Chapter 21: The Past That Won't Die

Abeer's entire body was tense.

He stood near the window, his fingers gripping a whiskey glass, his back turned to her.

Silent.

Too silent.

The air between them was thick. Heavy.

And Diya knew why.

She knew exactly what was going through Abeer Rathore's mind.

He was furious.

Not because Tara was alive.

Not because they had been lied to.

But because Diya's past was standing in his world.

And Abeer?

Abeer did not share.

Diya exhaled sharply. "Abeer—"

"How long were you engaged to him?"

His voice was calm. Controlled.

But Diya wasn't stupid.

There was violence lurking underneath.

She hesitated. "It was—"

"How long, jaan?"

Diya swallowed. "Two years."

The whiskey glass shattered in his hand.

She flinched.

Abeer didn't even move.

The broken glass dug into his palm, blood dripping onto the floor.

But he felt nothing.

Diya rushed toward him. "Abeer, your hand—"

He grabbed her wrist.

Tight. Unyielding.

And when he turned to her—his eyes burned with something raw. Dangerous.

"Two years," he murmured.

His grip tightened.

"You were supposed to be mine, Diya," he whispered. "And yet, for two years, you belonged to someone else."

Diya's breath hitched.

She had seen Abeer angry before.

But this?

This was pure, dark possessiveness.

And it should have scared her.

But instead...

Her heart raced.

Because God help her, she liked it.

Diya yanked her wrist free.

"Stop it, Abeer," she snapped. "You don't own me!"

Abeer chuckled darkly.

"Don't I?"

His fingers brushed her neck.

And she knew he was thinking about the bruises he had left there.

The marks of last night.

The proof that she had surrendered to him.

Diya swallowed hard.

"You're not angry about Aarav," she whispered. "You're angry because for the first time—there was a part of me you never owned."

Abeer's jaw ticked.

"You think I care about your past?" he murmured.

His fingers slid down her waist, slow and possessive.

"You belong to me now, jaan," he whispered.

His lips brushed her ear.

"And if your ex doesn't understand that..."

His grip tightened.

"I'll make him understand."

Diya's stomach twisted.

"You can't hurt him."

Abeer smirked. "Watch me."

Diya stepped back.

"Abeer—"

"You think I don't see what's happening here?" he interrupted, his voice low and sharp.

"You think it's a coincidence that he's with Tara?"

Diya froze.

A chill ran down her spine.

"He's here for a reason, jaan," Abeer murmured.

"And I promise you—it's not love."

Diya sat in the backseat of Abeer's car, her heart pounding.

She shouldn't be here.

She shouldn't be doing this.

But if Aarav had answers—she needed to know.

Abeer sat beside her, silent. Watching.

And in front of them—

Was the man she once thought she would marry.

Aarav Mehta.

He looked the same.

Dark hair, sharp features, the same calm smile she used to trust.

But now?

Something was different.

Something in his eyes.

Like he was looking at her as a possession he had lost.

"Diya," he said softly.

And just like that—the past slammed into her.

Memories of a life she had left behind.

A life that no longer fit.

Diya exhaled sharply.

"Tell me the truth, Aarav," she said.

"How did you get here?"

Aarav's smile didn't change.

But his next words?

They shook her to the core.

"I followed you."

Diya stared.

The world tilted.

"You—what?"

Aarav leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table.

"You disappeared, Diya," he murmured. "One day, you were there. The next, you weren't."

His fingers tapped against the surface.

"So I did what anyone would do."

He smiled.

"I found a way to bring you back."

Diya's stomach twisted.

Abeer was silent beside her.

But she could feel it.

The shift in the air.

The danger.

Abeer wasn't just watching.

He was calculating.

Planning how to kill Aarav.

Diya's throat tightened.

"You're lying," she whispered.

Aarav's smile widened.

"Am I?"

He leaned closer.

"Tell me, sweetheart."

His voice dropped.

"Has anything in this world ever felt... unreal to you?"

Diya's breath hitched.

Because yes.

Yes, it had.

Too many times.

Aarav smirked.

"That's because none of this is real, Diya."

A pause.

And then—

A whisper that shattered everything.

"This world isn't a book."

His fingers brushed hers.

"It's a prison."