SAANVI'S POV

"Didn't I tell you... I'm leaving this country, not you?"

I turned away from the window, my gaze falling on Shaurya seated across the table.

The waiter quietly placed our order, two plates. My eyes drifted to the cheesecake. The same one we used to share at the university library. Sweetness always tasted softer when shared with him.

"I'm still your friend, Saanvi... right?" His voice was calm but carried a hint of uncertainty.

I looked up. "You're doubting, Shaurya?"

He sighed, sipping his drink, "You're making me."

I exhaled deeply, fingers curling around the fork.

"You have your life now, Shaurya. I can't keep calling you over for every... small inconvenience-"

"Inconvenience?" His voice cracked in disbelief. "You were hospitalized. And worse, I found out you were... taking drugs." He looked away as if the words scorched his tongue. "We've been friends since university, Saanvi. And I didn't even see it. Do you know how that feels? That all those moments we met, you were carrying pain in silence... hiding it."

"It's not your fault," I whispered. "I didn't let you see it."

"No," he murmured, his voice low with frustration. "It's because I respected your walls. I thought knocking too hard might scare you. I never realized... you were locked inside."

He reached for my hands gently. "Come back to New York with me, Saanvi."

My eyes snapped to his.

"There's nothing for you here but scars that reopen every morning. People who see your silence and still choose to misunderstand it. Come with me... You can breathe again. Work again. Live again."

"I can't, Shaurya,"

He frowned.

"You know the reason." I looked away.

"Your mother."

I nodded. "I promised her, Shaurya. That I would become a doctor and serve that hospital. Serenity isn't just a building. It's where her laughter still lingers in the corridors. She used to say Serenity wasn't just a hospital, it was a part of her soul. Her touch still lingers on the doorknobs. Every time I walk in, it feels like I'm walking into her arms. How can I walk away from the only place that makes me feel close to her?"

His grip on my hand tightened just a little.

"I can't go against you," he said with a soft smile.

I let out a breathy chuckle.

"Just don't push me away when you need someone. I'll come when you call. Even if I'm halfway across the world."

His words felt like warmth wrapped in ache. I smiled faintly, nodding.

"So," I asked, softening the mood, "how's life in New York? Found someone?"

He chuckled. "It's not easy, you know that."

My smile faltered slightly.

"Don't worry," he added between bites of cake, "I'm not going to pull some dramatic move or beg you to leave your marriage and run away with me."

"Shaurya."

He looked up.

"Move on."

His body stiffened. He placed the spoon down slowly.

"I'm just waiting for the day you fall in love, Saanvi..."

A quiet smile tugged at his lips, one of those smiles that hid more ache than comfort.

"And don't worry," he added, "I know it won't be me. I'm not here with expectations. I just... want someone to step into your world one day and show you what I've always believed, that you are so capable of being loved. Genuinely. Fully. Without conditions. Until that day comes, I'll stay... loving you from a distance. Just enough so you never feel like love forgot you. And when I see you fall for someone, truly fall, I'll walk away. I'll disappear so gently you won't even hear my footsteps." He smiled, eyes glinting with unspoken ache.

I squeezed my eyes shut. His words didn't just sting they settled.

Because this is the kind of love that should be chosen. The kind of heart that should be held gently by someone who sees the world in him the way he sees it in me. Not a woman carrying trust issues from a man who shattered her, not a girl still learning how to believe again.

Shaurya deserves arms that reach for him first, not ones that only cling when they're tired.

I can't let myself give in. Because loving him back just because it's safe... would be a cruelty he doesn't deserve. He deserves someone who chooses him not out of comfort or familiarity, but out of love. Pure, certain love. He deserves to be someone's first thought.

And I can't give him that, not in this life. Maybe... maybe in another.

Maybe in another life, I'd be the kind of woman who could love him back the way he deserves.

"You always make me forget that men can be heartless."

He laughed, and I chuckled too.

"I..." He paused.

I looked up "What happened?"

He stared into his coffee. "I have to leave, Saanvi. I came to India without informing the hospital. No formal leave, no heads-up."

"As you should," I shrugged casually, taking another bite of the cheesecake. "I thought your hospital finally threw you out."

He laughed.

"All thanks to Adrika aunty, she's the one who told me," Shaurya said, placing his spoon down. "By the way, you look genuinely happy with them."

A soft laugh escaped my lips as I nodded. "Believe me, I am. They've become my family in every sense. The best kind."

His eyes softened. "I'm really glad to hear that, Saanvi."

Then he shifted slightly in his seat. "By the way..." he began, and I glanced at him curiously.

"Falak bhabhi is coming back to India. From Houston, she heard about you."

My brows furrowed. "What? Why would she travel? She's pregnant... and didn't she have complications?"

He gave a small nod, "Exactly my thought. It's not ideal for her to be flying alone. Especially in her condition."

It's not safe for her to travel alone, especially in this condition. I pressed my lips together, trying to make sense of it. Why would she even think of coming back now?

She had gone to her parents house in Houston for a reason, because here, in India, there was no one to take care of her. That's why she and her husband decided to shift there in the first place. It made sense. It was the right decision.

And now suddenly she's returning? Just like that?

"She called me yesterday. Just after I landed," Shaurya said, watching my reaction. "Asked about everything... said she heard it all from Vikram."

I blinked. "She didn't call me."

He gave me a hesitant smile. "She said she couldn't. She feels guilty... and she asked me not to mention she's coming."

"Guilty?" I scoffed, shaking my head in disbelief. "But why? This was never her fault."

I leaned back in my chair, thoughts spiraling. Falak bhabhi, if there was anyone who had only ever welcomed me with warmth, it was her. She had always been the friendliest woman I'd known. The kind of person who smiled first and judged last.

How could I ever blame her?

After a while, we both stood up from our seats.

"You're paying," Shaurya said dabbing his mouth with a tissue.

I let out a scoff, grabbing my bag. "Oh please. I paid last time before you flew off to New York. This one's on you."

He followed behind me, shaking his head dramatically. "Unbelievable. You're such a miser, Saanvi."

I threw him a mock glare over my shoulder. "Let's not even start. You were once called the most chivalrous guy in university, what happened to all that gentleman behaviour, huh? Asking a woman to pay? Have some shame, Mr. Gentleman-"

"Thank you, sir," the cashier interrupted.

I turned to see Shaurya handing over his card with an exaggerated sigh, shooting me a mild glare the moment he caught me watching.

I grinned, slipping my arm through his. "Now that's more like it. Your future girlfriend is going to be very lucky."

He shook his head with a smile. "Stop buttering me."

I laughed, as we walked out together into the open air.

RUDRA'S POV

"Rudra," Abhimaan's voice rang sharply from the hallway, "for God's sake, the least you can do is open the door."

I blinked, pulling myself out of the thoughts I had been drowning in.

My gaze lingered on her photograph my thumb brushed over the glass once, slowly, before I placed the frame gently on the night stand.

When I stepped into the hallway, Abhimaan was still on a call, his eyes narrowed at me with clear annoyance. I didn't say a word. I exhaled, turned the handle, and opened the door.

"You?"

"Yes. Me,"

"What are you doing here, Shaurya?"

His gaze remained fixed. "I need to talk to you."

I let him in without a word. The door clicked shut behind me as I turned. Abhimaan had already ended his call and was watching us both.

"I'll give you two some space," he said, walking off.

Shaurya and I stood face to face in the hallway.

"Well?" I asked.

He tilted his head, letting out a short breath through his nose. "So that's it? You actually dismissed everything I said to you before leaving?"

I ran a hand down my face. "Shaurya, I don't have the patience for vague lectures. Say what you came to say and go."

He stepped forward suddenly, grabbing my collar, furiously. "You're so fucking insecure, Rudra. You destroyed her over something you assumed. You punished her because you thought I proposed to her?"

I jerked his hand off. "Don't touch me."

"You want the truth?" he snapped. "Fine. Yes. I proposed to Saanvi."

My fist curled. "Shut your fucking mouth."

"In university,"

My brows furrowed.

What?

"I proposed to her when we were in university. And she rejected me. Because she never had feelings for me. Never. And you?" His voice was full of contempt as he stepped closer. "You really believed I'd propose to her now? While she's married to you?" He pointed a finger at me. "God, your mindset is so fucking low. So insecure. So rotten."

"I trusted you with her," he continued, "Before I left, I asked you to protect her from that family of hers. And instead, you became the one who hurt her the most. You don't deserve her, Rudra."

I looked up sharply.

It's always the fucking male best friends.

"You don't get to decide that. So shut your fucking mouth."

He raised a brow. "No, I don't. But I see her. I know what she's endured. And if you had even an ounce of self-awareness, you'd be ashamed of what you've done."

His words slammed through me harder than his grip had earlier. I closed my eyes for a second.

"She's not just someone I love," he said, softer now. "She's my friend. A bond that's got nothing to do with romance. And after everything you've done... I hope, for her sake, that she never looks back at you."

I closed my eyes briefly, trying to suppress the heat building in my chest. I could feel my rage pressing against the walls of my ribs, tight and relentless.

"I wanted her to return to New York," he continued. "But she won't. Because of that hospital. Otherwise? She would've left. You'd have lost her completely."

He took a breath. "I came here to tell you just one thing: leave her alone. Let her heal. Let her live."

A faint, dry laugh escaped my throat. I shook my head slowly, the disbelief heavy in my voice. "And you really think I'd take advice from you?"

He stared at me, "Do you even regret what you did to her?"

"You don't matter enough for me to answer that."

He looked at me for a long beat, then exhaled. "You say you love her? Then prove it. Let her go."

"I'm not that selfless, Shaurya."

He stepped back, shaking his head in disbelief. "Then you're exactly what she doesn't need."

He brushed past me, shoulder knocking mine as he walked away.

The door clicked shut behind him.

I stood there, motionless.

I'm not selfless enough to let her go... not after what I've done.

And that's the truth, as ugly as it is. I don't get to stand on some moral high ground not after the way I let my insecurities get the better of me. I doubted her. I hurt her. I didn't trust the one person who only ever stood her ground with quiet dignity.

Now I sit here wondering, do I want to stay because I love her, or because I can't live with what I've become in her absence? Maybe it's both. Maybe guilt isn't a good enough reason to hold on... but walking away feels worse. Letting her go might be the right thing. But I'm not ready to be that man. Not yet.

It would also be easy. Too easy. It would mean walking away without ever taking responsibility for the damage I caused. And that's not love. That's an escape.

And maybe I don't deserve forgiveness. But I can't pretend I don't care. She was never the problem. I was. My fear, my inability to communicate, those were the real enemies.

But even so... I want to stay. Not because I expect forgiveness. Not because I believe I deserve her, I've known I didn't from the moment I met her. I just want her to know that the version of me who broke her isn't the only one that exists.

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