Dons of Punjab: Fluke of Reality✔️

Chapter 15

Amandeep Singh Aulakh

I stood outside Prabh's room, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. My heart was racing, and my stomach felt like it had twisted into knots. This wasn't supposed to happen. She wasn't supposed to find out like this.

I pressed my forehead against the door, taking a shaky breath. "Prabh," I called softly, trying to keep my voice steady. "Please... let me explain."

Silence.

But I could hear her crying inside, soft muffled sobs that made my chest tighten. I had done this. I had hurt her. The one person I swore I would protect, the one person I loved more than anything in the world.

I knocked again, a little harder this time. "Prabh, please talk to me," I begged. "I know you're upset, but just let me explain—"

The door suddenly swung open, and I barely had time to react before pain exploded across my cheek. The sharp sting of her slap left me frozen in place.

"Get out!" she screamed, her voice shaking. Her eyes, red from crying, burned with anger and betrayal.

"Prabh, just listen to me—"

"I said get out!" She shoved me hard, and I stumbled back, barely catching my balance.

I looked at her, my heart breaking at the sight. She was breathing heavily, her hands clenched into fists, her whole body trembling. Tears were still running down her face, but there was something else there too—pain. A deep kind of pain that made me want to fall to my knees and beg for forgiveness.

"I never wanted to hurt you," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I swear, Prabh. I love you."

She let out a bitter laugh, wiping her face. "Love?" she spat. "You call this love? Lying to me? Hiding things from me? Do you even know what this feels like?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I thought I was protecting you—"

"Protecting me?" she snapped. "From what, Aman? The truth?"

I had no words. I wanted to say something—anything—to make her understand, but the anger in her eyes told me nothing I said would matter right now.

Her lips trembled, and for a second, I thought she might break down again. But then she squared her shoulders and glared at me. "I don't ever want to see you again," she said, her voice cold. "Now get out of my sight."

The finality in her tone made my heart sink. I wanted to fight for her, to make her see how much I regretted everything, but I knew she wouldn't listen now. She needed space.

With one last look at her, I stepped back. "I'm sorry," I whispered. Then, before I lost whatever little control I had left, I turned and walked away.

I made my way down the stairs, my legs feeling heavy. My family was waiting for me in the living room, their faces filled with concern. As soon as I stepped off the last stair, Jashan Phabi rushed forward, pulling me into a hug.

"She hates me," I murmured, my throat tight.

"No, she doesn't," Phabi whispered, rubbing my back. "She's hurt, Aman. But she doesn't hate you."

I wanted to believe her. I wanted to believe that Prabh would forgive me. But as I stood there, the sting of her slap still fresh on my skin, I wasn't sure if I ever would be able to fix what I had broken.

With a heavy heart, I walked out of the house, the cool night air hitting my face. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, but the weight of my guilt didn't fade.

I had lost her.

And it was all my fault.

I walked aimlessly down the street, my feet dragging against the pavement. The cold air burned against my skin, but I barely noticed. My mind was spinning, replaying every moment of what had just happened. The anger in Prabh's eyes, the way her voice had cracked when she screamed at me, the slap that still stung on my cheek.

I had lost her.

And I had no one to blame but myself.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, but I didn't bother checking it. I knew it was my family—probably Phabi or Bhaji—worried about me. But I didn't have the energy to talk. What was I supposed to say? That I had ruined everything? That the one person who meant the world to me wanted nothing to do with me anymore?

I reached a park and sat down on one of the empty benches, burying my face in my hands. My chest felt tight, my breathing uneven. I never thought this would happen. I thought I was doing the right thing, keeping her away from the truth. I thought I was protecting her.

But all I did was push her away.

The sound of footsteps approaching made me lift my head slightly. At first, I thought it was just some stranger passing by, but then a familiar voice spoke.

"Aman."

I turned to see Jashan Phabi standing there, her face filled with concern. She was wrapped in a shawl, her arms crossed over her chest like she was bracing against the cold.

I looked away. "Phabi, please," I muttered. "I don't want to talk right now."

She sighed and sat down beside me. "I know," she said softly. "But I also know you, Aman. And if I leave you alone, you're just going to sit here all night, blaming yourself for everything."

I clenched my jaw. "Because it is my fault."

She didn't say anything right away. Instead, she placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. "Tell me what happened."

I let out a bitter laugh. "What's there to say? She found out, Phabi. And she hates me for it." I turned to her, my voice cracking. "You should've seen the way she looked at me. Like I was a stranger. Like I meant nothing to her."

Phabi's expression softened. "Aman... she's hurt. She feels betrayed. But that doesn't mean she stopped caring about you."

"Then why did she tell me to leave?" I whispered, my throat tightening.

"Because she needs time," she said gently. "You have to understand—when trust is broken, it's not easy to fix. Right now, she's overwhelmed. But that doesn't mean she won't ever forgive you."

I ran a hand through my hair, feeling completely helpless. "And what if she doesn't?"

Phabi sighed. "Then you fight for her. You show her that you regret what happened. That you still love her. But most importantly, you give her space to process everything."

I nodded, but deep down, fear gripped my heart. What if space only made her realize that she was better off without me?

Phabi squeezed my shoulder. "Come home, Aman. You can't fix anything tonight. You need to rest."

I hesitated, my eyes drifting back to the empty streets. Going home meant facing everyone, hearing their questions, their advice. I wasn't sure I could handle that right now. But staying here wouldn't change anything either.

After a long moment, I stood up. "Alright."

Phabi smiled softly and walked beside me as we made our way back. But no matter how many steps I took, the weight in my chest didn't lessen.

I had lost Prabh tonight.

And I didn't know if I'd ever get her back.