhi?"

I didn't hesitate. "No."

Her face hardened instantly. She pushed me away with a force that stung more than any slap. Without another word, she turned her back on me and walked away, leaving me stranded in a storm only she knew how to create.
___________________________________________

Alisha

What does he think of himself? I fumed silently, my nails digging into my palm as I watched Jayant standing there. As if my words mean nothing. As if I don't matter at all. I told him to go back to Shreya. I told him for his own good. But no-he had to come back, show his face, and stand here like this.

I was still cursing him in my head when I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder. Aransh. His easy smirk in place, his voice dipped low, teasing.
"Why don't you go and tell him all this directly? What's the use of mumbling to yourself?"

"Stay away from me right now," I snapped, my irritation spilling over.

But before I could step aside, he caught my wrist, pulled me closer, and wrapped his arm around my waist with an effortless claim. His breath brushed against my ear as he whispered, "How can I stay away, jaan?"

That word-jaan-slipped past his lips like honey and poison together. My eyes widened. "Jaan?" I whispered in disbelief.

He smirked and leaned closer. "Everyone's watching... even your Jayant."

My heart stumbled in my chest. At once, without thinking, I wrapped my arms around his neck-an act of defiance, a shield, a dagger aimed at the man who had shattered me the most. If Jayant was watching, let him watch. Let him see me smile.

Moments later, the host announced a couple's game. Aransh and I joined, our bodies becoming unwilling partners in this twisted performance.

The first task was harmless enough-carrying balloons using only our chests. His body pressed against mine, his warmth far too close. I laughed, too loudly, too brightly, hoping Jayant was watching, hoping he would believe I was happy.

Then came apples and lemons balanced between our mouths, and later grapes held between lips so close our breaths tangled. Each round dragged me deeper into a strange mix of discomfort and rebellion. My heart wanted to run, yet my pride forced me to stay.

Soon it was just us and Dip with Bhumika in the final round. One last challenge. A single pomegranate seed placed on the table. The rule: carry it without using hands-mouth to mouth. Which meant a kiss.

The crowd roared in excitement, chanting our names. My palms turned cold. My lips trembled. Fake. This was fake. My entire relationship with Aransh was a façade, and kissing him... kissing him in front of Jayant...

I froze.

Aransh's eyes locked with mine. Something unreadable flickered there before he pulled me close, his grip strong, almost possessive. He leaned in, our lips a breath apart. My fists curled tight, nails stabbing into my own palm as I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable.

And then-something small hit my cheek. Startled, I opened my eyes. The pomegranate seed had fallen, rolling on the ground between us. Gasps and laughter echoed through the crowd.

Aransh straightened, his voice quiet, for me alone. "It's obvious. You don't want to kiss me. And I'm not the kind of man who'll take advantage of that."

Relief washed over me like rain on parched earth. The host declared Dip and Bhumika the winners. Applause thundered around us. But before I could process it, Jayant's hand closed around mine.

Without a word, he pulled me away from the crowd. I stumbled behind him, calling his name, but he didn't stop until we were far from the noise, in the silence of a dim corridor.

He turned, eyes blazing with a fire I'd never seen before.
"What's wrong with you, Alisha? What are you doing? This whole thing-it's an act, isn't it? A performance?"

"An act?" I echoed, my voice sharp, brittle. "What act?"

"This! Whatever you're doing with him. You were uncomfortable, I could see it. Don't lie. Don't pretend."

"Enough, Jayant!" My voice cracked like thunder. "You don't know me. You don't get to decide what's fake in my life. Yes-I was uncomfortable. Because I don't love him. Because there is no such bond between us yet. But I like him. Do you hear me? I like him. So don't call this an act."

He froze, staring at me as if I'd just driven a knife through his chest.

I inhaled sharply, my eyes burning. "Tum khud ko kya samjhte ho? Mujhe meri zindagi jine do, mere tarike se, please"

("Who do you think you are, Jayant? Let me live my life the way I choose. Please.")

The silence that followed was unbearable. He just stood there, his gaze locked on me, wordless, motionless-while everything inside me threatened to collapse.

Jayant lowered his gaze, his voice barely above a whisper. "Mujhe tumse baat karni hai."
("I need to talk to you.")

I clenched my fists, anger tightening in my chest. "Ab kis baare mein baat karni hai, Jayant?" My tone was sharp, almost cutting.

("What do we want to talk about now, Jayant?")

He looked up, his eyes carrying a weight that unsettled me. "Tumhare seventeen years ke pyaar ke baare mein... jo tum mujhe karti ho."

("About your 17 years of love, for me.")

The air caught in my throat. My breath froze, my heart pounding so loud it echoed in my ears. Did he just say that? Did he finally say it? But why now?

"I can't forgive myself," he continued, his voice cracking. "Ki main itne saalon tak tumhare pyaar ko dekh hi nahi paya."

Stop, Jayant... bas karo... I screamed silently inside, But he didn't stop.

"Alisha," he said, his tone breaking, "main tumhe anjane mein itna hurt karta raha... aur tum chup-chaap sehati rahi."

("I kept hurting you unknowingly... and you kept suffering it silently.")

"Jayant!" I shouted, the word bursting out of me like fire, but my voice trembled more than it roared.

He still went on, as though his confession was no longer in his control. "Jabse mujhe yeh baat samajh aayi hai... meri zindagi jaise ruk si gayi hai."

And then... he cupped my face with both hands, his palms trembling against my skin. His eyes-full of tears, full of guilt.
"Aalu... main tumse bahut pyaar karta hoon. Bahut. Bas... woh wala ishq nahi hai."

("Ever since I realized this... it feels like my life has come to a standstill. Aalu... I love you deeply. I really do. But... it's just not that kind of love.")

My heart... oh God, my heart... it splintered into a thousand sharp pieces right there. Every shard cut deeper with his words. I wanted to scream, to break, to collapse. But this wasn't the moment to shatter.

I slapped his hands away from my face. "Jayant, aisa nahi hai jaise tum soch rahe ho," I said, my voice shaking, but each word heavy as lead. "Hamare beech pyaar hai-lekin woh sirf dosti ka hai. Tum karte ho, main karti hoon. Aur main bewakoof thi jo maine iss rishtay ko mohabbat Ishq ka naam de diya hai.. tha."

(It's not how you think, Jayant. Yes, we share love, but only the kind of love that comes from friendship. I love you just as much as you love me. However, I was stupid enough to think this connection was something more and to call it love when it wasn't.)

His eyes widened, pain flashing in them. My own words stabbed me, but I forced them out, gasping for breath.

"You don't need to feel guilty for this, Jayant. This is my feeling. Mera ishq. It's not your responsibility." My chest heaved, tears burning my eyes. "Mujhe khush rakhna tumhari zimmedaari kabhi nahi hai."

("It's never your responsibility to keep me happy.")

I paused, my voice breaking into shards. "Dost sirf hanse, khele ke liye hote hain... aur tum bhi waise hi raho."

("Friends are there only for laughter and games... and you should remain the same.")

Something shifted in his eyes. Pain. Frustration. He whispered hoarsely, "Tum meri Aalu nhi ho... kaun ho tum?"

My lungs felt like they'd collapse. "Kyahh,"
"Batao... kaun ho tum?" he asked again, more desperate this time.

"Haan main tumhari Aalu nhi hu, tumhari aalu hona ek kaid hai." I straightened, fire in my voice though my heart bled inside. "Main Alisha Parmar hoon. Alokh Parmar ki beti. Meri identity mere papa se hai. Tumhare diye huye ek name se mera wajood decide nahi hoga."

("You aren't my aalu, Who are you?"

"What"

"Tell me, who are you"

"Yes, I am not your Aalu, being your Aalu is a prison.
I am Alisha Parmar, daughter of Alokh Parmar. My identity comes from my father. My existence will never be defined by a name you once gave me.")

His voice turned harsh, almost angry. "Haan, tum Alisha Parmar hi ho. Ek ladki jo apne ird-gird ek diwar khadi karti hai. Tum meri Aalu nahi ho. Nahi ho meri Aalu."

Tears stung my eyes. "Haan. Main tumhari Aalu nahi hoon. Aur Naah hi main ab Bane rahna chahti hu."

He flinched. His voice cracked again. "Tum Alisha isliye bani kyunki main Aalu ke emotions samajh nahi paaya. Uske feelings ko nhi jaan paya."

I shook my head, my voice breaking but fierce. "Nahi, Jayant. Main Alisha bani hoon. Isliye kyuki Aalu... mujhe tumne banaya tha, mere sabse kamzor pal mein. Tumne mujhe woh naam diya tha. Lekin Alisha... Alisha main khud hoon. Aur ab mujhe tumhare diye hue us 'Aalu' naam se nafrat hone lagi hai. Kyuki ab main kamjor nhi hu."

("Hmm, you are Alisha Parmar. A girl who builds a wall around herself. You are not my Aalu."

"Hmm. I am not your Aalu. And I don't want to be either anymore."

"You became Alisha only because I failed to understand Aalu's emotions... because I never truly recognized her feelings."

"No, Jayant. I became Alisha... because Aalu was someone you created in me-during my most vulnerable moment. You were the one who gave me that name. But Alisha... Alisha is who I truly am. And now, I've starting to hate that name 'Aalu' you gave me, because I am no longer vulnerable.")

The lie seared my tongue as it left my lips. My heart screamed otherwise. Because the truth? That word, Aalu-from his mouth-it was the most beautiful word in the world. Every time he said it, my entire being lit up. The happiness I never found as Alisha Parmar, I found it only in being his Aalu. Only his.

But I buried it. I buried it all, watching him look at me with wounded eyes. And in that moment, I didn't know whether I had destroyed him... or myself.

"You hate it?" Jayant's voice was almost a whisper, yet it sliced through the silence between us. "The name I gave you... Aalu. Why? Have I really become that unworthy in your eyes?"

I couldn't hold his gaze. My chest was heavy, my breath trembling. I turned away, forcing my feet to move, but then his voice pulled me back again, steadier this time, painfully certain.

"Mujhe Yakin nhi hai tumhare baaton me, jhuth bolna jo Sikh liya hai tumne, woh bhi kafi achhe se."

("I don't believe you, Alisha. Not a word of what you said. You've learned to lie... so perfectly.")

I froze. My heart stuttered. Slowly, I turned, my voice shaking with anger and hurt. "You're calling me a liar?"

"Yes," he said simply, his eyes never leaving mine. "In these five years... you've mastered it. The lie is like second nature to you."

His calmness burned me more than any scream ever could. Rage flared in me, hot and sharp, and before I knew it, words spilled out like fire. "Tum yakin karna nhi chahte ho isliye mujhe jhutha bol rahe ho. Jo khud ek jhuth ke bubble me rahta hai, tumhe lagta hai hamre bich koi special bond hai, nhi hai, jo bhi bond hai yeh na, Yeh. Usse tumne create Kiya hai, Mujhse dosti karna ek challenge tha na, Hamri dosti ek plan tha jo tumne Kiya tha, bhagwan ne nhi. So please."

("You don't want to believe it, that's why you're calling me a liar. You calling me seriously, the one who live in a bubble of lies, thinking there's some special bond between us-but there isn't. Whatever bond exists, it's the one you created. Being friends with me was a challenge for you, wasn't it? Our friendship was a plan you made, not something destined by God. So please... stop.")

My voice cracked, but I didn't stop. "You made a promise, remember? You were fourteen. Just a boy. You shackled yourself to a vow back then, and now you're still suffocating under it, clinging to it like it defines you. But Jayant-" my throat tightened as tears blurred my vision, "-we are not children anymore. That promise, those memories... they've turned my life into a cage, into a hell I can't escape from."

I took a step closer, my voice breaking into pieces. "So forget it. Forget the promise you made to my father, forget the weight you tied around my life. Just... leave me. Please. Please."

Each word was tearing me apart from inside. My heart screamed at me, begging me to take it all back, but my lips betrayed it. Because in that moment, I wasn't just asking Jayant to leave-
I was shattering the only safe place I had ever known.

And still, I said it. I had to.

Before he could see the ruins of my strength, I ripped my hand free from his, turned, and ran. My legs carried me away from him, from the only man who had ever been my Bhalu, my Jayant. My heart cracked with every step, because I knew-

I wasn't just running away from him.
I was running away from the very pieces of myself that only he had ever held.

<•∆∆∆∆∆•>

I stumbled into a dark, lonely corner of the garden, my knees giving way beneath me. The weight of everything crashed down, and before I knew it, I was sobbing-loud, broken sobs that I couldn't hold back anymore. Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably, my chest heaving as if I was being torn apart from the inside.

Through the blur of my tears, I suddenly felt a shadow fall over me. When I lifted my head, Aransh was there. He dropped down to his knees, right in front of me, his eyes burning with worry. His hands gently cupped my face, wiping at my tears with a trembling tenderness.

"Alisha..." his voice was raw, urgent, almost breaking. "What happened? Tell me. Did someone say something to you? Who hurt you, huh?"

His concern shattered what little strength I had left. My lips trembled as I tried to speak, and then the truth came pouring out between my sobs.

"I hurt him, Aransh..." I choked, my words barely coherent. "I hurt Jayant so badly. I never wanted to... I never meant to... God, I didn't want this." My voice cracked, and I clutched at Aransh's shirt as if he were the only thing keeping me from drowning.

"I wanted to leave... without telling him. I wanted to go away without breaking him, without making him bleed like this. But I failed, Aransh. I failed him. I failed myself." My cries grew heavier, every confession tearing me open.

Aransh pulled me closer, whispering between my broken words, his voice low and steady, trying to stitch me back together. "It's okay... it's okay, Alisha. Nothing happened. Everything will be okay... shh... everything is fine."

His arms wrapped tightly around me, anchoring me while I fell apart. I pressed my face into his chest, whispering nonsense through my sobs, words spilling out like a fevered prayer.

And then, in that suffocating whirlpool of grief and exhaustion, my body gave up. My tears soaked his shirt, my voice faltered into silence, and everything went black.

I fainted in his arms-broken, drained, and undone.

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