And then he changed...?

### **Present Day — Bangalore, 2023**

Arjun stood shirtless in the kitchen, trying to figure out the ancient gas stove in Aisha’s rented flat. His hair was messy, his kurta half-buttoned. Aisha walked out of the bedroom in his oversized tee.

“You’re trying to make eggs,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“I *am* making eggs,” he replied confidently, though the pan sizzled in protest.

She walked behind him, snaking her arms around his waist. “This is very domestic of you. So husband-like.”

He smirked. “Should I start calling you *patni ji*?”

“Shut up,” she laughed, resting her head on his back. “This morning feels unreal.”

Last night had changed something.

It wasn’t just the **kisses**, the **skin**, the tangled sheets, or the soft gasps in the dark.

It was how he had held her afterward — like he didn’t know how to let go.

---

### **Past Timeline — November 2020, Mumbai**

The days were mechanical now.

Wake up. Check Slack. Respond to emails. Attend Zoom meetings with a fake smile and a shirt over boxers. Log off. Smoke alone on the balcony.

Rinse. Repeat.

Rahul called one night.

“Let’s go out,” he said. “Just chai. You need people.”

“I have you,” Arjun said quietly.

“Exactly,” Rahul snapped. “And I’m tired of watching you rot.”

They met at a tea stall near **Bandra Reclamation**. Sea breeze. Filter chai. Cheap biscuits.

Rahul looked tired. “It’s been a year, bhai. Move on.”

“You don’t understand—”

“I *do*, Arjun. I was maybe not there when she left, but I saw you break, and you’re still standing in that wreckage like it’s home.”

Arjun stayed silent.

Rahul stared at him. “You want the truth? You didn’t just lose her. You lost yourself.”

Arjun lit a cigarette with shaking hands.

Maybe Rahul was right.

---

### **Present Day — Aisha’s Bedroom, Morning**

They lay in bed, tangled in a quiet mess of sheets and laughter.

Aisha traced a scar near his collarbone. “Bike accident?”

He nodded. “Long ago.”

“You never told me about it.”

He hesitated. “Some things I try not to remember.”

She looked at him, expression softening. “You can tell me anything, Arjun.”

He smiled. “I know.”

But deep inside, a voice whispered — *no, she can’t handle all of it.*

He kissed her before she could ask more.

---

### **Past Timeline — December 2020**

He went on a date.

**Rhea** —  Just a girl from a dating app. She worked in HRI, like stand-up comedy, and wore too much perfume.

They met at a rooftop café near **Juhu Beach**.

She was sweet. Funny. I asked him about his playlist and laughed at his sarcasm.

But halfway through dessert, she leaned forward and said, “You seem... distant.”

He blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean... you smile, but your eyes don’t.”

He tried to respond. He really did.

But something in him snapped.

He stood up. “I’m sorry.”

“Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” he said, already walking away.

He drove home that night, pulled over, and screamed into his steering wheel until his throat burned.

It wasn’t her fault.

It was the ghost of someone else.

Still living in him.

---

### **Present Day — A Week Later**

They went dancing.

Aisha dragged him to a club near **Church Street** — loud music, neon lights, and sweaty strangers moving like no one was watching.

Arjun wasn’t a dancer.

But for once, he let go.

They danced like they were drunk on each other. Her laughter rang out over the beat. His hands found her waist like they belonged there.

Later, in a cab back to her place, her hand was on his thigh. His lips were on her neck.

The moment they stepped inside the flat, their mouths crashed together like they’d waited years.

Clothes fell like petals. Kisses deepened like secrets. They explored each other like a language finally spoken.

And for once, Arjun didn’t think of anyone else.

Not even her.

Just Aisha.

Only Aisha.

---

### **Past Timeline — January 2021**

He didn’t cry anymore.

He didn't feel much at all.

One night, at 3 a.m., he found himself at the foot of his parents' bed, clutching an old diary, unable to breathe.

His mother woke up in a panic. “Arjun?”

He collapsed into her lap like a broken child.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he whispered.

She stroked his hair. Said nothing.

Sometimes, that was all you needed.

Silence. Arms. Home.

---

### **Present Day — Bangalore**

Aisha watched him as he slept.

There was something so peaceful about his face when he wasn’t awake — like the battles he fought inside had pressed pause.

She leaned forward and kissed his forehead.

“You’re mine now,” she whispered.

But Arjun stirred, eyes fluttering — and just for a moment, there was a flash of something dark in his gaze.

A flicker of grief that didn’t belong to her.