It’s worse. It’s resignation.
That’s what she thinks happened? My lungs burn. My chest aches. I squeeze my eyes shut.
“One day,” I whisper, “I’ll tell you whatactuallyhappened. Why I let it. From the beginning. How I failed you. When you’re ready to listen, of course.”
She nods, slow and sad. “Sure.”
Then her face steels, and I feel the doors closing.
“For now, let’s focus on the op. I... don’t want any distractions.”
I nod. “I understand. If—”
The door opens behind me.
She stiffens immediately. I turn.
Viraj walks in, the other‘bodyguard’. He’s calm and composed, like he owns the air around him. He doesn’t spare me more than a glance before stepping beside her—his hand resting easily on the small of her back.
That’s when I hear it.
“Jaan, we gotta go. Mehul’s back at his bungalow.”
He says it low, but loud enough for me to catch. His lips brush her ear when he speaks, the intimacy unmistakable.
He’s staking his claim.
Maybe he already knows who I am. Maybe he doesn’t. Doesn’t matter.
He calls herJaan. Life. That’s not professional. That’s deeply personal.
And the fact is that she melts into his touch. Her body leans, subtly but undeniably, toward him. I don’t watch her face. I can’t. I don’t want to see her hopelessly in love.
My heart twists painfully.
I feel like I’m intruding on something I never should have.Again.
I mumble a goodbye, barely audible, and get the hell out of there.
There’s still half a day’s work left, but my mind’s a minefield. I try—really try—to concentrate.
It doesn’t work.
I text Vicky that I’m coming over for dinner. And hope that’s still okay.
Dr. Reza’s been nudging me to talk to him about Khushi. Abouteverything.
I’ve been avoiding it. But I can’t keep stalling.
Everywhere I look, people are moving forward. They’re rebuilding. Healing.Living.
And I’m still stuck.
Frozen in some godforsaken purgatory of regret and guilt.
Maybe it’s time.
Maybe it’s finally time to try. To start crawling out of this hole. To join this brutal, unforgiving race of life again.
