A U T H O R
The ICU room was dimly lit, the hum of machines filling the silence as Karanveer sat beside Aaravi, his head resting on her hand. His face was pale from sleepless nights, his eyes puffy from crying endlessly. The strong, protective brother who had always been Aaraviâs shield now sat broken, his world hanging by a fragile threadâthe hope that his sister would wake up.
The tension in the room was thick, the air heavy with anticipation and dread. It had been days since she had slipped into this unresponsive state, and every moment felt like an eternity. Karanveer, unable to leave her side, had barely eaten or slept. His only comfort was being near her, holding her hand, and silently pleading with her to wake up.
As he drifted into a restless slumber, his fingers loosely wrapped around hers, a faint movement jolted him. At first, he thought he had imagined itâa trick played by his exhausted mind. But then it happened again. A slight twitch, subtle but unmistakable.
Karanveerâs eyes shot open, and he sat up abruptly, his heart racing. Rubbing his eyes, he looked down at Aaraviâs hand. For a moment, he doubted himself. Had it really happened?
And then it did. Her fingers moved again, a delicate but deliberate motion that shattered the suffocating stillness in the room.
Karanveerâs breath hitched, and his vision blurred as tears streamed down his face. His chest tightened, a mixture of relief and overwhelming emotion threatening to consume him. "Princessâ¦" he whispered, his voice trembling.
He quickly stood up, his chair screeching against the floor. For a moment, he was frozen, staring at her hand as if afraid that this fragile sign of life would disappear if he blinked. But the reality of what had just happened hit him like a wave, and he sprang into action.
Without wasting a second, Karanveer rushed out of the room, his footsteps echoing down the hospital corridor. Nurses and attendants turned to look at him, startled by the sudden commotion, but he paid them no mind. His destination was clearâthe doctorâs cabin.
Reaching the door, he didnât bother to knock. He barged in, startling the doctor, who was busy reviewing patient charts.
"Doctor!" Karanveerâs voice cracked, his emotions spilling over. "She⦠she moved her fingers! Aaravi moved her fingers!"
The doctor looked up, momentarily stunned by Karanveerâs outburst. Seeing the raw hope and desperation in his eyes, the doctor stood up immediately, grabbing his stethoscope and medical bag.
"Calm down, Mr. Sachdeva. Letâs go check her," the doctor said, his tone steady but urgent.
Karanveer nodded, his legs trembling as he followed the doctor back to the ward. Each step he took felt like walking through quicksand, slow and burdensome, yet every second mattered. The dimly lit corridor seemed to stretch endlessly, the walls closing in as his mind raced with possibilities.
"What if it was just a reflex? What if the doctor comes and finds nothing?" he thought, his heart pounding in his chest. Yet, amidst all the doubt and fear, a fragile flame of hope flickered within him. He clung to it desperately, praying it wouldnât be snuffed out.
Finally, they reached the ward. Karanveer hesitated outside the door for a moment, his hand hovering over the handle. The doctor placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, nodding for him to proceed. Gathering every ounce of courage, Karanveer pushed open the door and stepped inside.
The steady beeping of the heart monitor filled the room, a constant reminder of Aaraviâs fragile state. She lay there, pale and motionless, the soft glow of the machines casting a faint light on her delicate features. Karanveerâs throat tightened as he watched the doctor approach her bed.
The doctor leaned over Aaravi, his movements deliberate and careful. He checked her vitals, his practiced hands gliding over her wrist, forehead, and chest. Karanveer stood frozen, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.
"Move her fingers," Karanveer urged, his voice barely above a whisper. His plea carried a desperation that couldnât be ignored.
The doctor glanced at him, his expression calm and focused. Nodding, he gently pressed against Aaraviâs palm. "Aaravi," he said softly, his voice steady, "if you can hear us, try to move your fingers."
For a moment, there was nothing. The stillness in the room became suffocating, each second stretching into eternity. Karanveerâs heart sank, and doubt began to creep back in.
And then, it happened. A faint twitch, so subtle that it could have easily been missed. But Karanveer saw it. His eyes widened, and his breath hitched.
"She moved!" he exclaimed, his voice trembling with a mixture of disbelief and hope.
The doctor nodded and pressed her palm again, encouraging her further. This time, her fingers twitched more distinctly, curling slightly around his hand.
"Sheâs responding," the doctor confirmed, his voice steady but tinged with relief. "This is a very good sign, Mr. Sachdeva. Her body is reacting. Itâs a step toward recovery."
Karanveerâs legs buckled beneath him, and he sank into the chair beside her bed. His hands covered his face as a tidal wave of emotion crashed over him. Relief poured out in the form of uncontrollable sobs, his body shaking as he cried.
"Thank you, Doctor," he managed to choke out between his tears. "Thank you so much."
The doctor placed a reassuring hand on Karanveerâs shoulder. "Sheâs a fighter. Keep talking to her, keep encouraging her. Itâll help her regain consciousness fully."
Karanveer nodded, his resolve strengthening. As the doctor left the room, Karanveer turned his attention back to Aaravi. He took her hand in his, his tears falling onto her delicate fingers.
"Princess," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, "I knew you wouldnât leave me. I knew youâd fight your way back to us. Thatâs who you areâmy strong, stubborn sister."
He kissed her hand gently, a soft smile breaking through his tears. But before he could say anything more, he noticed something. Her eyelashes fluttered. It was barely perceptible, but it was there.
"Doctor!" he called out, his voice laced with urgency. "Her eyes⦠theyâre flickering!"
The doctor hurried back into the room, immediately moving to Aaraviâs side. He leaned over her, his voice calm yet encouraging. "Aaravi, if you can hear us, try to open your eyes. Youâre safe. Youâre surrounded by people who love you."
Aaraviâs eyelashes fluttered again, this time more deliberately. Slowly, she began to open her eyes, her movements hesitant and weak. Her eyelids parted just enough to reveal her unfocused gaze.
Karanveer leaned closer, his heart pounding with both joy and concern. "Princess, itâs me. Itâs your brother," he said softly.
Aaravi blinked, her expression dazed. She tried to speak, but her throat was too dry, and a faint groan escaped her lips instead. The effort seemed to exhaust her, and her head lolled slightly to the side.
The doctor placed a hand on Karanveerâs shoulder, offering a reassuring nod. "Itâs okay. Sheâs disoriented, which is normal after being unconscious for so long. She needs rest and hydration. But this is a huge step forward."
Karanveer let out a shaky breath, his chest swelling with hope. He watched as Aaraviâs eyes fluttered shut again, but this time, it wasnât the lifeless stillness he had feared for so many days. This was different. She was here. She was fighting.
A faint movement stirred her fingers, and then, like a gentle breeze, a whisper escaped her lips. "Water."
The single word was barely audible, but to Karanveer, it was as loud as a thunderclap. His heart skipped a beat, and he quickly leaned closer. "Princess, did you say something? Water? Do you want water?"
Her eyelids fluttered open, her gaze weak and unfocused, but she nodded ever so slightly.
Karanveer scrambled to pour water into a small cup, his hands trembling with emotion. "Here, princess," he said softly, bringing the cup to her lips. He tilted it gently, letting the cool liquid trickle into her mouth. Aaravi sipped slowly, her parched throat finding some relief.
As she finished, Karanveer set the cup aside and cupped her face with his hands. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he whispered, "Thank you, princess. Thank you for coming back to me. I thought I lost you, but youâre here. Youâre back. Do you know how scared I was? How broken I felt?"
His voice cracked, and he leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Youâve always been my strength, Aaravi. I need you. I canât imagine a world without you."
Aaravi blinked slowly, her lips twitching as if she wanted to say something, but no words came out. She was too weak, her body drained from the ordeal she had endured.
"Mr. Sachdeva," the doctor said, moving toward Aaraviâs bed. "Let me check her vitals."
Karanveer reluctantly let go of her hand and stepped aside, watching anxiously as the doctor examined Aaravi. The stethoscope was placed gently against her chest, and her pulse was checked. The doctorâs movements were methodical, his expression giving nothing away.
After a few minutes, the doctor straightened up and turned to Karanveer. "Her vitals are stable, which is a very positive sign. However, her body is still extremely weak. Being unconscious for so many days has taken a toll on her, and sheâll need proper rest and care to recover fully."
Karanveer nodded vigorously, relief flooding his features. "Iâll make sure she gets all the rest and care she needs. Whatever it takes, Doctor, Iâll do it."
The doctor placed a reassuring hand on Karanveerâs shoulder. "Iâm sure you will. Sheâs lucky to have a brother like you. But remember, recovery will be slow. Donât rush her, and donât let her exert herself. Emotional support is just as important as physical care right now."
Karanveer nodded again, his gaze fixed on Aaraviâs face. She looked so fragile, yet seeing her open her eyes and sip water felt like a miracle. "Iâll take care of her, Doctor. I promise."
The doctor gave him a small smile before leaving the room, leaving Karanveer alone with his sister once more.
Karanveer returned to her bedside, pulling the chair closer. He gently took her hand in his again, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. "Did you hear that, princess? The doctor said youâre going to be okay. Youâre going to get better, but you need to rest now. No more scaring me like this, okay?"
Aaraviâs lips twitched slightly, almost as if she wanted to smile, but her eyes fluttered shut once more. Her body needed rest, and Karanveer understood that.
He sat back in his chair, his fingers still intertwined with hers. As the silence of the room enveloped them, Karanveer allowed himself to breathe deeply, his heart finally feeling a semblance of peace. His princess was still weak, but she was here. She had fought her way back to him, and that was all that mattered.
He leaned his head against the edge of the bed, his tears flowing freely once more. But this time, they werenât tears of despairâthey were tears of gratitude, of relief, of love.
"Youâre my everything, Aaravi," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Iâll do whatever it takes to see you healthy and happy again. Just promise me youâll keep fighting, okay? For me, for us."
A A R A V I
I opened my eyes slowly, and for a moment, everything was dark. A dull, throbbing pain pounded in my head, and my body felt as though it had been through a storm. Every muscle ached, and when I tried to move, a sharp pain shot through me, forcing me to stop.
What happened to me? Why does everything hurt so much?
A faint movement stirred my fingers, and then, like a gentle breeze, a whisper escaped from my lips, "Water."
My voice sounded foreign, raspy and weak, as if it hadnât been used in days. My throat burned with dryness, and I felt as though Iâd been wandering in a desert.
I heard movement around me, hurried yet careful. Soon, a cool cup touched my lips, and the moment the water came in contact with my parched throat, I felt a wave of relief. It wasnât much, just a few sips, but it was enough to soothe the fire inside me.
I opened my eyes fully this time. My vision was blurry at first, but as I blinked a few times, the sterile white walls of the hospital room came into focus. I looked around, trying to make sense of my surroundings.
Then, I saw himâVeer Bhai. He was sitting beside me, his eyes red and puffy, his face pale, and tears streaming down his cheeks. I had never seen him look so broken. He was saying something, his lips moving rapidly, but I couldnât hear him properly. My ears were ringing, and everything sounded muffled, like I was underwater.
I felt his lips press softly against my forehead, his touch warm and comforting, but my mind was racing, trying to piece together the fragments of my memory. Why am I in this room? Why is he crying?
And then, like a floodgate opening, it all came rushing back. The accusations. The shouting. The heartbreak.
The tears welled up in my eyes before I could stop them. It all felt too much, too overwhelming. I had been accused, humiliated, and left to suffer alone. The memory of those words, the hate in his eyesâit was a pain far worse than the physical one I was feeling now.
A gentle hand wiped away my tears, pulling me out of my spiral of thoughts. "Why are you crying, princess?" Veer Bhaiâs voice was soft, filled with worry and affection. His words wrapped around me like a blanket, but I couldnât bring myself to respond.
I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. My throat tightened, and I felt like I was choking on everything I wanted to say. How could I tell him? How could I explain the depth of the hurt I was carrying?
"Shh, itâs okay," he said, his thumb gently brushing against my cheek. "You donât have to say anything right now. Iâm just so glad youâre awake. You have no idea how scared I was. Donât ever do this to me again, Aaravi. Please."
I wanted to tell him that it wasnât my choice, that I never wanted to end up here, lying in this bed like a lifeless doll. But the words wouldnât come. Instead, I just stared at him, my vision blurred by the tears that refused to stop.
He kept talking, his voice soothing, but I couldnât focus on his words. My mind was too chaotic, replaying the moments that had brought me here. I remembered Nikshant ji's face, the way his eyes had burned with accusations, his voice laced with anger. I remembered the way my world had shattered in an instant, leaving me to pick up the pieces alone.
I thought he was healing â something he didn't break, but little did I know that he would shattered it into pieces that could never be mended.
Even after everything, I foolishly fell in love with him. Despite the walls I built around my heart, despite the promises I made to myself, it happened. How could it not? He had a way of sneaking past every defense, of slipping through the cracks I thought were sealed tight.
It wasnât in the grand gestures; no, Nikshant ji wasnât a man of grand gestures. It was in the little thingsâthe rare softness in his voice when he spoke to me in moments of vulnerability. Those fleeting moments of care felt like stolen treasures, enough to make my foolish heart beat faster.
I had warned myself not to fall, over and over again. I told myself that loving him would only lead to pain, that he wasnât the man I thought he could be. But destiny, cruel and unforgiving, had other plans. It lured me into the trap, made me believe in a future that was never meant to be mine.
And I fell. Hard.
I fell for the man who would smile at me in rare moments of affection. I fell for the man who could silence a room with his commanding presence. I fell for the man who, despite his flaws, made me feel seen in ways I hadnât before.
But falling in love with him was the beginning of my undoing.
I never imagined that the same man who once held my hand with tenderness could become the very reason for my destruction. Never in my wildest dreams did I think Nikshant ji could stoop so low, that he would think so little of me, that he would believe the worst about me without a shred of hesitation.
The memory of his accusations still burned like acid on my skin. His words, sharp and cruel, played on repeat in my mind, each one cutting deeper than the last.
How could he?
How could he look at me, the woman who loved him more than I loved myself, and think I was capable of such betrayal? How could he not see the truth in my eyes, not hear the honesty in my voice when I tried to defend myself?
My heart ached, torn between the love I still felt for him and the unbearable pain he had caused. Even now, as I lay here, weak and broken, his face haunted me. The way he had looked at me in that momentâcold, distant, full of doubtâit was a look I would never forget.
I had given him everything. My trust, my loyalty, my heart. And in return, he gave me betrayal.
I stared at the ceiling, my thoughts a chaotic storm. The weight of my feelings was suffocating, the love and hurt intertwining in a way that made it impossible to separate one from the other.
Why did I let myself love him? Why did I allow myself to believe in something that was doomed from the start?
A bitter laugh escaped my lips, though it quickly turned into a sob. This was my fate, wasnât it? To love a man who would never truly see me, who would never understand the depth of my feelings.
I thought back to the moments when he had shown me kindness, when he had made me believe that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for us. Those moments felt like a cruel joke now, a way for destiny to give me hope only to snatch it away.
But even as the pain consumed me, I couldnât bring myself to hate him.
No matter how much I wanted to, no matter how much I told myself that he didnât deserve my love, my heart refused to listen. It still beat for him, foolishly, pathetically.
I closed my eyes, trying to silence the thoughts that wouldnât leave me alone. But instead of finding peace, I saw his face.
I saw the man I loved.
The man who had unknowingly destroyed me.
Maybe I was the fool.
Maybe loving him was my biggest mistake.
But even as I thought that, a small, broken part of me whispered, âMaybe it wasnât.â
A thought emerged in my mindâa thought I never believed I would entertain. But as the ache in my chest deepened, as the weight of everything I had endured pressed down on me, I realized I had no choice. This decision, however difficult, was the only way forward.
My voice was barely audible, even to myself, but I needed to speak. I had to say the words that had been forming in my mind. Summoning every ounce of strength I had, I tried to call for Veer Bhai. My lips parted, but the sound that escaped was so faint that even I couldnât hear it clearly.
Still, to my surprise, Veer Bhai stirred in his seat beside me. His eyes, red and heavy with sleepless nights, lifted to meet mine.
"Did you say something, Princess?" he asked softly, leaning closer.
I tried again, forcing the words out despite the strain. "If... I... say... something... will... you... please... do... for... me?" I stammered, each word a battle against my bodyâs weakness.
His brows furrowed with concern, but he nodded immediately. "Of course, Aaravi. Anything you need. Just tell me."
His reassurance gave me a small spark of courage. I swallowed hard, trying to steady my trembling voice. My heart pounded as I prepared to voice my request. It wasnât just a simple favor I was asking forâit was a decision that would alter everything.
"I... want... them... here," I stammered, my words fragmented but resolute.
Veer Bhaiâs expression froze for a moment, his mind clearly racing to interpret my broken sentence. And then, understanding dawned in his eyes.
"Are you sure, Princess?" he asked, his voice laced with hesitation.
I nodded weakly, my eyes filling with tears. This wasnât a choice I was making lightly. It was born out of desperation, out of a need to confront what I had been running from.
Veer Bhai studied me carefully, as if searching for any sign of doubt. When he found none, he let out a sigh and gave me a faint smile. "Okay, Princess. Youâll have them in front of you in thirty minutes."
As he stood to leave the room, I felt a strange mix of relief and fear. This was it. There was no turning back now.
The next thirty minutes felt like an eternity. Every second was filled with an agonizing anticipation. My mind replayed everything that had brought me to this pointâthe pain, the betrayal, the love I still couldnât let go of.
He walked toward me with slow, measured steps, a solemn look on his face. In his hand was a stack of papers. My heart sank as realization struckâdivorce papers.
The sharp pain in my chest was unbearable, spreading like wildfire. It felt as though someone was tearing my heart apart, piece by piece. I couldnât hold his gaze anymore, so I closed my eyes tightly, trying to gather the fragments of my shattered courage. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, the image of those papers haunted me.
When I opened my eyes again, Veer Bhaiya was standing beside my bed, his expression unreadable. He placed the papers gently on the small table next to me, as if even touching them too harshly would cause more pain.
"Are you sure, Princess?" he asked softly, his voice filled with concern.
I swallowed hard, my throat dry and scratchy. The words I wanted to say were stuck, trapped in the storm of emotions raging within me. I forced myself to take a deep breath, even though it hurt, and nodded weakly.
"I...amm...sure," I stammered, my voice barely audible.
The moment the words left my lips, I felt a sharp pang in my chest. It wasnât just emotional pain anymoreâit was physical. My heart was aching, protesting against the decision my mind had made.
Veer Bhaiyaâs eyes softened as he looked at me. He knew how much I was hurting, even if I tried to hide it. "Princess," he said gently, sitting down beside me, "you donât have to do this if youâre not ready. No one is forcing you. You can take your time."
But time wasnât the problem. The problem was the weight of everything that had happenedâthe accusations, the betrayal, the love that had turned into anguish. I couldnât carry it any longer. I couldnât let myself be tied to a person who had brought me so much pain, no matter how deeply I had loved him.
"I...have to," I whispered, tears pooling in my eyes.
Veer Bhaiya reached out and gently wiped the tears that had slipped down my cheeks. His touch was warm, comforting, but it wasnât enough to ease the storm within me.
"Youâre so brave, Princess," he said, his voice breaking slightly. "Braver than I ever could be. If this is what you want, then Iâll stand by you every step of the way. But it doesnât mean itâs easy for me to see you like this."
I turned my head slightly, my gaze falling on the divorce papers. They were just pieces of paper, yet they carried the weight of my entire world. Signing them would mean severing ties with the man who had once been my everything. It would mean letting go of the dreams I had built around us, the future I had imagined.
My trembling fingers reached out toward the papers, but I couldnât bring myself to pick them up. The memories flooded backâhis smile, his laughter. But those memories were quickly overshadowed by the pain, the accusations, the betrayal that had brought me here.
"Take your time," Veer Bhaiya said softly, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder.
I shook my head, forcing myself to focus. I couldnât let myself waver now. If I hesitated, I knew I would fall apart completely.
"I need...to do this," I said, more to myself than to him.
Veer Bhaiya nodded, understanding my unspoken struggle. He leaned back in his chair, giving me space to process everything.
As I stared at the papers, my heart continued to ache, each beat a painful reminder of what I was about to do. But deep down, I knew it was the right choice. I couldnât keep holding on to something that was tearing me apart.
Summoning every ounce of strength I had left, I reached for the pen Veer Bhaiya had placed next to the papers. My hand shook as I picked it up, my grip unsteady.
Just as I was about to sign, a wave of doubt washed over me. What if I was making a mistake? What if there was still a chance to salvage what we had? But then I remembered the accusations, the way he had looked at me with doubt instead of trust. That was the moment I knewâthere was no going back.
I pressed the pen to the paper, my hand trembling as I signed my name. With each stroke of the pen, a piece of my heart broke away. When I was done, I let the pen fall from my hand, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath.
N I K S H A N T
As I stepped into the hospital ward, my heart raced with anticipation. Aaravi had finally opened her eyes. The thought of seeing her awake, hearing her voice again, filled me with a strange mix of relief and hope.
But nothing could have prepared me for what was to come.
"I want a divorce, Mr. Kapoor," she said, her voice cold and detached.
The world seemed to tilt on its axis, and I felt as if the ground beneath my feet had been pulled away. Her words hit me like a hammer, shattering the fragile hope I had been clinging to.
"What are you saying, Cherry?" I asked, my voice trembling as I tried to process her words.
"I am saying I want a divorce, Mr. Kapoor," she repeated, her tone trembling slightly but firm enough to send a chill down my spine.
"Cherry," I tried to say again, reaching out for the warmth we once shared, but she cut me off sharply.
"Do not call me that," she said, her voice stern yet weak, as though the weight of her emotions was too much to bear.
Her eyes, once filled with love and hope, now stared at me with a mixture of pain and disdain. I felt my chest tighten as she took a deep breath, as if summoning the strength to say what came next.
"You know what the biggest mistake of my life is? Marrying you. And an even bigger mistake is loving someone like you," she said, her voice breaking with raw emotion. "I thought I could make you fall for me with my love, but I was wrong. You are truly a heartless person, incapable of love. Iâve now started hating myself for loving someone like you."
Her words felt like daggers, each one piercing deeper than the last. I opened my mouth to defend myself, to say somethingâanythingâbut she raised her hand, silencing me.
"Chup. Ekdum chup," she yelled, her voice echoing in the small room. "Aaj main bolungi aur aap sunenge."
I stood frozen, unable to move or speak, as she unleashed the storm within her.
"Did you ever love me, even for a moment? Answer me," she demanded, tears streaming down her face.
I felt a lump in my throat, my voice caught in my chest. Slowly, I shook my head, unable to lie to her. The truth was, I hadnât loved her at first. I had resented her, hated the circumstances that forced us together. But now... now things were different.
"It was me jo iss rishte ko ek chance dene ka socha," she continued, her voice cracking with emotion. "But ab aur nahi ho raha hai mujhse."
It was her. She was the one who had tried. She was the one who had hoped. And now, she was giving up.
"I canât do it anymore. I donât want to be with you," she said, her words laced with finality.
I felt my knees weaken, my heart pounding erratically. "W-what do yo-ou m-mean by you donât w-want to be with m-me?" I stammered, the mere thought of her leaving me sending shivers down my spine.
"I SAID I DONâT WANT TO BE WITH YOU, MR. NIKSHANT ROY KAPOOR!" she screamed, her voice filled with an anger I had never seen before.
Each word was like a bullet, tearing through my already shattered heart.
"People really say the truth," she continued, her voice colder now. "You donât have a heart inside you. You are a stone-hearted person. I just hate you."
Hate.
That single word was enough to crush whatever was left of me.
Before I could fully process the weight of her words, she handed me a stack of papers. My hands trembled as I took them, my eyes scanning the text through a haze of disbelief.
"What is this?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Divorce papers," she said, her tone devoid of emotion. "I have signed the divorce papers already, and you also have to sign."
Divorce.
The word echoed in my mind, louder than any sound I had ever heard. It felt like the walls were closing in around me, the air growing thinner with each passing second.
I looked at her, my vision blurred by tears. "Aaravi," I whispered, my voice breaking. "Please donât do this."
Her expression didnât falter. "You canât fix this, Nikshant. You canât undo what youâve done. Iâve tried, but I canât keep hurting myself for someone who doesnât care."
"But I do care!" I wanted to scream, but the words wouldnât come. Instead, I stood there, clutching the papers like a lifeline, even as they signaled the end of everything I had ever known.
The memories of our time together flashed before my eyesâher laughter, her warmth, the way she had cared for me despite everything. And then, the darker momentsâthe accusations, the misunderstandings, the pain I had caused her.
She was right. I had been blind to her love and deaf to her cries for understanding. And now, I was paying the price.
"Please," I tried again, my voice barely audible. "Donât do this."
But she didnât respond. Her silence was deafening, her resolve unshakable.
I felt a tear escape, sliding down my cheek. I hadnât cried in years, but now, standing before her, I felt like a lost child, desperate for something I couldnât have.
Her face turned away, as though the weight of her decision was too heavy to bear. "Itâs over, Nikshant," she said softly, her voice barely a whisper.
And just like that, my world shattered.
The papers slipped from my hand, falling to the floor with a soft thud. I didnât even bother to pick them up. I couldnât.
Instead, I stood there, frozen in place, watching as the woman I loved walked away from me, taking my heart with her.
And for the first time in my life, I understood the true meaning of loss.
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