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A A R A V I

I felt disgusted when he said he loves me.

"Love happens unexpectedly, Nikshant ji, not when your wife was dying and that time you realized that you love your wife. Hypocrisy ki bhi hadd hoti hai, Nikshant ji," I said, my voice cold, unyielding.

( There is a limit to hypocrisy. )

He flinched, but his eyes held a different emotion—regret, desperation, longing. But I had seen enough of his emotions to know that they meant nothing to me anymore.

"You don't realize love when you are blinded with anger, but when your loved ones leave you, then you realize how important that person was to you. And I realized how important you are to me, Cherry," Nikshant ji said, his voice thick with something I refused to acknowledge.

I scoffed, shaking my head. "I don't have the patience to listen to your useless talk. And yeah, don't follow me," I said, turning on my heel, my heart hammering in my chest. I needed to get away from him before my resolve wavered.

"Hey, wait!" Nikshant ji's voice was urgent, and before I could step away, he came and stood in front of me, blocking my way. My eyes narrowed as I raised a brow, silently questioning his audacity.

Without a word, he pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket and extended it toward me. "Take it," he said.

I stared at the paper, hesitating. "What is this?"

"A letter," he said simply. "For you. Just read it once, please."

I clenched my fists. "I don’t need anything from you."

His shoulders dropped slightly, but he remained persistent. "Just this, Cherry. Just read it once and then do whatever you want."

I took the paper from his hand, my fingers curling around it for a moment. He watched me with hopeful eyes, as if this single sheet could erase the pain he had inflicted upon me.

And then, without a second thought, I threw it near the dustbin.

A sharp intake of breath sounded from behind me, but I didn't care. I refused to acknowledge him, refused to let him see the storm brewing inside me. Without sparing him a glance, I turned and walked away.

The sound of my footsteps echoed in the hallway, but his didn’t follow.

For a moment, the silence felt deafening.

Then—when I was finally alone—a sob escaped from my lips. My chest tightened as my vision blurred with unshed tears.

It hurts.

Damn it, it hurts so much.

I bit my lip, forcing myself to suppress the overwhelming emotions threatening to drown me. No, I wouldn’t let him see this side of me. I wouldn’t let him know that his presence still had the power to shatter me into pieces.

Taking a deep breath, I walked towards the kitchen, my sanctuary, the only place where I could silence my thoughts.

The moment I stepped in, I tied my hair back and set to work. The rhythmic chopping of vegetables, the simmering of spices, and the warmth of the stove—they were my escape, the only thing that could ground me when my emotions spiraled out of control.