47

Advik's POV;

I was in the middle of my last meeting when my phone buzzed. It was Ria. Her voice, usually so steady, was now trembling. "I hate you," she said, her words slicing through me like a knife. This morning, everything had been fine. What happened to her?

I could hear her sobbing on the other end. My heart ached with every tear she shed. Without a second thought, I canceled the meeting and rushed to my car. I needed to be with her, to hold her, to understand what had gone so horribly wrong. I had to make sure she didn't reach Vishant. Or I don't know if she has already done it. Despite my threats, I feared he might reveal everything.

The drive to the mansion felt like an eternity. An unsettling dread gnawed at my insides. As soon as I arrived, I sprinted to her room. The silence was suffocating. I knocked on her door, but there was no response. My heart pounded as I pushed it open, only to find the room empty.

I stepped onto the balcony, desperately trying to call her, but her phone was out of reach. Panic surged through me. I turned back into the room and noticed her diary on the bed, open as if she had been writing in it. I picked it up and read the latest entry. It was about me. My eyes moistened as I read her confession of love.

Why did she say she hated me on the call?

Something was terribly wrong.

I called for the maids and guards. "Where is she?" I demanded.

One of the guards stepped forward, his voice trembling due to my cold exterior, "She left in the car."

"When?"

"About an hour ago."

"Didn't I instruct you not to let her leave the mansion?" I glared at him, and he gulped.

"We tried, sir. But she insisted it was important."

I closed my eyes, frustration boiling inside me. Taking a deep breath, I pulled out my phone and dialed Ayan's number with trembling fingers.

"Ayan, I need your help. Ria's missing and she's not picking up the calls. Find her," I pleaded, pacing back and forth, my voice cracking.

"Since when?" he asked, his tone calm.

"It's been an hour," I replied, trying to keep my composure as I ran a hand through my hair.

"It's just an hour," he said, attempting to reassure me.

"Ayan. Do as I say. Check everywhere. Every road, every... hospital," I demanded, my desperation seeping through as I gripped the phone tighter.

"Okay," he agreed, sensing the urgency.

I hung up and rushed to my car, my heart pounding. She couldn't have gone too far. I had to find her. I drove through the city, my eyes scanning every street, every corner. Two hours passed, and still no sign of her. My phone rang, and Ayan's name flashed on the screen.

"Advik, I sent you the hospital address," he said, his voice heavy with concern.

My heart sank hearing his voice.

No.

I can't lose her again.

===================

The hospital corridor was quiet, save for the soft hum of fluorescent lights and the distant murmur of nurses passing by. I stood outside Room 305, my gaze fixed on the closed door where Ria lay battling her demons within.

Memories of our time together flashed before my eyes—her laughter ringing in my ears as we talked about our dreams and fears. But now, all I could do was wait—wait for the storm inside her mind to pass, wait for her to return to me.

I had seen it happen before, the sudden onset of seizures that stole her away into a world I couldn't reach. Each time, I felt powerless, a bystander to her pain and confusion.

The door opened, and the doctor walked out. I rushed to him, my heart in my throat. "Doctor, how is she?" I asked, my voice trembling.

He shook his head, his expression grave. "We can't say anything now. She has lost a lot of blood. Before the accident, she had a seizure. Her brain is in a dangerous situation. Things are too risky."

He left, and I stood frozen in place, the weight of his words crushing me. Ayan squeezed my shoulder, trying to console me. "Don't worry. She's strong. She will fight back."

A tear slipped from my eye, and I closed them, nodding my head. I have to be strong. Nothing will happen to her. She will come back to me.

She has to come back.

But what if she doesn't? What if she forgets you again? My brain whispered cruelly.

Then, I will start over again. But I won't let her go this time.

"Ayan, find out how this happened. I want the person who did this, in front of me," I seethed, my voice trembling with rage. Anger blurred my vision, and my mind was consumed by thoughts of revenge. I won't spare the person responsible for this. And if I find out this started with Vishant, I swear, I'll kill him.

Ayan handed me her belongings, which the police had retrieved from the car. Among them was her phone, damaged and lifeless. "The truck hit her car," he explained, his voice heavy with concern.

I stared at the shattered phone, my heart aching. "Get this repaired," I ordered, my voice barely above a whisper. He nodded and left, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

Maybe there was something on her phone that could explain why this happened. Some clue, some message that would make sense of this nightmare.

I leaned against the wall, my legs feeling weak.

I couldn't lose her. Not again.

My phone rang, jolting me from my thoughts. I picked it up, my hands shaking.

"Hello? Vicky?" My father's voice came through the phone, making me close my eyes.

The familiar sound brought a lump to my throat. "Dad, I... I lost her again," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

"Vicky? I heard what happened. Look, Son, nothing will happen to Ria. She will be fine. Take care of yourself. I will reach there soon," he said, trying to sound reassuring, but the stress in his voice betrayed him. It was all a lie.

I knew the truth. Things had happened. I lost her again.

Hanging up the call, I stared at the door, feeling the weight of the world pressing down on me, almost crushing me like it did 5 years ago. The silence of the hospital corridor was scary, each second stretching into an eternity.

My heart ached with a pain so deep it felt like it would never heal.

The minutes stretched into hours, the ticking of the clock echoing in the quiet hallway. I paced restlessly, my fingers tapping against my thigh in a futile attempt to calm my nerves. I wanted to burst through the door, to hold her close and whisper reassurances into her ear.

But I knew better. She needed space, needed the doctors to work their magic and bring her back to me.

So, I waited with my mind a whirlwind of memories-of our first meeting, of the moments we shared, and the promises we made to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the door creaked open, and a weary-faced nurse stepped out, a small smile tugging at her lips. "She's stable now," she said softly, her voice giving me relief.

Thank God.

With a grateful nod, I stepped into the room. There she lay, pale and vulnerable yet still beautiful. Quietly, I pulled up a chair beside her bed, taking her hand in mine, feeling the faint pulse of her heartbeat against my palm.

"I'm here, Cheriè," I murmured, my voice breaking with emotion. "I'm right here."

I put my head on her hand and closed my eyes.

Hours passed. The morning light peeked through the curtains, casting a soft glow in the room. I watched as she slowly opened her eyes, my heart pounding in my chest.

Would she remember me this time?

I stared at her, holding my breath. She squinted against the bright light, then opened her eyes again, adjusting to the room. Her brown eyes met mine, and my breath hitched.

I gulped, waiting for her to say something, anything. But she just stared at me, her expression blank. My heart skipped a beat, a cold dread settling in my stomach. She didn't say anything.

I got my answer.

History repeated itself.

She had forgotten me again.

I siged and bit my lips, looking away from her and pulling my hands away slowly.

It's better if I just leave from here. I didn't have the courage to answer her, 'Who are you' question. I will break down if she asks me that again.

I cleared my throat and stood up to leave, the weight of her silence pressing down on me. As I turned to walk away, I felt a gentle tug on my wrist. I halted, my heart skipping a beat, and looked back at her.

Her brown eyes were still fixed on me, filled with an emotion I couldn't decipher. "Water," she murmured, her voice barely audible.

I hastily poured water into a glass and brought it to her lips. She stared at me, her gaze unwavering, but drank anyway. I settled the glass on the table, my eyes never leaving her face. She continued to stare at me, and I was dying to know what was going on in her mind.

Why is she looking at me like I'm a stranger?

Gently, I brought my hand to her cheek, brushing away the strands of hair that had fallen across her face. As my fingers touched her skin, she yanked my hand, her eyes flashing with a sudden anger.

"Stay away," she said, her voice firm.

I stared at her processing her words.

Stay away.

A person only says these words when the other one is a stranger.

The lump formed in my throat grew as I looked at her.

So this was it.

That's how it ended.

For the second time.

I lost her again.

I wiped my tears and stood up to go away.

Far away from her life.

Before I could go, she held my hand again. I looked at our hand, and then at her, who still wore an angry look.

"Where do you think you are going, Mr. Rude?"