But it was never about them.
Not fully.
It was aboutme. About trying to stay relevant by being useful.
If I couldn’t save Khushi, maybe I could save Aarohi. If I couldn’t save Aarohi, maybe I could make up for it by never failing Greesha. So when I failed her and she died, I couldn’t saveanything.
But that’s the thing about savior complexes—
You don’t savepeople. You just bleed all over them and call it... success.
So when Aarohi was heartbroken again at Vikram’s wedding, I took the damn bait. I fell back into the stupid pattern, thinking maybe this time I’ll get it right. But I failed because I wasn’t needed.
And then I latched on to saving Khushi Joshi. She died too. I couldn’t save another person who I was meant to save. And my delusions came full circle.
Another Khushi. Another failure. Another life I couldn’t protect.
And I feltuseless. Like the purpose that I’d created for myself after failing my sister was... for nothing. Because I fail every fucking time. So I...gave up.
But now, I get it. I was never meant to save everyone.
So finally,finally, I’m focused on one person:
Me.
Yesterday, I started something small. Something that no one told me to do.
I’ve started running in the mornings. At 6 a.m. No music. No agenda. Just me and the road.
It’s the only time I let my mind focus on myself.
And somehow, it helps. Like with every step, I’m outrunning the reflex to attach my usability tosomeoneelse. Like I’m training for a life where I don’t need to besomeone’shero just to feel whole. Like I can feel the body I’m meant toactuallysave—with every ache and grunt.
I want to be the kind of man who never lets the people he loves down—not because he saves them, but because he stands beside them. With an Advik who is strong enough to bear it.
So yes, I’ve been wanting to sneeze for years. And for the first time in my life, I think I finally did.
I’m not forcing a cycle of wanting that irritant out—that urge to save someone. I’ve done it because it’s not that no one needs me. It’s becauseIneed me.
And I’m breathing again.
??????
“Stop that!”
Aadya snaps, cutting through the silence like a whip.
I glance over, still fiddling with the knot of my tie for the fifth time in the last ten minutes. I’ve worn suits around her before—plenty of times—but this is the first time she’s ever snapped about it.
“Stop what?” I ask, adjusting in my seat. The leather creaks under me as the car rolls toward Mehul Bedi’s warehouse facility.
There’s not much for us to do today other than show up and let him play leader. But apparently, he needed the whole squad here for this little power trip.
Well,almostthe whole squad.
Dev opted out, of course. No shock there—he wants nothing to do with Mehul, and honestly, I don’t blame him. Two GenVault tech members are tailing us in a separate car, but this one’s just me, Aadya, and our driver. Vir is with Mehul.
“You’re being annoying with the tie,” she mutters, eyes on the road ahead. “Just leave it. You’re making it worse.”
