The silence became a new normal, a constant, low hum of absence in Dakshin's life. He threw himself into his engineering studies with a grim intensity, the complex problems a welcome distraction from the unsolvable equation of his heart. But the world, it seemed, was not content to let him suffer in peace.
It happened at a campus party he'd been dragged to by a well-meaning friend. The music was too loud, the lights too strobbing, the crowd too happy. He was nursing a drink in the corner, feeling like a ghost at a feast, when he saw her.
Anaya was there. And she wasn't alone.
She was with a guy named Leo from her economics class. He was everything Dakshin wasn't—effortlessly sociable, his laughter booming and unburdened. He stood close to Anaya, his hand resting lightly on the small of her back as he introduced her to a group of friends.
A hot, sharp spike of jealousy, so potent it felt like nausea, lanced through Dakshin. He couldn't look away. He watched her smile at something Leo said. It wasn't her old, free smile, but it was a smile nonetheless. And it wasn't for him.
His friend, Rohan, nudged him. "Hey, isn't that...?"
"Yeah," Dakshin cut him off, his voice tight.
"Who's the guy?"
"Doesn't matter," Dakshin muttered, draining his drink. The sweet liquid tasted like ash.
He wanted to leave, to flee from the evidence that her world was continuing without him. But he was paralyzed, his gaze locked on them. Then, as if sensing the weight of his stare, Anaya's eyes flickered across the room and met his.
For a single, electric second, the mask of indifference slipped. He saw a flash of something—surprise, maybe even a flicker of the old connection—before her expression iced over again. But she didn't look away. Instead, she turned slightly towards Leo, said something that made him laugh, and deliberately linked her arm with his.
The message was as subtle as a sledgehammer. See? I am moving on. I am fine without you.
It was a performance, and he was the unwilling audience. The spotlight of her calculated affection for another man was burning him, exposing the raw, jealous wound she had left behind. He had chosen his path, and now he was forced to watch her walk down hers, arm-in-arm with someone who didn't carry the weight of his family's name.
He turned and pushed his way through the crowd, the thumping bass syncing with the painful throbbing in his chest. The party's noise faded behind him, but the image of her arm linked with Leo's was seared onto the back of his eyelids.
---
Across the room, Anaya unlinked her arm from Leo's the moment Dakshin disappeared from view.
"Everything okay?" Leo asked, his brow furrowed with genuine concern.
"Fine," she said, forcing a brightness into her voice that she didn't feel. "Just... a little warm. I think I need some air."
She escaped to the balcony, the cool night a relief against her flushed skin. Her heart was hammering. Seeing him had been a shock. Hurting him had been a necessity. It was another brick in the wall, a public demonstration of her new allegiance.
But as she stared out at the city lights, the victory felt hollow. Leo was nice. He was simple. He didn't come with the baggage of a family feud or the soul-deep understanding that Dakshin had. He was a prop in her play of independence.
She had wielded his presence like a weapon,
and it had hit its mark. She had seen the devastation on Dakshin's face. So why did she feel like she was the one who had just been wounded? The wall was getting higher, but the fortress inside felt emptier than ever.