Dons of Punjab: Fluke of Reality✔️

Chapter 13

Prabhneet Kaur

My heart raced as I saw him again. It felt like he was everywhere, haunting me, following me wherever I went. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't escape him. Every room in the house reminded me of him. His voice echoed in my head, his scent lingered in the air. It was as if he was doing this on purpose—tormenting me, making me suffer.

I couldn't take it anymore. The memories of what we had, of what we could have had, were too much to bear. I tried to ignore him, to push him out of my thoughts, but it was impossible. His touch still burned on my skin, and my heart ached every time I saw him. I was trapped in an endless cycle of longing and pain.

But I knew I had to let him go. I had to find the strength to move on, no matter how hard it was. I couldn't keep living in misery, stuck in love that could never be. It was time to say goodbye, to close this chapter of my life. Maybe, one day, I would be able to look back and smile, knowing I had made the right choice.

That night, unable to take the suffocating pain any longer, I did something reckless. I grabbed the keys to Gunu Didi's car and sneaked out of the house. My heart pounded in my chest as I sat in the driver's seat, my fingers trembling on the steering wheel. The smooth leather felt unfamiliar against my skin, and the thought of breaking the rules sent a strange thrill through me.

I turned the key, and the engine roared to life. The vibration of the car matched the storm inside me. I wasn't just running away from home—I was running away from him, from the memories, from the love I couldn't have.

I drove through the empty streets, the night air cool against my face as I rolled down the window. The streetlights cast long shadows, making the city feel eerie and unfamiliar. My hands tightened on the wheel as I realized where I was heading—the gurudwara.

The moment I stepped inside, a sense of peace washed over me. The sacred walls stood tall, offering me a sanctuary from the world outside. The soft glow of candles flickered against the ornate tapestries, and the faint scent of incense lingered in the air. I walked to the diwan hall, my steps slow and hesitant.

Finding a quiet corner, I sat down, wrapping my arms around my knees. The rhythmic chants filled the air, calming my restless heart. For the first time in days, I felt like I could breathe. The gurudwara had always been a place of peace for me, a place where I could be myself without fear of judgment. Here, I could hide from the whispers, the stares, the suffocating expectations of my family.

My eyelids grew heavy. The exhaustion of sleepless nights finally caught up with me. I leaned against the cool wall, letting the peaceful atmosphere lull me into slumber.

A deep voice, low and familiar, broke through my sleep.

"You shouldn't be here alone."

My eyes fluttered open, and my heart stopped. Aman stood in front of me, his dark eyes filled with something I couldn't decipher.

"Aman," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

His jaw tightened. "What are you doing here so late?"

I wanted to look away, but his gaze held me captive. "I needed to get away," I admitted. "From everything."

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "You're not safe alone at this hour." His voice was firm, but there was an edge of concern in it.

I swallowed hard. "Why do you care?" I asked, my voice more bitter than I intended. "You're the reason I feel like this."

Aman's expression darkened, and he took a step closer. "You think this is easy for me?" he said, his voice low but intense. "You think I don't fight this every single day?"