.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝕿𝖍𝖗𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖗 𝕯𝖆𝖗𝖐 𝕽𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖊 ‧₊˚ ⋅
The warm glow of the bedside lamp bathed the room in a golden hue as Myra sat cross-legged on the bed, a book resting on her lap. The faint sound of the city beyond their window provided a s...
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M Y R A
Two weeks had passed since Ruhaan walked out of my penthouse, and the air between us had thickened. Silence. An unbearable stillness. No calls. No texts. Not even an email. He had made his choice, just like before. But the thing with Ruhaan was that his absence wasn’t the end. It was calm before the storm, a temporary break that allowed me to catch my breath before he came crashing back into my life.
I spent the first week stewing in my anger and confusion, replaying every moment—every touch, every word, every damn look he’d thrown my way like I was the one who had been begging for him to come back. But by the end of the second week, something else started creeping in—something darker, something I didn’t want to acknowledge.
I missed him.
I hated that fact with every fiber of my being. Hated how my mind kept returning to him in the quiet moments, to the flashes of memories from years ago, when things were simpler. When I wasn’t a jaded woman with walls as thick as the city’s skyline. But there it was. My heart still had a place for him, and I was afraid that if I acknowledged it, I’d lose myself all over again.
It was a Sunday morning when the text finally came.
Ruhaan Sherawat: We need to talk.
I stared at the screen for what felt like an eternity. I could feel my pulse quicken, my hands tightening around my phone. There was a moment of hesitation, a moment where I could just delete it, forget it—let it die on its own.
But I couldn’t.
I tapped on the screen, fingers shaking as I typed out a response.
Myra: Talk about what?
I hit send, and the weight of that action settled over me like a heavy blanket. I could almost hear him laughing at my hesitation, at my need for control, but this time, I was prepared for whatever he threw my way.
It didn’t take long for the reply to come.
Ruhaan Sherawat: Not over text. I’ll come by in an hour.
The nerve of him. As if he had any right to walk into my life again.
But the words echoed in my head for the next hour, over and over again. We need to talk. How many times have we said that to each other, only for nothing to change? What was left to say? Has he really changed? Or was he just playing the same old game?
The doorbell rang exactly an hour later, the sound breaking through my thoughts like a splash of cold water. I took a deep breath, bracing myself.
When I opened the door, I didn’t know what to expect. Ruhaan stood there, as confident and imposing as ever. The same dark eyes, the same sharp jawline, the same unshakable presence that made the world bend to his will. But there was something different about him now. The way he stood there, hands shoved deep in his pockets, the faint lines on his face deeper than they had been two weeks ago.
It was almost as if the man who had walked out of my life was somehow... worn down.
I didn’t say anything. I just stood there, watching him, my heart thudding in my chest.
“You’re still pissed,” he said, his voice low but tinged with a hint of amusement, like he knew exactly how I was feeling.
I crossed my arms over my chest, leaning against the doorframe. “You think?”
Ruhaan’s lips twitched, but he didn’t smile. “Look, I know we don’t exactly have the best history, but we need to talk.”
“About what?” I asked, the words slipping out before I could stop myself. “About why you walked away and why you came back? Because I don’t need any more half-assed excuses, Ruhaan.”
He exhaled slowly, like he was weighing his words. “It’s not that simple.”
“Then make it simple,” I snapped, stepping back and gesturing for him to enter. “I don’t have time for games. I’m not the same woman you left behind.”
His eyes flickered with something—guilt? Regret? Whatever it was, I didn’t care.
Ruhaan stepped inside, and the room felt too small for both of us. His presence filled every corner, a tension hanging in the air like a storm waiting to break. He ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated.
“I’ve been busy,” he said, his voice almost defensive. “But that’s not why I’m here.”
“I’m waiting,” I said, not in the mood for his half-truths.
He glanced around the room, and then his gaze landed on me, sharp and intense. “You’re not the only one who’s changed, Myra. You think I don’t know what I did? You think I don’t see the damage I caused? I don’t expect you to forgive me. Hell, I don’t even expect you to listen to me. But there’s something I need to get off my chest. Something I should’ve said two years ago.”
My heart skipped a beat, the walls I’d so carefully built around myself cracking with each word he spoke. I wasn’t ready for this. Not after everything. But I wasn’t sure I could stop it either.
Ruhaan’s eyes softened for just a second before he locked them on mine again. “I came back because… because I never stopped thinking about you. And because there’s something I need to fix, Myra. Something bigger than us.”
I couldn’t breathe. The words hung between us, impossible to ignore. Something bigger than us?
“What the hell are you talking about?” I asked, my voice trembling now.
He looked away, clearly grappling with whatever demons he had brought with him. “I’m not here for your forgiveness. Not yet, anyway. But you deserve the truth. The whole truth.”
And in that moment, I knew—this wasn’t just about us anymore. Whatever Ruhaan was about to tell me, it wasn’t just about the past. It was about something that would change everything.
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