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A U T H O R
Nikshant's body trembled violently, his muscles stiff from the biting cold. His clothes clung to his body, completely soaked, and his teeth clenched as his body shook uncontrollably. The storm raged on, the heavy downpour drenching him from head to toe, but he didn't move.
Didn't care.
Inside, Aaravi lay on her bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Her chest rose and fell in slow, measured breaths, but there was no emotion in her eyes. Nothing.
She had spent the last few hours convincing herself that she had done the right thing. Leaving. Running. Escaping.
But then...
A voice.
A yell.
A deep, desperate voice calling her name, cutting through the silence like a blade.
At first, she thought she imagined it. That maybe her mind was playing tricks on her, taunting her with memories she had tried so hard to bury. But then-
Again.
Louder.
More desperate.
Her heart pounded against her ribs, her fingers digging into the bedsheet as she slowly sat up. That voice... she knew it too well. It was embedded in her soul, haunting her dreams, breaking her in ways she could never explain.
Nikshant.
With hesitant steps, she moved toward the window, the weight of her emotions pressing down on her. Each step felt heavier than the last as if something inside her was begging her not to look, not to confirm what she already knew deep in her heart.
But she did.
She reached the window, peeked outside, and her breath hitched in her throat.
There he was.
Nikshant.
Standing outside in the heavy rain, his figure barely visible through the downpour, but she could see him. His body was shaking, his head tilted slightly downward, his hands clenched at his sides.
Her eyes widened in shock, and before she could stop herself, her fingers gripped the windowsill tightly.
What was he doing?
Why was he here?
Why was he calling her name like a madman in the middle of the night?
The sight of him-so broken, so vulnerable-sent a strange ache through her chest. She hated him. She was supposed to hate him.
Then why...
Why did it hurt to see him like this?
Aaravi stood frozen, her trembling hands gripping the windowsill so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Tears streamed down her face, mirroring the raindrops outside, her vision blurring as emotions she had tried so hard to suppress came crashing down on her.
"Why are you here, Nikshant ji?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the raging storm. "When I left everything behind⦠when I was finally trying to start a new life⦠why did you come here? How do you even know that Iâm in Italy?"
Her heart ached as she watched him, his figure soaked, his body shivering under the relentless downpour. He looked⦠broken. Defeated. A man who had everything but lost the only thing that mattered.
She flinched as his voice tore through the night again, raw and desperate.
"PLEASE, CHERRY! JUST FOR ONCE, LISTEN TO ME, PLEASE!"
His voice cracked at the end, the pain in it slicing through her defenses like a blade.
Aaravi clamped her hand over her mouth to stifle the sob that threatened to escape. Her shoulders shook as she tried to control the wreckage of emotions inside her, but she couldn't. It was too much. The sight of him kneeling in the rain, his hands clenched into fists on his lap, his head tilted toward the sky as if pleading with the universeâit shattered her.
Her chest tightened painfully, her breath coming in shallow gasps.
She had sworn to herself that she would never let him break her again. That she would never allow his presence to affect her. But here she was, sobbing like a fool, drowning in the pain he had caused her.
Why was he doing this?
Why now?
Why, after everything, was he still calling her Cherry as if he still had the right?
Her heart waged a brutal war against her mind, memories of their past flashing before her eyes like cruel reminders of everything they had once been and everything they had lost.
A part of her wanted to run down and throw herself into his arms, to let the rain wash away all the pain, to pretend that love could heal everything.
But the other partâthe one that remembered every ounce of suffering he had put her throughâreminded her why she had left in the first place.
She squeezed her eyes shut, gripping her chest as if trying to physically hold herself together.
She couldn't go to him.
She shouldnât.
And yetâ¦
Her gaze dropped back to him, and her breath hitched when she saw his head fall forward, his body swaying slightly.
"He will get sick," she murmured, her heart betraying her mind yet again.
Before she could stop herself, she turned away from the window and rushed toward the door, her feet moving faster than her thoughts.
A
aravi hurried down the stairs, her heart hammering against her chest. Every instinct in her body screamed at her to reach Nikshant, to drag him inside before the rain swallowed him whole.
Her fingers curled around the doorknob, but before she could twist it open, a firm grip latched onto her wrist, stopping her.
"You're not going outside, princess," Karanveer's voice was sharp, unyielding.
Aaravi turned to face him, her tear-streaked face desperate, pleading. "Par bhaiya, woh beemar padh jayenge itni heavy baarish mein! Unhe jaldi thand lag jaati hai!" Her voice cracked as she struggled against his grip, trying to pull her hand free, but Karanveer only tightened his hold.
His expression hardened, his jaw clenched in frustration. "Let him taste his own medicine," he snapped. "Aur usne jo tumhare saath kiya uska kya, princess?" His voice rose, his anger barely restrained.
Aaravi flinched at his words, but her heart refused to listen to reason. Her mind echoed with images of Nikshant outside, drenched, shivering, his body trembling against the cold night air.
"Par please, bhaiya," she choked out, her voice breaking with helplessness. "He will get sick! At least if I can't go outside, you can! Just go tell him to leave! Ya phir andar hi bula lo!"
Her tears fell freely now, her hands trembling as she clutched Karanveerâs arm.
Karanveer's eyes softened for a brief second, but he quickly shook his head. "Aaravi, donât do this to yourself again. He broke you once. You think standing in the rain will change that?"
Aaravi bit her lip, her chest aching. "I don't know," she whispered, "but I canât watch him suffer."
Karanveer clenched his fists, his heart aching as he watched his sister break down in front of him. He had sworn to protect her from every pain, every betrayal, but here she wasâsobbing, begging, breaking apart in front of his eyes.
He couldn't bear it. He couldn't see her like this again.
The memories of her sleepless nights, her silent cries, and the way she had withered away like a dying flower after everything happened with her. Now, seeing her like this again, it broke something in him. It haunted him. He had spent endless nights watching her retreat into herself, fall into the depths of despair, and he had felt utterly helpless.
Now, watching her plead for the very man who had caused all of it? It was unbearable.
"Aaraviâ" he started, his voice low, heavy with emotions he couldn't express.
But before he could say anything, she shook him desperately, her fingers gripping onto his shirt as if he was her only lifeline.
"Please, bhaiya," she sobbed, her voice barely above a whisper. "Bas yeh aakhri baar hai... usse bula lo. Uske baad hum kal unko bolenge idhar se jaane ke liye."
Her words shattered something inside him.
Aakhri baar.
Karanveer inhaled sharply, shutting his eyes for a brief moment. His mind screamed at him to refuse, to drag her away from this pain, to protect her from falling back into the same cycle.
But his heart... his heart couldn't ignore her tears.
With a deep sigh, he nodded, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "Theek hai, princess." His voice was reluctant, yet laced with the unconditional love of a brother.
Aaravi blinked at him in surprise, her lips trembling.
"But," Karanveer continued, his voice firm now, "yeh sach mein aakhri baar hoga."
Karanveer took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling heavily. Every fiber of his being resisted what he was about to do, but he couldn't ignore the desperation in Aaraviâs eyes.
"I'm doing this only for you, princess," he muttered, his voice firm yet laced with exhaustion.
Aaravi sniffled, nodding, her lips trembling as she whispered, "Thank...you...bhai."
Without another word, Karanveer grabbed an umbrella and walked towards the door. The storm outside mirrored the turmoil inside him, each raindrop pelting against the ground like tiny shards of ice. He stepped into the rain, the cold immediately biting through his clothes, but he didnât care. His only focus was the man kneeling in front of his penthouse, the man who had shattered his sister into pieces.
Nikshant was on his knees, his head bowed down, hands resting lifelessly on his lap. His body shivered violently under the relentless downpour, but he didn't move. It was as if he had resigned himself to this punishment, as if the cold and the rain were nothing compared to the storm inside his own heart.
Karanveer exhaled sharply and walked toward him, holding the umbrella over his drenched figure. The instant the rain stopped hitting his skin, Nikshant stirred.
Slowly, he lifted his head, his face pale, lips quivering from the cold. His dark, tired eyes locked onto Karanveerâs for a split second before they frantically searched beyond himâsearching for someone else.
And then, a single word escaped his lips in a broken whisper.
"Cherry."
Karanveerâs grip on the umbrella tightened. He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stay calm. He had expected this. Even in his most vulnerable state, Nikshantâs first thought was Aaravi. The very woman he had destroyed.
Karanveer took a slow, deep breath, pushing down his anger. His voice was cold, devoid of any emotion as he said, "Come inside because I donât want you to die in front of my penthouse."
Nikshant blinked, still disoriented, still searching for Aaravi. But Karanveer didn't wait for a response. He turned on his heel and walked back towards the house, leaving the choice to Nikshant.
Nikshant immediately stood up, his legs trembling from kneeling in the cold rain for too long. His entire body ached, but he didnât care. His priority was something elseâsomeone else.
Aaravi.
His Cherry.
His breathing was uneven as he forced his legs to move, his drenched clothes clinging to his skin uncomfortably. The moment he stepped inside Karanveer's penthouse, his sharp eyes began scanning the space, desperate to find her. His heart pounded violently against his ribcage with each step he took.
She was here. He could feel it.
His feet left wet footprints on the marble floor as he moved deeper inside. The penthouse was dimly lit, and the faint scent of sandalwood and lavender filled the air. His gaze darted around the space, searchingâhopingâbut she was nowhere to be seen.
Nikshant swallowed hard, his throat dry despite the rain that had soaked him to the bone. A part of him wanted to call out her name, but he knew Karanveer would not allow it.
His fists clenched. Where was she?
As if reading his mind, Karanveer scoffed. "Stop looking around. Sheâs not coming out to see you."
Nikshant turned his head sharply, his jaw tightening. His entire body was tense, ready to fight if needed, but he knew he couldnât. Not here. Not now.
Karanveer tossed a bundle of clothes onto the couch beside him. "Take these and freshen up. You're dirtying my penthouse." His voice was laced with irritation.
Nikshant looked down at himselfâhis black shirt and jeans were soaked, his hair dripping water onto the floor. He was shivering slightly, but he refused to acknowledge his own discomfort.
Karanveer crossed his arms and stared at him, unimpressed. "Come with me. I'll show you the guest room. For an unwanted guest."
Nikshant's jaw twitched, his pride stinging at the insult, but he said nothing. Arguing wouldnât help him see Aaravi. If anything, it would push her further away.
So, without a word, he picked up the clothes and followed Karanveer down the hallway, his heart still hammering in his chest.
Karanveer led Nikshant down the hallway, stopping in front of a room at the far end. The air between them was thick with unspoken resentment. Karanveer's posture was rigid, his face blank, but his eyes burned with clear hostility.
He pushed the door open and stepped aside, gesturing inside with a sharp nod. "This is your room," he stated flatly. "If you need anything⦠then donât disturb us."
Nikshant met his glare with equal intensity but remained silent. Arguing would do no good, not when he was barely allowed inside this house.
Without a word, he stepped in and shut the door behind him. The sound of the lock clicking into place echoed in the quiet room.
Nikshant exhaled, running a hand through his damp hair. His body was still trembling slightly from the cold rain, and exhaustion clung to him like a second skin. He turned toward the attached washroom, his steps slow but deliberate.
As soon as he locked the washroom door, he turned on the shower, letting warm water cascade over his tense body. The heat seeped into his frozen skin, soothing the aching muscles that had stiffened from kneeling in the rain for so long.
But it did nothing to ease the storm raging inside his chest.
His mind was consumed with thoughts of her.
Aaravi.
Was she fine? Was she sleeping? Did she even care that he was here?
After what felt like an eternity, he finally stepped out of the shower, drying himself off before changing into the clothes Karanveer had given him. They werenât his, but he didnât care.
His gaze instinctively swept across the room, taking in the minimalist furnishingsâa bed, a wardrobe, a small desk, and a tea table near the window. His eyes fell on the plate and cup resting on the table.
He frowned.
Had Karanveer brought this? Unlikely.
Then... Aaravi?
His heart gave an involuntary jolt at the thought.
Slowly, as if afraid the moment would disappear, he walked toward the table and picked up the cup. The aroma wafted through the air, familiar and soothing.
Herbal tea.
Nikshant brought the cup to his lips and took a slow sip. The warmth spread through him, but it wasnât the tea that comforted him.
It was the possibility.
Maybe, she still cared for him.