Alisha

By evening, my body was aching from the endless rounds of dance practice with Aransh. Step after step, spin after spin-my feet begged for rest, yet I kept moving. Strangely, even though there was nothing real between us, the closeness of practicing as a couple left a heaviness in my chest I couldn't quite name. Perhaps it was just the act.

As the sun dipped lower, a sudden realization struck me like a wave. Oh no... I forgot to brought the outfit for Sangeet's ceremony. My heart sank at the thought.

Without wasting another second, I turned to Aransh. He immediately noticed the shift in my face, raising an eyebrow, almost amused. "Forgot something?" he asked.

I gave a sheepish nod. "We have to go to my house. I left the outfit there."

Minutes later, his car stopped outside, just before stepping out, I told him, "Give me two minutes, I'll just grab my outfit and come back."

Climbing the stairs to my home, I noticed the main door was ajar. My footsteps froze when I saw Papa inside, seated across from a man. They were talking in low voices, but I caught enough to feel my heart clench-Papa was finalizing a deal... to sell our flat. Our home.

My body moved before my mind could catch up. I pushed the door wide open and stormed in. "This house is not for sale!" I shouted, my voice trembling yet firm.

Papa looked at me in shock, almost guilty. "Alisha... you weren't supposed to come today."

I glared at him, my eyes stinging with tears. "If I hadn't come, you would have already sold the only place that still feels like ours."

Papa quickly turned to the man. "Mr. Qureshi, please... let's talk later." The man nodded awkwardly and left.

The silence that followed felt heavier than any words. Papa finally asked, tiredness weighing in his voice, "What do you want, Alisha?"

I couldn't stop myself. "What are you doing, Papa? Do you even realize what you were about to give away? The only reason I found out was because I forgot to take my dress this morning. Otherwise-" My words broke as the thought choked me.

"Stay out of this, Alisha," he interrupted. "Mujhe karne do, jo ek pitah ko karna chahiye abhi" he added softly.

But I shook my head fiercely. "No. I know. But Don't. Please don't."

His eyes filled with tears, his voice cracking, "Let me do this. Let me try. Just once, Let me do this. For you."

"Papa" I said.

"let me gather enough money... for your surgery. For you. For us. For our family."

My chest tightened. His pain was heavier than any burden I'd ever carried. I rushed to him, throwing my arms around his frail body. "I'm fine, Papa. Please, don't say that. Don't hurt yourself like this. I am fine..All fine."

"You are not..Your symptoms getting worst. Bhool gayi Dr. Dutta ne kya kaha tha tumhari condition kharab ho rhi hai"

"Woh bas badha Chadha ke Bol rhe the, main bilkul thik hu, apake samne hu, Bilkul thik."

But he held me tighter, whispering brokenly, "surgery Kara lo alisha, please apne budhe pitah pe taras khao"

("Have the surgery, Alisha. Please. Take pity on your old father.")

Tears streamed down my face as I cut him off, "No, Papa. Don't ever say that again. You're all I have. Surgery won't change anything"

Just then, a familiar voice came from the doorway. "Those two minutes are long gone."

It was Aransh. He stood there quietly, his eyes taking in our tear-streaked faces. I wiped Papa's tears with shaking hands, then my own, forcing a small smile.

Papa gave me a weary nod and whispered, "We'll talk again... after Dip's wedding. In peace."

I nodded, hugged him once more, and hurried to my room to grab my dress. Before leaving, I embraced Papa again,
"I'm fine" holding on for a moment longer than usual, as if to tell him silently-I'm here, and I won't let you carry this weight alone.

<•∆∆∆∆∆•>

I was on the passenger seat while Aransh driving back to dip's place. My thoughts were a tangle I could not sort: 'kyu humara dard sirf humara nhi hota, Kyu Mere dard me hone se, mere apno ko bhi dard ho raha hai. Kyu.'

('Why isn't our pain just ours? Why does my suffering also hurt the ones I love? Why?')

Aransh pulled the car to a smooth stop and, without a word, opened the door. "Get out," he said gently. "You need some fresh air."

I hesitated, then smiled the way someone smiles when they've decided to let the world in for a while. We walked into a small park; twilight had begun to soften the edges of the day. He ran off and returned with two ice creams, handing one to me like a child offering peace.

"Here. Eat. Why are you staring at me like that?" he teased, a laugh tucked inside his words.

"Nothing," I whispered. But the weight in my chest was growing heavier, and must be he noticed.

After few steps while walking he asked. "Tum Jayant se dur kyu bhag rahi ho?"

("Why are you running away from jayant?")

The question froze me mid-step. My throat tightened, my heart stumbling against my ribs.

He continued, softer now, "Main janta hu ki tum usse pyaar karti ho."

("I know you love him.")

Before I could answer properly, he took my hand. His palm was warm and firm.
"Dekho, Mujhe nhi pata tumhari pareshani kya hai par, aise thik nhi hai, agar tum btaogi to main tumhari achhe se help kr paunga."

("See, i really don't know what the problem with you, but it's not good, if you don't tell me how can I suppose to help you.")

I pulled my hand free, licking the ice cream slowly to buy a little composure.
"Humlog itne bhi close nhi hai Aransh" I said too lightly.

("We're not that close, Aransh")

He didn't let it pass. " Tumhe daar hai kisi baat ka?" His concern was blunt and direct."

("You have some fear?")

"Nahi, Mujhe ab kisi baat ka daar nhi hai.
Daar se humari kismat nhi badlti hai."i shot back.

("No. I don't have fear of anything. Will fear change my fate?")

"No-refusal might," he replied, quick as a verdict.

Bitterness climbed my throat, louder sharper than any blade. "What's the use of fighting a war where God himself has already written my defeat?"

"Alisha!" He said.

"I'm sorry" i said quickly, calming oneself down "Sorry"

"Mujhe sorry kyu bol rhi ho, bhawgan ko bolo." He said.

("Why say sorry to me, say to God")

"Nahi, tumhe bol diya kafi hai." I replied.

("No, I told you that is enough")

<•∆∆∆∆∆•>

For a while, neither of us spoke. The silence in between us stretched long, Finally, I broke it, my voice careful, searching.
"Do you want to say something else, Aransh?"

He shifted slightly, his expression tightening. When he finally spoke,
"Yes. I can't keep pretending anymore."

A chill ran down my spine. My brows knit together. "Pretending? What. Why?"

His eyes didn't waver. "I can't just sit here like this, Alisha. I have work, a life, in Mumbai. I'm not the kind of man who can waste time sitting around without reason."

I turned to him sharply. "You're not wasting time. You're helping me."

"But why?" he pressed, voice rising with frustration. "Why am I helping you when I don't even know the reason behind it? It doesn't feel right."

I felt my chest tighten. "What doesn't feel right to you?"

He looked straight at me "What you're doing with Jayant. Keeping him at a distance. Just like you did with me.. a year and half  ago."

The air seemed to leave my lungs. My heart stuttered, but I forced my voice to stay cold, detached. "There's a difference between you and him."

His jaw clenched. "And what difference is that?"

"He's my friend," I said simply.

He gave a short, bitter laugh. "And what am I? Some stranger? In the end, the result's the same. You pushed me away. And now you're pushing him away too. You're selfish, Alisha. Too selfish. Other people's feelings mean nothing to you. You crushed mine back then, and now you're doing the same to Jayant."

The words hit like knives, but I didn't flinch. "Jayant has no feelings for me."

"Oh, doesn't he?" Aransh shot back. His eyes were sharp, accusing. "Because I see it. Clearly."

"Then you're seeing wrong," I snapped.

"And you're always right, aren't you?" he countered.

"Yes," I said firmly, my voice hard. "I've known Jayant for seventeen years. I know him better than anyone."

A quiet, pained smile tugged at his lips. "Or maybe... the way Jayant doesn't truly know you, you don't truly know him either."

The words stung more than I cared to admit. I straightened, my voice steady but sharp. "I do know him. Better than anyone ever could."

He studied me for a long moment, then finally exhaled, said "Fine. After the Sangeet, I'll go back to Mumbai."

"Fine," I said flatly. "Go."

And just like that, the silence returned, thick and unyielding. We both slid back into the car, neither daring to look at the other. The engine started, and the road stretched ahead toward Dip's place-quiet, endless, and heavy with all the words we had spoken... and all the ones we hadn't.

<•∆∆∆∆∆•>

The moment I stepped inside, Dip looked up from the group and called out, "So... dance practice done?"

I didn't bother answering properly. "There won't be any dance," I muttered, brushing past him and walking further in. My chest felt heavy, so I sat down for a moment, breathing deeply until I could collect myself. Then I forced my body into action-dressed, fixed my hair, and stepped out again.

The Sangeet was set up in the garden. Lights sparkled across the trees, laughter floated in the air, and music vibrated through the ground. Everything looked perfect, festive, alive. And yet, I felt like an outsider wandering through it.

I spotted Rishi first and walked toward him. "You look good," I said with a small smile.

He grinned, his eyes scanning me. "Not as good as you. You look... beautiful."

I shook my head, brushing off the compliment, and asked, "Jayant hasn't come yet?"

Rishi's reply was casual. "He won't come. He had to go out for something."

"Where?" I pressed.

"Why don't you call him and ask yourself?"

My throat tightened. "I... I can't. We argued last night."

Rishi's gaze sharpened, his eyes narrowing in a way that made me restless. "Just an argue?" he asked, almost knowingly.

I forced a laugh. "It happens between friends. Anyway, I'll go meet the others." And before he could push further, I slipped away.

But I knew the truth-Rishi knew everything about me. He always did.

The music swelled as one performance after another lit up the stage. I was standing near the edge when suddenly, Aransh appeared in front of me. His face was calm, almost unreadable. "We're next," he said simply.

I swallowed hard, guilt tugging at me. "Aransh... I'm sorry. For my behavior earlier in the evening."

His lips curved slightly. "I'm sorry too. Now come on."

I didn't move. My feet stayed rooted. What was the point? Jayant wasn't here. All of this-the practices, the performance-it was only ever meant for him to see. My heart whispered the truth I couldn't say aloud. "Aransh. Man nhi hai ab"

("I don't feel like dancing.")

Aransh noticed. His voice dropped, sharp but not unkind. "Man nhi hai ya jayant nhi hai"

("You don't feel like dancing-or is it just because Jayant isn't here?")

I lowered my head. I couldn't lie, so I just nodded faintly.

His reply came fast, almost like a challenge. "Alisha, this isn't just about Jayant. This is about me too. I'm your fake boyfriend, not only for him but for everyone standing here watching. My reputation is on the line. So you will have to dance with me."

His conviction startled me. Then, with a sudden flash of mischief in his eyes, he extended his hand. "Now, let's go."

A reluctant smile tugged at my lips. Against my better judgment, I reached out, ready to place my hand in his. But just then, my phone rang-Dr. Dutta.

"Just a minute," I told him, excusing myself quickly.

The music around me was too loud, drowning out everything. "Hello, doctor? Hello?" I tried, my voice raised. His voice crackled on the other end. "Alisha... I can't hear you. Your voice is breaking-" His words faded under the thumping bass of the Sangeet. And then the line went dead.

I stared at my phone for a moment, uneasy, before shoving it back into my bag. I'll call him after the dance, I told myself. Just after our performance.

Taking a steadying breath, I walked onto the stage.

At first, the couple's dance felt too close, too intimate-his hand firm on my waist, his breath brushing my cheek. My body stiffened, resisting the closeness. But then, the music changed abruptly, shifting into something faster, lighter, playful. The mood flipped. Almost instinctively, we fell into rhythm, moving not like forced partners, but like friends caught in the music.

The crowd responded immediately. Others rushed to join us, It no longer felt like a performance-it felt like a celebration.

When the dance ended, I slipped off the stage, my chest rising and falling. For the first time that evening, a trace of genuine warmth lingered on my lips. But deep inside, the unanswered call, Jayant's absence, and Aransh's piercing words still pulsed like shadows I couldn't escape.

I stepped away from the stage, clutching my phone tightly as I dialed Dr. Dutta's number. My heart was still racing from the performance, the noise of the sangeet fading behind me.

"Tell me, Dr. Dutta... what were you saying?" I asked, my voice uneasy.

His tone was grave, each word sinking into me like a weight. "Alisha, your recent test reports saying your condition... it's moving into the worst stage."

My chest tightened. But before I could process his words, I froze-Jayant was walking toward me. His eyes, burning with fury, locked on mine. I could feel the hatred radiating from him even before he spoke. My phone slipped from my trembling hand, clattering to the ground.

"Happy now, Aalu?" His voice was sharp, venom-laced.

"What?" I whispered, startled.

"Happy, aren't you? After destroying my life." His words cut like glass.

"W-what are you saying, Jayant?" I asked, my body stiff, my heart pounding.

"My perfect life-shattered. Everything was fine. I was happy with Shreya, and then you ruined it all."

"Bhalu-" I began, my voice shaking.

"Don't call me that!" he snapped.

"J... Jayant," I whispered.

"Yes. Jayant Patil. Say it properly. Because I don't even want to be friends with a selfish girl like you."

The words pierced straight into my heart. He wasn't finished.

"I was honest with you, Alisha. Always. And you? You lied to me. About everything. Even about us. Seventeen years-and how many lies did you feed me? I read your books, you know. The stories you told me, they're not the same as the ones you wrote. The main character-it's me, isn't it? You used me. You wrote about me without even asking. You thought I wouldn't notice because I don't read romance novels. But I did. I saw. You turned me into your story without my consent."

"Jayant..." Tears blurred my vision, my throat closing up.

He didn't stop. "You lied about Dip too. Your relationship with dip back in college was fake. And now Aransh? Another fake? Another mask? You're fake, Alisha. Your love is fake. Everything about you is fake."

"Jayant-" My voice broke. His words were blades carving through me.

"Tumne to apne jhuth se, meri puri zindagi hi jhuth bana di"

("You've made my entire life a lie with your lies.")

"Na.nahi, Jayant"

("No jayant")

"Kyu tumne haar baar mujhse jhuth kaha, tumhe mujh pe bharosha nhi tha, humari dosti pe bharosha nhi tha, ek baar bata ke dekhti naah"

("Why did you lie to me so often? You didn't trust me, you didn't trust our friendship. Why wouldn't you just tell me once?")

"Nahi bata paayi, Tu..tumhe khone ke dar se....."

("I couldn't tell you... I was afraid of losing you...")

"Daar, kis baat ka...Tumse to dur kabhi ja hi nhi paya main."

("Afraid, for what... I've never been able to stay away from you.")

"J.. jayant.." tears roll down my cheeks.

"Tum kya chahti ho alisha?"

("What do you want alisha")

"Main..B..bs chahti hu tum mujhe bhool jao, tumhe woh dard mehsus na karna pade jo mene Kiya hai"

"Kaisa dard?"

"Kisi ko khone ka dard, mujhe bhool jao, tumhe dard kam hoga mere jaane ka."

("I... I just want you to forget me, so you don't have to feel the pain I've been through."

"What pain?"

"The pain of losing someone. Forget me... it'll hurt you less when I'm gone.")

"Thik hai main tumhe bhool jaunga, par badle main tumhe bhi mujhe bhoolna hoga, puri tarah se" His words were blades carving through me.

("Alright, I'll forget you... but in return, you'll have to forget me too - completely.")

"Nahi!" I screamed, my voice raw. "No, I won't forget you! Never! Alisha can never forget Jayant!"

I was shaking, crying uncontrollably. Suddenly, arms wrapped around me-Aransh's.

"Alisha, what happened? Calm down," he whispered, trying to steady me.

"He... how can he say that?" I sobbed against his chest.

"Who, Alisha?" Aransh asked gently.

But Jayant's voice still echoed in my ears. You'll forget me. You'll forget me.

"No! No, Jayant, I won't forget you!" I cried. "Main tumhe kabhi nhi bhool sakti."

("I can never forget you."

"Alisha, relax," Aransh said firmly, but his voice was distant.

I turned, pointing ahead. "He's right there! Can't you see him?"

Aransh's brows furrowed. "Alisha... there's no one here. Just you and me."

But I saw him. I knew I did. Jayant stood before me, his eyes softer now, a faint smile on his lips. My heart leapt-he was real, he was here.

"See? He's right there!" I said desperately, moving toward him.
"Agar main tumhe bhool gyi to mere pas kuch nahi rahega yaad rakhne ko"

( "Jayant... if I forget you, I'll have nothing left to remember.")

I reached out, fingertips trembling, trying to touch him-only for his figure to shimmer, smile, and vanish. Gone. What.

My breath hitched. My knees weakened. He was vanished in air.

"Alisha, are you okay?" Aransh's voice came from behind. He stepped closer, cupping my face with his hands, worry etched deep in his eyes. "You're shaking. I'll get you some water."

As he left, I stood frozen, the world spinning around me. Slowly, I bent down, picked up my fallen phone, and redialed Dr. Dutta.

"How much time do I have left, Doctor?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

There was silence. Then his voice, heavy with concern. "You've started experiencing hallucinations, haven't you? You can't tell what's real and what's not."

"My fear... it's becoming my reality," I murmured.

"Come to the hospital tomorrow morning. Bring Alok ji with you. We have much to discuss."

"...Alright, Doctor," I replied, and ended the call, the emptiness around me louder than any music from the sangeet.

<•∆∆•°•∆∆•>

Papa sat quietly in front of me, his warm hand stroking my hair with care. His touch was steady, but I could feel the tremor in his fingers. Dr. Dutta had already told him everything over the phone-about my current condition.

Across the room, Aransh stood awkwardly, his brows furrowed in worry. "Alisha... what happened to you a little while ago?" he asked carefully.

I didn't answer. My lips stayed sealed, my gaze on the floor.

Papa turned to him instead. "Nothing," he said, his voice low. "Alisha isn't feeling well." Then he looked back at me, his eyes soft but full of hidden panic. "Come on, beta. Let's go home."

I only nodded, my body moving mechanically as I rose to follow him.

And then-I saw him.
Jayant.

He stood near the garden, half-shadowed, looking at me with those eyes I knew so well. My heart clenched painfully. Again. Another hallucination. Another piece of my mind blurring the lines of reality. But even as I told myself he wasn't there, I couldn't look away.

Jayant had been right. I had lied and lied until our bond had become paper-thin, until his anger had become inevitable. His fury was justified. I'd done this.

I turned to Papa, murmured an excuse, and slowly walked toward the figure in the garden. The world around me faded-the voices, the lights, even the people around me. All I could see was Jayant.

His eyes weren't furious anymore. They were soft, glistening, full of something heavier than reproach. He said nothing, no accusations, no complaints-just watched me, as if waiting.

I moved closer, my heart pounding so hard it hurt. "I've lied to you so many times," I whispered, my voice breaking. "But for the last time, I'm telling you the truth."

I took a long, shaky breath, tears spilling freely now. "Main maar rahi hu jayant" I confessed, the words ripping out of me. "I'm dying. I have.... Neurostoma." (Fictional illness). word felt bitter and final on my tongue. My throat closed. I couldn't speak anymore.

("I'm dying, Jayant,")

Jayant stepped toward me-this time real, solid, warm. Before I could even question it, his arms wrapped around me. He pulled me against his chest, and for a heartbeat the world stopped. We both broke then, sobbing, our tears soaking each other's skin.

He held me tighter, his grip fierce, desperate. He hadn't vanished. He was real.

"Jayant... you're really here," I cried into his shoulder.

He pressed his lips to my hair, his voice trembling but firm. "I won't let anything happen to you. As long as I'm breathing, your breath will never leave you."

In his arms, I found the thing I'd been losing piece by piece-peace. The chaos inside me went still. In his embrace, I felt like Alisha again-not the liar, not the patient, not the girl breaking apart-but simply Alisha, held by the boy who often called me his Aalu.

__________________________________________

⚠️Important note

In story, I use the term neurostoma instead of glioblastoma, which is a real brain tumor. I created this fictional version inspired by the real disease because I didn't want to directly use the name glioblastoma and do misrepresenting its symptoms or treatments. By introducing a new term, I can portray the illness in a way that fits for story without being restricted by medical facts. Please don't compare it with real tumor.

Now author's words
I don’t know why I’m feeling so unsure about this chapter. Is chapter ko lekar dhuk dhuk ho raha hai dil me. Delay ke liye khed hai.

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