The evening breeze felt strangely heavy, carrying a mix of dust, the smell of diesel, and that old, familiar weight Ananya thought she had learned to live with. She walked slowly down the lane toward the market, her mind still tangled with everything Arav had confessed, every half-truth, every shadowed sentence he had left open.
His words repeated in her head on a loop.
"If anything happens to you because of me… I won't survive that."
Back then, she didn't know how to answer. She couldn't figure out if he wanted to protect her… or push her away again.
And now, hours later, walking alone with her thoughts, she felt that same confusion gripping her chest.
The street lights had just flickered on. The world looked like it was dipped in amber. People moved around her—vendors calling out prices, children chasing each other, couples talking quietly. But she felt detached from all of it, as though her feet were walking but her mind was somewhere else entirely.
Somewhere back with him.
Somewhere stuck in the ache of unanswered questions.
Why did he come back?
Why warn her to stay away?
What danger did he think she was in?
The more she thought about it, the deeper her mind sank into that maze. She didn't even notice when her pace slowed. Her gaze drifted to the ground, then forward… but unfocused.
Her phone buzzed in her hand.
A message.
Not from Arav.
From Riya.
"Come home early today. Maa is asking."
She sighed and slipped the phone back into her bag, barely paying attention to the traffic as she stepped off the footpath.
She didn't see the speeding motorcycle approaching from the right.
She didn't see the headlight flash.
She didn't hear the brakes screeching.
All she understood, in one terrifying second, was a sudden rush of wind—sharp, violent—coming straight toward her.
Someone screamed behind her.
A vendor shouted, "Arre! Look out!!"
But Ananya froze.
Like her body forgot how to move.
Like her mind shut down.
In that split second, the world blurred into one streak of panic and noise—
And then a pair of arms slammed around her waist.
Not gently.
Not carefully.
Desperately.
She was pulled backward with such force that she stumbled against a chest—strong, warm, trembling.
The bike roared past them, so close she felt the wind whip her hair across her face.
The rider shouted, someone else cursed, tires skidded on the road… but all of that sounded far away compared to the pounding heartbeat behind her.
He didn't let her go.
Not for a long moment.
His breath was sharp, uneven, shaking against her ear. She knew that breathing. She had memorized it in childhood, recognized it even in the dark.
Arav.
But not the calm, guarded Arav from earlier.
This was something else.
Something raw.
Something terrified.
"Are you—" he choked out, words breaking, "—are you out of your mind?"
Only then did he pull back enough for her to see his face.
His eyes were blazing. Not with anger… but fear. A fear so real it made her stomach twist.
"Do you even look where you're walking?" he snapped, voice low, trembling. "What were you thinking? You almost—" He stopped, jaw tightening painfully. "God, Ananya…"
She stared at him. "Arav… I didn't see—"
"Exactly!" His voice cracked. "You didn't see. You weren't paying attention. One second later and—"
He swallowed hard, looking away as if even imagining it physically hurt him.
She understood.
He wasn't angry at her.
He was angry at the idea of losing her.
She took a small step back, still breathless. "You… you came after me?"
"Of course I came after you," he shot back. "I saw you walk off with that face—you weren't okay. And then you walked straight into the damn road without looking, Ananya!"
People around them had stopped watching. The world was moving again, but between the two of them, time stayed painfully still.
Her voice softened. "You could've gotten hurt too."
"I don't care about that!" he snapped.
The words slipped out of him before he could stop them.
Then he froze.
She froze too.
And suddenly his anger seemed to drain, replaced by something heavier… something almost vulnerable.
He ran a shaking hand through his hair. "I can't… I can't let anything happen to you."
Her chest tightened. "Why, Arav?"
He looked at her then.
Really looked.
All the walls in his eyes cracked for the first time since he returned. She saw the boy he once was… and the man life had swallowed and reshaped.
His voice came out low, broken, too honest for his own good.
"Because I've spent five years staying away from you to keep you safe. Five years trying to keep the mess in my life from touching yours. And in one second—just one—you almost died because you were thinking about me."
Ananya blinked, stunned.
Her lips parted. "How do you know I was thinking about you?"
He gave a small, miserable laugh. "Because you always walk perfectly straight. You never lose focus unless your head is filled with something heavy. And right now… the only thing that can trouble you this much is me."
Her throat tightened. She looked away, unable to meet his eyes.
"You don't get to talk about safety after leaving me," she whispered. "You don't get to show up and act like—"
"Like what?" he asked, stepping closer.
She took a breath. "Like you still have the right to care."
His jaw clenched. For a second he didn't speak.
Then he said it—quiet, steady, deeply human.
"I don't want the right to care."
A pause.
"I just… can't stop caring."
The honesty in his voice made something inside her shiver. The streetlight behind him cast a soft halo over his silhouette, the breeze ruffling his hair. He looked older, sharper… but the pain in his eyes was painfully familiar.
She hugged her arms around herself, suddenly cold. "You said I should stay away… but you're the one following me everywhere."
"That's because you don't understand how dangerous things are right now."
"Then explain it to me!"
"I can't," he whispered. "Not yet."
"Why not?"
He looked torn—really torn—between protecting her and telling her the truth.
After a long, fragile silence, he said, "If I tell you… you'll be dragged into everything I spent years trying to shield you from."
Her voice broke. "Maybe I was already dragged into it the moment you left without a word."
He closed his eyes. Those simple words hit him harder than anything else could.
She turned away. "I should go."
He caught her wrist—not harshly, but with urgency.
"Ananya—just listen."
"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "I don't want another half-truth today."
He exhaled shakily. "Just promise me something."
"I'm not making any promises."
"Please," he said softly—too softly. "Just be careful. If something happens to you… I won't—"
His voice cracked again. "I won't survive it."
Her heart twisted painfully.
"Arav…" she whispered.
He stepped closer. "I know I hurt you. I know leaving broke you. I know you waited. I know I don't deserve forgiveness." His voice shook. "But if anything happened to you today… I swear I would've—"
He stopped abruptly, unable to continue.
His eyes glistened. Not tears exactly… but something very close.
For a moment, Ananya forgot her anger. The fear in his voice was too raw, too sincere.
The streetlights flickered again. The world around them blurred into background noise—vendors packing up, cars honking in the distance, the rustle of leaves overhead.
It was just them.
And years of pain between them.
"Arav," she said quietly, "if you're so scared of something happening to me… then why don't you just stay?"
He didn't breathe for a moment.
Then he whispered, "Because staying is exactly what puts you in danger."
Her heart sank. "What does that mean?"
His hand slowly slid down her wrist, but he didn't let go completely. "It means everything I've been hiding is starting to catch up to me."
The fear in his eyes wasn't for himself.
It was entirely for her.
She swallowed hard. "Then tell me the truth."
His voice barely carried. "The truth isn't safe."
Her eyes softened. "Arav… I'm not afraid of the truth."
He looked at her like she was the one thing he couldn't protect himself from.
And after a long, agonizing beat, he whispered—
"You should be."