Page 60 of The Ruin I Chose

I wondered who it would be but didn’t bother checking. Then she dragged me to the dance floor. We danced. We swayed. We screamed lyrics, spilled tequila, and let the night blur.

I let my hair down—really down—for the first time in months. I danced like I remembered joy. Like I was borrowing it for the night. Like I knew it would slip through my fingers the second the music stopped. Joy felt foreign on my skin, like a dress I wasn’t sure I still fit into.

Later, breathless, I slipped out to the terrace. The air was cooler here, quieter. My phone buzzed. Unknown number. I shrugged, placed it on the bar counter, and asked for a glass of water.

A man approached. “You dance really well,” he said.

“Thank you,” I replied, polite but distant.

“Can I have one dance?”

“I’m tired,” I said, turning to the bartender, almost asking for help with my eyes.

He leaned in, insistent. “Come on, just one more.”

“Well, there are plenty of other women who’ve danced better. I’m sure they’ll oblige,” I said with a dry smile.

“None like you though.” He stood closer.

“Couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

I frowned, jaw tightening. A familiar wave of disgust rose—unwelcome, heavy. I was about to smack him right in the face when Ritu appeared, eyes sharp.

“Hey Rahul, there you are. Your wife’s looking for you.”

He vanished.

“Thanks for saving me,” I said.

“Always,” Ritu grinned. “He’s a creep though.”

We leaned against the bar, catching our breath. She turned to me, voice softer now.

“How have you been, babe? Heard from your Italian hunk?”

I looked down. “No. Not once. I was stupid to think it was real. I let him in too fast. I let myself believe.”

Saying it aloud made something in my chest twist painfully—like the truth had teeth.

Ritu touched my arm. “It’s not your fault. You know that, right?

“But I wasn’t honest, Ritu. Not with him. Not with myself. My marriage collapsed, and I drove away the only man who made me feel alive.”

“Roxy… girl, are you in love?”

“Maybe. I can’t get him off my mind. I keep replaying it—what if I’d told him everything from the start? Maybe I wouldn’t be sitting here nursing a broken heart that doesn’t know how to heal.”

I swallowed hard, because even admitting that felt like ripping open a wound.

“You wear your heart on your sleeve, girl. It was bound to happen. I feel guilty for pushing you towards him.”

“Don’t do that. Those days I spent with him were the best. I’ve never felt this way with anyone.”

My voice cracked. Just a little. Just enough.

“He gives me butterflies. But maybe we were meant to be like shooting stars—brilliant, fleeting, never meant to stay. No matter how deep it felt, how many memories we built, our ending wasn’t an accident.

“Maybe the universe left us unfinished because the growth mattered more than the staying. And maybe it ended in silence because our paths were always supposed to diverge.”