Days turned into weeks, and silence stretched like an endless road between them. Kiara stared at her phone every night, her fingers hovering over Aarav's name, but she never pressed call. Pride and pain held her hostage.
The media storm had calmed, but the damage lingered. Every interview Kiara gave felt hollow, every smile forced. And yet, when she scrolled through news articles late at night, she found herself searching for him—his name, his face, his voice.
One evening, she stumbled upon a live-streamed press conference. Aarav stood at the podium, his posture rigid, his voice steady as he spoke about the satellite project. His words were technical, precise, but Kiara heard the exhaustion beneath them. His eyes looked darker, his smile thinner.
She whispered to the empty room, "You're burning yourself out, Aarav."
Her chest ached with longing. She wanted to be there, to tell him he wasn't alone. But he had made his choice—and left her standing in the cold.
Meanwhile, Aarav sat in his office long after the cameras stopped rolling. The silence was deafening. He stared at the blueprint on his desk, but all he saw was her face—the way her eyes shimmered under the stars, the way her voice trembled when she said, "Maybe I don't want you to stop."
He clenched his fists, fighting the urge to call her. He had promised himself he wouldn't. Love was a luxury he couldn't afford—not now, not when everything was on the line.
But every night, when the world slept, Aarav opened his phone and scrolled through her interviews. He watched her laugh, watched her smile, and wondered if she was as broken as he felt.
Kiara closed her laptop, tears slipping down her cheeks. She had everything—fame, fortune, adoration—but none of it mattered. Because the one person she wanted was a thousand miles away, building dreams that didn't include her.
And yet, in the quiet of her heart, a vow formed: she wouldn't let this be the end.