The house was unusually quiet that evening.

Soft golden light from the setting sun filtered through the curtains, casting long shadows across the room. Everything looked calm… peaceful.

But Richa wasn’t.

She sat on the edge of the bed, her phone resting in her lap, fingers nervously tapping against it. Her eyes kept drifting toward the screen every few seconds—as if she was waiting for something.

A soft vibration broke the silence.

Her breath hitched.

For a moment, she didn’t move.

Then slowly… almost hesitantly… she picked up the phone.

Unknown Number.

Her heart started racing.

She stared at it for a few seconds before opening the message.

“Miss me?”

Her fingers went cold.

A strange, suffocating feeling crept into her chest.

It couldn’t be.

She quickly typed back—“Who is this?”

The reply came instantly.“Already forgot me? That hurts Richa.”

That name.

The way it was written.

Only one person used to say it like that.

Her grip tightened around the phone.

“Stop this. I don’t know you.”

A few seconds.

Then another message.

And this time…her world tilted

.“Should I remind you?”

A file.

Attached.

Her hands trembled as she stared at it.

“No…” she whispered under her breath.

She shouldn’t open it.

But fear won.

Her thumb tapped the screen.

The image loaded.

And everything inside her shattered.

Her breath got stuck in her throat as her eyes widened in horror.

“God…”

Her hand flew to her mouth.

It was from her past.

Something she had buried… forgotten… erased from her life completely.

Or at least… she thought she had.

Her vision blurred as panic started rising.

Another message popped.

“Now do you remember me?”

Tears instantly filled her eyes.

Her fingers shook so badly she could barely type.

“What do you want?”

This time, the reply took a few seconds.

Her heart pounded so loudly it echoed in her ears.

Then—“Meet me.”

Her breath hitched.

“Tomorrow. 7 PM.”

Another message followed.“Or should I send this to your husband?”

The phone slipped slightly from her grip.

Aryaman.

The name alone sent a different kind of fear through her.

Not because he would leave her.

But because of what he would become.

Her mind raced.

If he saw this—

No, he couldn’t.

Her chest tightened as tears rolled down her cheeks.

She quickly wiped them away, trying to breathe normally.

Think, Richa. Think.

Another vibration.“Don’t be late.”“And come alone.”

Her hands clenched into fists.

The sound of the door opening made her freeze.

Her head snapped toward it.

Aryaman walked in.

Calm. Composed. Unbothered.

His sharp eyes immediately landed on her.

And in that one glance—

he noticed.

The pale face.

The trembling hands.

The way she quickly locked her phone.

His gaze darkened slightly.“Richa.”

She forced a small smile.

“You’re back…”

He didn’t respond immediately.

Just walked closer.

Slow steps,Observing.

“What happened?”

A simple question.

“Nothing,” she said quickly.

Too quickly.

His eyes narrowed “Nothing?”

He stopped right in front of her.

Close enough to notice every little detail.

Her uneven breathing.

Her teary eyes.

Her clenched fingers.

His gaze flickered to her phone for a second.

Then back to her face.

Richa looked away.

“I’m just tired.”

Aryaman didn’t believe her.

That much was clear.

But he didn’t push.

Instead, he simply said—

“Get some rest.”

And turned away.

But his expression had changed.

That night—

Richa couldn’t sleep.

She lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, her phone clutched tightly in her hand.

Every second felt heavier.

Every thought darker.

Beside her, Aryaman lay still.

Eyes closed.

But not asleep.

He could feel it.

The tension.

The fear.

The distance she was creating.

And he didn’t like it.

Not one bit.

His jaw tightened slightly.

Something was wrong.

And whatever it was he was going to find out.

Across the room, her phone lit up again.

Another message.

Her breath caught.

She didn’t open it.

But one thing was clear now

Her past wasn’t done with her.

CH 21---HIDDEN

The morning felt… normal

Sunlight poured into the room, soft and warm, but Richa felt none of it. Her mind was still stuck on those messages… those words… that threat.

Her phone lay beside her.

Silent.

She picked it up again, reading the last message for what felt like the hundredth time.

*“7 PM. Don’t test my patience.”*

Her throat went dry.

Before she could think further—

A hand suddenly wrapped around her waist.

She gasped softly.

Aryaman.

He pulled her back against his chest, his voice low and sleepy near her ear.

“Good morning…”

Her heart skipped—but not in the usual way.

Fear mixed with something else.

She quickly locked her phone and placed it aside.

“Morning…” she replied, trying to sound normal.

His arms tightened slightly around her.

But then—He stilled.

His gaze shifted to the side.

To her phone.

“You woke up early.”

“Hmm… couldn’t sleep,” she said quickly.

Aryaman didn’t respond immediately.

His fingers traced lightly over he

“Something bothering you?”

There it was.

The question she was avoiding.

Richa forced a small laugh, turning slightly in his arms.

“Why do you always think something is wrong?”

He didn’t smile.

Just watched her.

“Because I can see it.”Her breath hitched for a second.

But she recovered.

Sliding her hand up his chest, she looked into his eyes with a soft expression.

“Or maybe…” she whispered, stepping closer, “you’re overthinking.”

A distraction.

And Aryaman knew it.

But still—

his gaze dropped briefly to her lips.

A flicker of something changed.

Richa took that chance.

She leaned in, brushing her lips lightly against his jaw and then his lips.

“Stop being so serious in the morning…”Her voice was soft. Teasing.

Her fingers tangled in his shirt.

Trying to pull him away from the question.

And for a moment—

it worked.

Aryaman’s hand moved to her waist, gripping it tighter.

His head tilted slightly as his lips brushed her temple.

But even then,his mind wasn’t completely there.

Because something still felt… off.

“Richa.”Her name, low and firm.

She hummed softly, pretending not to notice the shift.

“Hmm?”

“Look at me.”She didn’t want to.

And for a second,her mask slipped.

Just a second.

But Aryaman caught it.

Fear.

His expression darkened.

“What—”

Before he could finish—

She kissed him again.

Suddenly.

Cutting his words off completely.

For a moment, he froze.

Then his grip tightened instinctively.

Her fingers clutched him closer, almost desperately.

Not just romance.Escape

And now he was sure.

Something was definitely wrong.

But instead of pushing her away

He responded.

Deepened the kiss slightly.

But when she pulled back, breath uneven, she avoided his eyes again.

“I have to get ready,” she said quickly, stepping away.

Too quickly.

Aryaman stood there, watching her.

The entire day went the same.

Every time he came close to asking—

She slipped away With a smile.

At lunch,

She fed him with her own hands.

At evening,

She sat unusually close, resting her head on his shoulder.

Even laughed more than usual.

Too much.

Too forced.

And Aryaman noticed every single detail.

But he didn’t stop her.

Didn’t question her.

Because sometimes—

Silence reveals more than questions.

Evening 6:30 PM.

Richa stood in front of the mirror, her hands slightly trembling as she adjusted her dupatta.

Her heart was racing.

This was a mistake.

But she had no choice.

If Aryaman found out like this—

It would be worse.

She picked up her phone.

One last message blinked on the screen. *“I’m waiting.”*

Her chest tightened.

From behind—

Aryaman’s reflection appeared in the mirror.

She froze.

He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyes fixed on her.

“Going somewhere?”

Her fingers clenched.

“Just… out for some fresh air.”

A lie.

And he knew it.

His gaze slowly traveled over her.

From head to toe.

Taking in every detail.

“Dressed like this… for fresh air?”

Her throat went dry.

Think.

She walked up to him slowly, forcing calm into her steps.

“Do I need a reason to go out?” she said lightly.

Then, softer—

“You don’t like it?”

A challenge.

A distraction.

Aryaman’s eyes held hers.

Then slowly—

He stepped aside.

Giving her space to pass.

“Be back soon.”

She walked past him.

Heart pounding.

Every step heavier than the last.

As soon as she stepped out—

Aryaman’s expression changed.

The calm… gone.

His jaw tightened.

Eyes cold.

Dangerously sharp.

He pulled out his phone.

Dialed a number.

“Keep an eye on her.”A pause.

His voice dropped.

“And don’t lose her.”

He ended the call.

His gaze fixed on the door she just walked through.

“What are you hiding from me, Richa…”A whisper.

Not soft.Not gentle.

But filled with something far more dangerous—

Possession.

Outside,Richa took a deep breath.

Her hands shaking as she clutched her phone.

One thought echoing in her mind

*This ends today.*

But what she didn’t know was—

She wasn’t alone anymore.

--

Ch-22 KILL

The place was exactly how Richa imagined it—isolated, dim, and suffocating.

A private office on the outskirts of the city. No staff. No noise. Just silence that felt… wrong.

Her fingers tightened around her phone as she stepped inside.

“Hello?” her voice echoed slightly.

The door shut behind her with a soft click.“You came.”

Richa froze.

He stepped out from the shadows, a slow smirk spreading across his face. The same man who had been threatening her for days… the same man who claimed Aryaman had leaked her pictures.

Her ex partner.

“You said you have proof,” Richa said, forcing her voice to stay steady. “Show me.”

He chuckled, walking toward hertoo close.

“Straight to business? No ‘how are you’ after so long?”

“I’m not here for games,” she snapped, taking a step back. “Show me the proof.”

His expression changed.

Darkened.

“You really think I called you here just to show you something?” he said softly.

A chill ran down her spine.

“I already told you,” Richa said, trying to stay firm. “If you have proof, give it to me. Otherwise, stop this nonsense—”

Before she could finish, he grabbed her wrist.

Richa gasped. “Leave me!”

But his grip only tightened.

“You know,” he leaned closer, his breath hitting her face, “I always wondered… what Aryaman sees in you.”

“Don’t—” she tried to pull away, but he yanked her closer.

“Maybe I should find out myself.”

Her heart dropped.

“Let go of me!” she struggled, pushing against his chest, but he was stronger.

He shoved her slightly, backing her against the table. Her phone slipped from her hand, falling somewhere out of reach.

“Stop it!” her voice cracked now, panic rising.

But he didn’t stop.

His hand moved to her arm, gripping tighter as she tried to twist away. She pushed him, hit him, tried everything—but he only laughed.

“Relax,” he murmured. “You should be grateful I’m even interested—”

BANG.

The sound shattered everything.

For a second, Richa didn’t even understand what happened.

Then—

A scream tore from his throat.

His grip loosened instantly.

Richa stumbled back, her breath hitching as she saw blood splatter across his hand… a few drops hitting her face.

Her entire body froze.

The man clutched his hand, falling to his knees, groaning in pain.

And then—

She saw him.

Aryaman.

Standing at the entrance.

Gun still in his hand.

Eyes… dark. Cold. Deadly.

Richa’s lips parted slightly. “Arya…”

But he didn’t look at her.

Not even once.

His gaze was locked on the man in front of him.

And the next second—

He walked forward.

Slow. Controlled.

Terrifying.

“You touched her.”

His voice was quiet.

Too quiet.

The man tried to speak, wincing in pain. “I—I didn’t—”

Aryaman didn’t let him finish.

His fist collided with his face, sending him crashing to the floor.

Another punch.

And another.

And another.

Each one harder than the last.

Richa flinched at every hit, her heart racing wildly. “Aryaman… stop…”

But he didn’t.

It was like he couldn’t hear her.

All the rage… all the control he usually had—it was gone.

“You think you can touch what’s mine?” he growled, grabbing his collar and dragging him up before slamming him back down.

Blood covered his knuckles now.

The man was barely conscious.

“Aryaman, please!” Richa rushed forward, grabbing his arm. “He’ll die—”

He froze.

For a second.

Just a second.

His chest rising and falling heavily.

Then he shoved the man away like he was nothing… stepping back.

The room fell silent again.

Heavy breathing.

Painful silence.

Richa looked at Aryaman, her eyes filled with tears. Without thinking, she moved forward and wrapped her arms around him tightly.

Clinging to him.

Like he was the only thing keeping her grounded.

“Arya…” she whispered, her voice shaking.

But—

He didn’t hug her back.

His body remained stiff.

And that’s when she felt it.

The distance.

The hurt.

Slowly… he removed her hands from him.

Not roughly.

But firmly.

“Come.”

Just one word.

He turned and walked out.

Richa stood there for a second, her chest aching… before quietly following him.

The car ride was silent.

Painfully silent.

Aryaman didn’t look at her even once.

Didn’t ask if she was okay.

Didn’t say a word.

Richa sat beside him, her hands trembling slightly, her mind replaying everything over and over again.

Then suddenly—

He reached back, grabbed a water bottle, opened it, and placed it in her hand.

Still not looking at her.

The small gesture made her throat tighten.

Tears welled up again, but she blinked them back, taking a small sip.

Neither of them spoke.

But the silence between them said everything.

CH -23 SORRY

The moment they stepped inside the house, silence wrapped around them like something heavy… something suffocating.Richa’s fingers were still trembling as she closed the door behind her. Her eyes instinctively went to Aryaman.

He didn’t look at her.

Not once.

He walked ahead, his steps fast, controlled… too controlled. The kind that always came before a storm.She followed him quietly.

Into the bedroom.

The door remained half open.

Aryaman stopped near the dresser, his back facing her. His shoulders were stiff, rising and falling with uneven breaths. For a few seconds, neither of them spoke.

The silence stretched

“Aryaman…” she finally whispered, her voice barely there.

That was it.

Something snapped.

In one sudden movement, he grabbed the flower vase from the side table and hurled it straight into the mirror.

CRASH.

The sound echoed violently through the room.

Glass shattered everywhere.

Richa flinched, her whole body jerking back, fear flashing across her face as tiny shards scattered across the floor.

Her heart started pounding wildly.

“Arya—”Before she could complete, he turned.

His eyes were dark. Not just angry—hurt, betrayed, furious.

Within seconds, he closed the distance between them.

Her back hit the wall.

Hard.

A gasp left her lips as his hand gripped her chin, forcing her to look at him.

“Why?” his voice came out low, dangerous, shaking with restrained rage. “Why did you hide it from me?”

Her lips parted, but no words came out.

Her mind was blank.

His grip tightened slightly.

“I asked you,” he continued, his voice rising, pain slipping through the cracks of his anger, “again and again what’s wrong. And you… you stood there, lied to my face, distracted me—”

“I wasn’t—” she tried to speak, tears already filling her eyes.

But he cut her off.

“You think I wouldn’t have handled it?” his jaw clenched. “Or you just didn’t trust me enough?”

That hit her.

Hard.

“It’s not like that…” she shook her head, her voice breaking. “I was trying to—”

“To what?” he snapped.

Silence.

Because she didn’t have an answer that would fix this.

And that hurt him more.

For a second, he just stared at her.Then suddenly—

He let go.

But not to calm down.

He turned and punched the already broken mirror with his bare hand.

The sound of impact was dull… but the effect—

Immediate.

Richa gasped.“Aryaman!”

Blood instantly started oozing from his knuckles, dripping down his hand, staining the shattered glass below.

“What are you doing?!” she rushed forward, panic flooding her voice as she tried to hold his hand.

But he pulled it away,as if even her touch was too much.

“I am suffocating here,” he said, his voice low, strained… broken in a way she had never heard before.

Her heart clenched painfully.

He didn’t look at her again.

Not even once.

And then he walked out.

Leaving behind the broken mirror…

the scattered glass…

the drops of his blood…

And her.

Richa stood there, frozen.

Her hands still half-raised in the air where he had pushed her away.

For a moment, she couldn’t even breathe.

Then slowly… her gaze shifted.

To the mirror.

Shattered.

Just like everything between them right now.

Her vision blurred with tears.

“Aryaman…” his name slipped from her lips in a broken whisper.

But there was no response.

Only silence.

Heavy.

Deafening.

Her legs gave way, and she sank to the floor, right in front of the broken pieces. Her eyes fell on the blood—his blood—spread across the glass.

Her fingers trembled as she touched it.

And that was it.

She broke.

A sob tore out of her chest, raw and uncontrollable.

“I didn’t mean to…” she cried, shaking her head desperately. “I didn’t want to hurt you…”

Her shoulders trembled as she curled into herself, guilt crashing over her like waves.

“I was scared…” she whispered through her tears. “I thought I could fix it… before it reached you…”

But now—

Everything had reached him.

And it had destroyed him.

Destroyed them.

The room felt empty.

Cold.

And unbearably lonely.

Just like the space he left behind.

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