The night didn't stay peaceful for long.
Because some people—
don't leave quietly.
Meher had changed—
now sitting on the bed—
still a little weak—
but awake.
Aarav was near the window—
on another call.
His tone—
controlled.
"Tumhe samajh nahi aaya kya?" he said sharply.
(Didn't you understand?)
A pause.
"Don't come here again."
Meher's eyes lifted slowly.
She didn't need to ask.
She knew.
The same girl.
Her fingers tightened around the bedsheet.
"Yeh last warning hai," Aarav added.
(This is the last warning.)
He cut the call.
Silence filled the room.
"Aarav…" Meher said softly.
He turned immediately.
"Haan?"
She hesitated.
"Woh… kaun thi exactly?"
(Who was she exactly?)
Aarav didn't answer instantly.
He walked closer—
slowly.
"Past," he said again.
She frowned slightly.
"Kitna past?"
(How much of a past?)
A pause.
"Important?" she added quietly.
That question—
carried more than just curiosity.
Aarav noticed.
And for the first time—
he didn't brush it off.
He sat beside her.
"Tha," he said simply.
(It was.)
Her heart dropped slightly.
"Tha?" she repeated.
He nodded.
"Ab nahi hai."
(Not anymore.)
She looked away.
"Par woh aise behave kar rahi thi jaise…" she stopped.
"Jaise?" he asked.
"Jaise tum abhi bhi…"
She didn't finish.
Didn't need to.
Aarav leaned slightly forward.
"Main nahi hoon."
(I'm not.)
His voice—
firm.
"Clear enough?"
She nodded slowly.
But something still lingered.
"Phir woh yahan kyun aayi?" she asked softly.
(Then why did she come here?)
Aarav's jaw tightened.
"Because she doesn't know when to stop."
A pause.
"But I do."
That line—
was meant for her.
Meher looked at him again.
"And you stopped?" she asked.
He didn't hesitate.
"Us din… jab tum meri life mein aayi."
(The day you came into my life.)
Silence.
That answer—
hit deeper than expected.
But before the moment could settle—
a message popped on his phone.
Aarav glanced at it—
and his expression changed.
"What happened?" Meher asked immediately.
He didn't reply.
Just showed her the screen.
A message.
"You can't ignore me forever. I'm not done yet."
Meher's breath caught.
Aarav's eyes darkened.
"Bas…" he muttered.
(Enough…)
He stood up instantly—
his tone shifting again.
This time—
dangerous.
"Ab main handle karta hoon."
(Now I'll handle this.)
Meher grabbed his hand quickly.
"Aarav—"
He stopped.
She looked at him—
a little scared.
"Please… gussa mat ho itna."
(Please don't get so angry.)
A pause.
His expression softened slightly.
"Tumhe koi problem nahi hogi," he said quietly.
(Nothing will happen to you.)
"But is baar…"
His eyes darkened again.
"…main clearly end karunga."
(This time, I'll end it clearly.)
Meher didn't reply.
But her grip on his hand—
didn't loosen.
Because now—
it wasn't just jealousy.
It was something bigger.
A past—
that refused to stay behind.The air felt different now.
Heavy.
Uncertain.
Aarav had stepped out—
"just for a few minutes."
That's what he said.
But minutes—
felt longer when your mind wasn't calm.
Meher sat on the bed—
staring at her phone.
Her fingers restless.
That message—
still in her head.
"I'm not done yet."
A small knock broke the silence.
She looked toward the door.
"Kaun?"
No response.
Another knock.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Carefully—
she stood up—
moving toward the door.
And when she opened it—
her breath hitched.
The same woman.
Standing there.
Confident.
Calm.
"Hi," she said softly.
Meher didn't reply immediately.
"What do you want?" she asked instead.
The woman smiled slightly.
"Bas… sach batana."
(Just to tell the truth.)
Meher frowned.
"Kaunsa sach?"
(Which truth?)
The woman stepped closer—
just a little.
"Aarav ke baare mein."
(About Aarav.)
Something inside Meher tightened.
"Jo bhi kehna hai… seedha bolo," she said.
(Whatever you want to say… say it clearly.)
The woman tilted her head slightly.
"He didn't tell you?"
Meher's heart skipped.
"Kya?"
A pause.
Then—
very calmly—
"He still meets me."
Silence.
Meher stared at her.
"What?"
The woman shrugged lightly.
"Of course… he won't tell you that."
"No," Meher said instantly,
"that's not true."
The woman smiled again.
"Really?"
She pulled out her phone—
showing something.
A picture.
Aarav.
With her.
Standing close.
Meher's breath caught.
"When?" she whispered.
"Recent enough," the woman replied smoothly.
Her voice calm—
but calculated.
"He just doesn't know how to let go," she added.
That line—
cut deeper.
Meher stepped back slightly.
"No… he wouldn't…"
"Wouldn't what?" the woman interrupted softly.
"Lie?"
Silence.
Because doubt—
had already entered.
"I'm just helping you," the woman said.
"Before you get hurt more."
Then—
she turned.
And left.
Just like that.
The door remained open.
Meher stood there—
frozen.
Her heart racing.
Her mind—
spinning.
Because what she saw—
felt real.
And what she believed—
suddenly didn't feel enough.
A few minutes later—
Aarav returned.
"Meher—"
He stopped.
Because something was wrong.
She wasn't looking at him.
Not the same way.
"What happened?" he asked immediately.
Silence.
"Meher…"
She finally looked up.
Her eyes—
hurt.
"Sach bataoge?" she asked quietly.
(Will you tell the truth?)
Aarav frowned.
"Kis baare mein?"
(About what?)
She held up her phone.
That picture.
Aarav's expression changed instantly.
"Yeh—"
"Bas haan ya na," she cut him off.
(Just yes or no.)
Silence.
Aarav exhaled slowly.
"Old hai—"
"Don't," she said sharply.
Her voice—
breaking slightly.
"Please don't lie."
That hit him.
"I'm not—"
"She said you still meet her."
Silence.
Heavy.
Aarav's eyes darkened.
"She came here?" he asked.
"That matters right now?" she replied.
A pause.
"Answer me."
He looked at her—
serious now.
"I don't meet her."
But the doubt—
was already there.
"Phir yeh?" she asked again,
holding the phone tighter.
Aarav stepped closer.
"Listen to me—"
She stepped back.
That—
hurt more than anything.
"Mat aao paas," she said softly.
(Don't come closer…)
Aarav stopped.
Because for the first time—
she moved away from him.
And that—
felt worse than any fight.The room didn't feel the same anymore.
Same walls.
Same space.
But everything—
felt distant.
Aarav stood where he was.
Still.
Watching her.
Meher had turned away.
Not looking at him anymore.
That alone—
was enough to shake him.
"Meher…" he said quietly.
No response.
"Look at me."
She didn't.
Instead—
she walked slowly toward the bed—
sitting down carefully.
Keeping distance.
That distance—
felt louder than any argument.
"Agar tumhe mujhpe trust nahi hai—" Aarav started.
(If you don't trust me—)
She cut him off.
"Trust hai."
(I trust you.)
A pause.
"Par…"
That one word—
changed everything.
Aarav's jaw tightened.
"Par kya?"
(But what?)
She turned toward him slowly.
"Par mujhe samajh nahi aa raha kya sach hai."
(But I don't understand what's true.)
Silence.
Because that wasn't an accusation.
It was confusion.
And confusion—
can hurt more.
Aarav stepped closer again—
this time slower.
"Main hoon na sach," he said firmly.
(I am the truth.)
She looked at him—
eyes slightly filled.
"Toh phir mujhe doubt kyun ho raha hai?" she asked.
(Then why am I doubting?)
He didn't have an answer.
Because this wasn't logic anymore.
It was emotion.
A pause.
Then—
his phone buzzed again.
Both their eyes went to it.
A message.
Same number.
Meher's fingers clenched.
"Pick it up," she said quietly.
Aarav didn't move.
"Ignore karunga," he replied.
(I'll ignore it.)
"No," she said.
This time—
firmer.
"Pick it up."
Aarav hesitated—
then answered.
"Haan?"
A pause.
His expression darkened instantly.
"Kaha ho tum?" he said sharply.
(Where are you?)
Meher's heart skipped.
Another pause.
"Don't move," Aarav added.
And cut the call.
Silence.
Heavy.
"Where is she?" Meher asked.
Aarav didn't answer immediately.
Then—
"Outside."
That was it.
Everything inside Meher dropped.
"She's here?"
He nodded once.
"She didn't leave," he added.
A pause.
"And you knew?"
"No."
But it was too late.
Because now—
it didn't matter what was true.
It mattered what it felt like.
"Of course…" Meher whispered.
Aarav frowned.
"Of course kya?"
She stood up slowly—
ignoring the discomfort.
"Aap dono baat kar lo," she said quietly.
(You both talk.)
"That's not what—"
"I'm not stopping you," she added.
Her voice calm.
Too calm.
And that scared him more.
"Meher, listen—"
She shook her head.
"Main thak gayi hoon," she said.
(I'm tired.)
A pause.
"Emotionally."
That word—
hit hard.
Aarav stepped closer—
this time not stopping.
"Bas ek baar meri baat sun lo—"
She looked up at him—
eyes finally breaking.
"Main sun rahi hoon…"
(I am listening…)
A pause.
"…par believe nahi kar pa rahi."
(…but I'm not able to believe.)
Silence.
That was it.
That was the crack.
Because for Aarav—
this wasn't just misunderstanding anymore.
It was losing her trust.
And for Meher—
this wasn't just jealousy.
It was fear of being hurt.
And neither of them—
knew how to fix it.The silence didn't last long.
Aarav's patience—
was already gone.
Without another word—
he turned.
Walking out.
Fast.
"Stay here," he said once—
not even looking back.
Meher didn't stop him.
But her heart—
was racing.
Because something told her—
this wasn't over.
Outside—
the air felt colder.
And there she was.
Standing near the gate.
Calm.
Waiting.
The moment she saw Aarav—
she smiled.
"I knew you'd come."
Aarav didn't smile back.
Didn't respond.
He walked straight toward her—
his steps steady.
"Enough," he said.
One word.
Sharp.
She tilted her head.
"Already angry?" she teased lightly.
"Game khatam," he said.
(The game is over.)
That tone—
made her expression shift.
Just slightly.
"Oh?"
"Jo bhi bolna hai—abhi bolo," Aarav added.
(Whatever you have to say—say it now.)
A pause.
She crossed her arms—
still confident.
"Why? So you can defend yourself in front of her?"
Aarav stepped closer.
"No," he said quietly.
"So you can't lie anymore."
That line—
hit.
She looked at him carefully now.
"You think I'm lying?" she asked.
Aarav didn't answer.
Instead—
he turned slightly—
toward the door.
"Meher," he called.
A second later—
she appeared.
Slowly.
Her eyes moved between them.
Confusion.
Hurt.
"Yahin bolo," Aarav said.
(Say it here.)
The woman's smile faded.
"Aarav—"
"Yahin."
No room for argument.
Silence.
For the first time—
she looked unsure.
Meher stepped a little closer—
her voice quiet.
"Jo bhi sach hai… bol do."
(Whatever the truth is… say it.)
The woman exhaled.
Then laughed softly—
but this time—
it wasn't confident.
"Fine…"
A pause.
"The picture…"
She looked at Meher.
"Old hai."
(It's old.)
Meher's breath caught.
"And the meeting?"
Another pause.
"Didn't happen."
Silence.
Aarav didn't move.
Didn't react.
Because he already knew.
"But message?" Meher asked.
The woman looked away for a second.
"I sent it."
"Why?"
That question—
came from both of them.
A pause.
Then—
quietly—
"Because I didn't like seeing him move on."
Silence dropped hard.
Meher's fingers tightened.
"And you thought… breaking us would help?" Aarav asked.
His voice calm.
Too calm.
The woman didn't reply.
Because there was no justification.
"I told you I was done," Aarav said.
"And I meant it."
A pause.
"Next time…" he added,
"…stay away."
Not loud.
But final.
The woman looked at him—
then at Meher—
and for the first time—
she stepped back.
"Fine," she said softly.
And turned.
Leaving.
No drama.
No fight.
Just truth—
and exit.
Silence remained.
Aarav turned toward Meher slowly.
She was still standing there—
processing everything.
Her eyes—
slightly filled.
"I told you…" he said quietly.
She didn't reply immediately.
Instead—
she walked toward him.
Slow.
And then—
without a word—
she held his hand.
Tight.
"I'm sorry…" she whispered.
Aarav exhaled softly.
Then—
he pulled her closer.
Not forcefully.
Just enough.
"Next time…" he murmured,
"…mujhse pooch lena."
(Ask me first.)
She nodded.
Resting her head lightly against him.
Because now—
the truth was clear.
And so was him.
.
.
.
.
Hope you like it my motivation level is low as now comments no.likes no suggestions are there and I want all of this please gyz support