A tale of love ,
A tale of healing ,
A tale of trust ,
A tale of discoveries ,
Nothing changed, yet she felt the loss,
But you can't lose something that never was yours
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Started - 11th April 2024
1K reads- 3rd...
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Riyan's POV
The second Shri stormed out, slamming the door behind her, Riyan felt the world shift beneath him.
For a moment, he just stood there, frozen, staring at the closed door like an idiot. His chest was heaving, his pulse thundering in his ears, and his mind was caught in a whirlwind of emotions.
He had messed up.
No-he had royally messed up.
The image of her tear-filled eyes, the heartbreak in her voice as she said,
"I thought you were better than Sid, Riyan... but no."
It hit him like a gut punch, knocking the air from his lungs.
He had never, not once, thought he'd see that look in her eyes.
Not because of him.
His heart pounded as he snapped out of his daze and rushed back into the house. His hands were shaking as he grabbed his car keys from the table, almost knocking over a water bottle in the process. He didn't care.
The only thing that mattered was catching up to her.
As he ran out the door and toward his car, his mind was racing a thousand miles a second. The words he had thrown at her, the accusations, the sheer stupidity of believing a random, clearly edited picture-it all played in his head like a nightmare on repeat.
How could I fucking do that to her?
Shri-his Shri-the woman he loved more than anything, the one person who had been nothing but honest and real with him, and he had doubted her.
His hands tightened around the steering wheel as he turned on the engine and pressed his foot on the pedal.
He needed to find her. Now.
But as he sped down the road, trying to find her car which was nowhere in sight , another thought struck him.
I don't deserve her.
It was something he had always known, but never had it felt more obvious than now.
Shri was a goddamn force of nature-kind, brilliant, passionate, and so full of love that it scared him sometimes. And he? He was a jealous, possessive idiot who let his insecurities cloud his judgment.
He gritted his teeth, gripping the wheel harder.
They had dreams together. They had plans.
Late-night talks about their future, whispered promises under the sheets, shared fantasies of having a home together-one where they'd wake up tangled in each other, where their mornings would start with sleepy kisses and their nights would end with laughter.
She had once told him that she wanted a house with a big balcony, where they could sit with their coffee and talk about anything and everything.
He had told her he wanted kids. Two, maybe three. A noisy house full of love and chaos, where their children would run around, filling their lives with endless laughter.
