You Belong With Me

Guilt gnawed at Vanshika's insides as she absorbed Sourav's words. She hadn't known the depth of his sacrifice, yet she had dared to question his love. If only Rahul had been privy to all this, he would have readily given his life for Sourav.

"I'm so sorry you had to endure all this. It must have been unimaginably tough for you," Vanshika said, her voice heavy with regret.

"It was, definitely. But as long as Rahul was shielded from this dirty politics, I was content," Sourav replied, his eyes reflecting the weight of his experiences.

How could someone be so selfless, so devoted? Vanshika wondered. Sourav was undoubtedly the hero of their story, sacrificing everything to shield his beloved from harm. She couldn't help but feel an overwhelming surge of pride for Rahul, for despite everything, he didn't harbor any resentment towards Sourav. He still waited for him, trusting him implicitly.

"This was tough, but what was even tougher was leaving Rahul. I gave him every reason to hate me, I hurt him emotionally, I broke his heart," Sourav confessed, his voice laced with sorrow.

Vanshika felt a lump form in her throat as she listened to Sourav's words. She couldn't begin to fathom the pain he must have endured, the sacrifices he had made for their sake. With each passing moment, her admiration for him grew, and she couldn't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude for having him in their lives.

Flashback

As Sourav relinquished the captaincy to Rahul, a somber curtain seemed to fall between them. Sourav, once Rahul's confidant, now seemed to be slipping away, almost as if he had vanished into thin air. During the India-Pakistan series, Sourav kept his distance from Rahul. Their conversations became rare, their interactions reduced to mere formalities. It wasn't as if Sourav didn't care; on the contrary, he cared too much. He knew all too well the weight of captaincy. He understood the avalanche of responsibilities that would now consume Rahul's time, leaving him with hardly a moment to spare to inquire after Sourav.

The rift widened during the Australia series. Sourav fabricated a story about his mother's health, a lie that stabbed at Rahul's heart. But Sourav was resolute; this was just the beginning. He had a plan, a meticulous one. He was going to become the antagonist in Rahul's story, the villain who would eventually make Rahul stop loving him.

After the exhausting Australia series, when Team India finally returned home, Sourav found himself in a hotel room, his mind swirling with thoughts. He decided it was time to make his first move. He needed to talk to Sachin before executing his plan. He called Sachin and asked him to come to his room.

As Sachin entered Sourav's room, he was taken aback by the chaos that greeted him. Broken glasses littered the floor, papers were burnt, and things were thrown haphazardly around the room. It was as if Sourav had unleashed a storm of destruction upon his own space. Feeling a pang of panic, Sachin cautiously made his way to the bedroom.

Sourav sat slumped on the ground, a bottle of alcohol dangling from his hand, two more lying empty beside him. His once-neat hair was now disheveled, his clothes wrinkled and stained. He was in a bad state, clearly intoxicated and high, tears streaming down his face, eyes bloodshot and vacant. He was completely out of it.

Sachin sprinted towards him, his heart racing as he reached out and gently guided Sourav to sit on the bed, carefully taking the bottle of liquor from his grasp.

"What have you done to yourself, Dadi?" Sachin's voice was filled with shock and concern.

"S-Sach...chin!" Sourav's words were barely intelligible, slurred and mumbled.

"Yes, Sourav, I'm here. Look at me," Sachin said firmly, holding Sourav's face in his hands.

Sourav's voice trembled as he spoke, tears streaming down his cheeks unchecked, his entire body wracked with sobs. "It's... it's hurting so much, Sachin," he managed to choke out between gasps for air. "I thought... I thought maybe... maybe if I downed two - three bottles, the pain would go away, you know? But it's still here, gnawing at me from the inside."

Sachin felt his heart sink at the sight of his friend in such distress. He wished he could take away all of Sourav's pain and make everything better, but he knew it wasn't that simple. Gently, he wrapped his arm around Sourav's shoulder, offering what little comfort he could in that moment.

He buried his face in his hands, his fingers trembling as they clutched at his hair, as if trying to physically pull the anguish from his mind. His voice quivered as he spoke, choked with emotion.

"I can't do this, Sachin," he said, his words muffled by his hands. "I feel so... weak. This isn't me. What's happening to me?" He winced, his head throbbing with a pain so intense it felt like it might burst. "God!" he cried out, as if appealing to some higher power for relief. "And these stupid tears won't stop," he muttered, swiping at his cheeks roughly.

"Is loving someone this wrong? This criminal?" His voice cracked with despair. "Everyone else is allowed to love whoever they want, so why not me?" He paused, his chest heaving with emotion. "My mother, she's always been so devoted to the gods, and she's always encouraged me to do the same. But what do I get in return? Heartbreaks? Why is destiny so cruel to me? And if Rahul wasn't meant to be in my life, then why the hell did it make me fall in love with him?"

"I... I want to die," he whispered hoarsely, his voice barely audible over the tumult of his emotions. "I wish... I wish I could just jump off a building. It feels like everything is slipping through my fingers. My cricket... it's been taken away from me," he said, his voice breaking. "I could have borne that, but to have my love... my Rahul taken away from me too... I just..."

His words shattered into broken sobs, the weight of his grief crashing down upon him like a tidal wave. With a heavy, anguished cry, he crumpled to the floor, his body convulsing with each sob. Tears streamed down his cheeks, each one a testament to the pain that threatened to consume him whole. It was as if a dam had burst, and now his tears flowed freely, unstoppable, as if they carried the weight of his sorrow and loss.

Sachin wrapped his arms tightly around Sourav, feeling the weight of his best friend's brokenness. It was unbearable to witness Sourav, the epitome of strength, reduced to such a fragile state. Anger simmered within Sachin, directed towards Mukesh, the one responsible for this heinous act.

"Calm down, Sourav," Sachin whispered, his voice a soothing balm. "I'm here for you. Cry as much as you need to. It's okay."

Gently, he stroked Sourav's hair, feeling the tremors wrack his friend's body. Each touch was meant to convey a silent promise - a promise of unwavering support, a promise to shoulder Sourav's pain as if it were his own.

In the quiet of the room, Sachin held Sourav close, offering him the solace he so desperately needed. The weight of their friendship, forged through years of shared laughter and tears, was Sachin's anchor in this storm. And he was determined to weather it, no matter how ferocious it raged.