Ranjish

author pov...

It's impressive when someone comes into your life who you didn't expect anything from, but suddenly, everything you need is right in front of you.🦢🤍

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The tension in the room was so thick it felt like breathing through smoke. Voices had been raised, blame tossed around like shards of glass—sharp, cutting, and careless.

Then Kanak's voice sliced through the chaos.

"If you both are done fighting," she snapped, her voice trembling with frustration, "please leave. I'm already tired enough. Don't add to my miseries."

Silence followed her words, heavy and awkward.

Sagar's expression shifted. The guilt hit him like a wave, and his tone softened instantly. "I'm sorry, Kanak," he said quietly, stepping toward her. "Let me take you to your room."

Kanak didn't even look at him. "No, thanks," she replied coldly, brushing past him. "I'll go myself."

She walked away with her head held high, but the pain in her steps didn't go unnoticed.

Vikram turned on Sagar, his eyes blazing. "See what you've done?" he yelled. "She's already hurt—and you just made it worse!"

Sagar stood there, speechless. The door to Kanak's room shut behind her with a soft click that echoed louder than any of their shouting.

In the days that followed, Kanak couldn't help but notice something strange—something subtle, yet unmistakable.

Vikram's behavior had shifted.

It wasn't dramatic. He still walked with the same confident stride, still spoke with that calm authority. But there was a softness now, a carefulness in the way he addressed her. Where he used to speak curtly or with indifference, now he often called her Kanak ji—a formality he hadn't used before.

At first, Kanak thought she was imagining it. But the pattern became clear.. If their paths crossed, he'd look away quickly, or pretend to be preoccupied with something else. Something was off.

One evening, as the sun dipped behind the garden walls and long shadows stretched across the veranda, Kanak finally asked him.

"Do you... know me?" she said quietly, searching his face. "Do you remember something?"

For a moment, his entire body froze.

His face paled, just slightly—but enough for her to catch it.

Then, just as quickly, he recovered. A half-smile touched his lips, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"What will I remember?" he said, almost too casually. "Who are you, if not Kanak? What strange questions you're asking."

He turned without waiting for her reply and walked off toward the garden, hands in his pockets, eyes fixed on the path ahead.

Kanak stood still, her heart thudding. That flicker in his eyes—it wasn't confusion.

It was fear.

Kanak's doubts about Vikram's memory lingered as they sat down to dinner. She couldn't shake off the feeling that he was hiding something.

Just as they were eating, Sagar entered the room, papers in hand. "You need to sign these papers," he said, his tone matter-of-fact.

Kanak's eyes narrowed, wondering what kind of papers Sagar was talking about. Vikram's expression was unreadable, but Kanak sensed a flicker of tension in his body."What papers?" Kanak asked, her curiosity piqued