They should have known it couldn't last.They should have known the world was watching.
For two days, Ananya and Riyan had stolen something priceless—a cocoon of warmth and fire, away from stares, away from questions. They had lived in the lie that nobody could see through their closeness, their stolen glances, the way her steps always slowed when he was near.
But gossip was a predator. It lurked in whispers and shadows until it finally devoured.
The first sign came when Ananya entered the lecture hall. The air was wrong—too still, too loaded. Every pair of eyes slid toward her, lingered too long, and then broke into murmurs that spider-webbed across the room. Her stomach twisted before she even reached her seat.
"Did you hear?" someone hissed, just loud enough."They stayed together. Overnight.""More than once.""She's got him wrapped around her finger. Poor Aarav—"
Ananya's pen slipped from her hand, clattering against the desk. Her heart thudded against her ribs. She wanted to turn, to scream, to demand they stop—but shame rooted her to the chair.
And then Aarav walked in.
He stopped mid-stride, freezing as he caught the way every gaze flicked from Ananya to him, then toward the back where Riyan had just entered. The silence that followed was cruel, charged like a fuse waiting for a spark.
"Tell me it isn't true," Aarav's voice cut across the lecture hall before the professor even arrived. His eyes, usually soft with unspoken affection, were glass now—cold, sharp, brittle. He was staring directly at Ananya.
Her lips parted, but nothing came. How could she deny what was written all over her flushed skin, her trembling silence?
Riyan's chair scraped loudly as he stood. "That's enough." His tone was iron. "Don't drag her into your gossip."
The words only made it worse. The class erupted, voices layering like knives—"So it's true!""Knew it.""She played Aarav like a fool.""Of course Riyan would take what he wants."
Aarav's fists clenched at his sides, shoulders rigid. "Answer me, Ananya," he demanded, his voice cracking now, pain leaking through the fury. "Is this what you've been hiding from me?"
Her throat burned. She wanted to say no, to protect him, to protect herself—but Riyan stepped closer, placing himself between them. And that was her undoing.
The room roared at the gesture. Whispers turned to shouts, phones lifted to record, every eye greedy for the spectacle.
"Riyan." Aarav's voice was a low growl. "Move."
"Not happening," Riyan shot back, jaw tight, his presence a shield she hadn't asked for but desperately clung to.
The confrontation exploded. Aarav lunged forward, shoving Riyan, and chaos surged as desks scraped and students scattered. The clash was raw—jealousy against defiance, heartbreak against arrogance.
Ananya stumbled backward, her breath shallow, tears stinging her vision. "Stop it! Please, stop!" But her voice drowned under the swell of shouts.
And then—The door slammed open.
"Enough!"
Her father's voice. Deep. Commanding. Terrifying.
Ananya's blood froze. He wasn't supposed to be here. He wasn't supposed to know. Yet there he stood, framed in the doorway, eyes dark with disappointment sharp enough to cut. Beside him, Riyan's uncle—the one who paid for half the university's funding—his expression unreadable, but deadly quiet.
The entire class fell silent, fear prickling the air. Phones lowered. Whispers died.
Ananya couldn't breathe. Her father's stare locked onto her, not Riyan, not Aarav—her. And in that gaze she saw the ruin of everything: her family's trust, her reputation, the fragile piece of freedom she'd dared to taste.
"Home. Now." His voice cracked like a whip.
Her knees nearly buckled.
Riyan stepped forward, defiant even in the face of authority. "This isn't her fault—"
"Silence!" her father thundered, the sound vibrating through the walls. "You've disgraced my daughter enough."
The words hit harder than any slap. Ananya's vision blurred as shame, fear, and heartbreak collapsed into one unbearable weight.
The bubble had burst. Their secret was no longer theirs.
She wanted to scream. She wanted to run into Riyan's arms and never let go. She wanted to vanish from every pair of eyes that pierced her skin like needles.
But instead, she moved when her father commanded, her feet dragging toward the door, every step pulling her farther from the fragile haven she had built with Riyan.
Behind her, she heard Aarav's ragged breathing, Riyan's furious silence, and the whispers of a hundred witnesses who would carry this story farther than she could ever run.
The ruin was complete.