She’s not yelling. But her eyes...God. Her eyes are wet. Not panicked, not angry—just devastated. Quietly, silently, unraveling in front of me. I caused this. And I don’t know if my explanation will worsen it or ease it.
So I shut my mouth for a good few seconds and adjust myself in my seat. “I shouldn’t have said that. I wasn’t thinking that—”
“Stop.Lying,” she growls.
I recoil slightly. Her voice is steel. That calm, dangerous kind. The kind that cracks things open.
I steel myself and find the words I was initially about to say. But before that—
“I’ll tell you. Everything. But I need you to bear with me.Please,” I plead.
When she nods stiffly I start. “I wanted to kiss her because... because I wanted to end whatever strange, unsaid bond I had with her. My therapist said... he said that I have ahero complex.A type that in my case is... just reckless.”
She scoffs, but I push through.
“My earliest memories of Aarohi were... she was usually going through something. Bad breakups. Terrible comments from her family. She’d be at gatherings, off to the side. Sad.Isolated. AndVicky kept encouraging me to make her feel seen. Well, she was his girlfriend’s cousin and I understood.”
I take a breath. “So I did. I watched out for her. I made space. I was kind. Withzeroromantic feelings.”
Greesha’s expression doesn’t shift, but her fingers twitch slightly against the armrest.
“But one night... she was on the phone with someone, and I overheard her saying she wanted to bedone. That even her mother hated her. I—God, I don’t know if she was suicidal or it was just a moment, but she sounded solost. And with Vikram speaking in my ear about taking care of her, I... I started to feel responsible.”
Greesha is no longer looking at me. She’s staring at the window, maybe piecing my story together.
“I started keeping an eye whenever we met. But I swear to you I never... Ineveractually wanted anything beyond than just taking care of her. I see how it was absolutely stupid of me to want to save someone from dying. I know, now, that feeling responsible for Khushi and her being the forbidden topic was the cause but...”
I breathe in tightly. “But back then, I let this fantasy of Aarohi take over. That she needed me. And I made mistakes because sheactuallynever did. I had zero influence on making her come out of that horrible spiral because I know how—”
I stop my train of thought.Fuck. This is way too close to my own stupid spiral. “B-because now I know how... me forcing that savior shit on her wouldn’t have helped her. Onlyshecan help herself.”
Only I can help myself.
Greesha spares a quick glance. I have no idea what she’s thinking because her expression hasn’t given anything away after she snapped at me for lying.Shit.
“And it was exhausting. Also, in hindsight, I didn’t realize how much it bothered my significant others. That I was keeping that level of watch on her. My feelings were never intense. Just a twisted version of protectiveness. And I confused them with romance over time—while never actually pushing for her. Because I didn’twantto.”
Her jaw tightens.
“Then I met you. I fell in love with you. And that made everything messier because I should’ve gotten rid of those twisted feelings in time.”
She doesn’t react. Her face is unreadable now, closed off like a vault. And it terrifies me more than her anger.
“So yes,” I say, voice lower. “When she was leaving the country, I thought I wanted to kiss her goodbye. Because the delusion was ending. My self-appointed duty wasover. And I was grieving it—not her.I wanted it all to go away—while still carrying that grief. I want to... b-burn it down. I thought a kiss would crumble the whole thing. Because I knew my thoughts were wrong and I thought I’d be able to prove to myself that‘see? Kissing her meant nothing’.”
She exhales slowly, like she’s been holding her breath this whole time.
“Was it wrong?” I ask, forcing myself to look her in the eye. “Yes. Was it emotional cheating?Absolutely. I shared something sacred—my attention, my guilt, my misplaced care, protection—withsomeone else.When all I wanted—truly loved—was you. And then I couldn’t p-protect you. You... you died.”
My voice breaks and she looks at me finally. Not with anger. Not even disappointment.
Just quiet devastation.
And that’s so much worse.
She averts her gaze and stands slowly, like even the motion costs her. Her footsteps are silent. Her spine rigid. Her eyes never meet mine again.
I don’t stop her.
