The ache in my chest turns to ice.
He doesn’t love me. He loves the war-forged version of me. The soldier. The ghost.
The Aadya he molded me into. And I?I’m not her.
So for the first time, I may not know what I want, but I know what Idon’t.
I step back again. His arms fall. My hands go up. A barrier he can’t cross.
“That’s not—”
“I know what you asked,” he cuts me off quickly. “But I’m telling you the truth. I love you, Greesha.”
His face rings with sincerity but I can’t stop thinking that it’s not me who he loves. He doesn’t love the woman who wants to cookkoftabecause her significant other likes it. He doesn’t love the woman who wants to sleep till noon instead of waking up and strapping a gun on her hips at a moment’s notice.
He doesn’t loveGreesha. He loves... he lovesAadya.
“Vir—”
“Please.” His voice is almost broken. “I love you, Greesha.”
I shake my head. My breathing is erratic. “I...”
I know?No, I don’t.
And then I break the ritual for the first time in months. “I’m sorry.”
His eyes darken, a cruel sneer taking over. “I see.”
He steps back. “It’s because ofhim, isn’t it? That fragile littleboywho couldn’t even handle a bunch of pills.”
My vision swims. The world tilting on its axis.
“What did you just say?”
He falters. “I... didn’t mean that.”
“No.Fuck that. I could care less about what you think of him. Tell methis. When did you find out?”
He clenches his jaw. “I always knew. From the moment he was hospitalized all those months ago.”
Air leaves my lungs in an instant. “You... you knew this whole time?”
“Yes,” he says but I can see his reluctance to admitting it.
“You kept tabs on him.”
“Well... you did too. What does it matter?”
I smirk, dots already perfectly connected. “It matters because then you knew all about him. Where he went. What he did. And you, Lakshit Rastogi, knewall about Khushi Joshi as well.”
His eyes widen at my use of his actual name. He thought I didn’t know. Well, I always did. He fails to remember thathe’snot my asset. I’mhisasset. The one heuses.
“Why?” I ask stepping closer but he stands his ground in a stupid show of strength.
“Because it wouldn’t have led us anywhere.”
“It led us to their exit point. The boats,” I offer, my voice feverishly sweet. I can hear my own condescension.
