A Second Chance ( Gum Hai Kisi Ke Pyaar Mai )

3

My meeting finally wrapped up around 9 PM. Somehow, without consciously deciding, I found myself driving toward our old beach house. Now, as the clock edges toward midnight, I stand in front of the gate, torn between stepping inside and turning back.

The full moon bathes the surroundings in an ethereal glow, illuminating every detail with an almost surreal clarity. The house looks the same as it always did, yet it feels different—haunted by memories and ghosts of the past.

I pause, my hand hovering over the gate latch. Thoughts of my cousin flood my mind. My feelings toward him are complex and tangled. Despite everything, I don't hate him. Even though his actions led to Ishanji’s death, I can't bring myself to despise him. I’ve seen firsthand how hatred consumes and destroys, just as my uncle's animosity toward my father shattered our lives and led us to this miserable present.

Inhaling deeply, I murmur to myself, "Hatred only breeds more destruction." My voice is barely a whisper, lost in the gentle rustle of the night breeze. “I can’t let that happen.”

I try to convince myself that refusing to hate my cousin is a conscious choice, a way to break this painful cycle. But forgiveness—that's another matter entirely. His actions are unforgivable, and the pain of losing Ishaanji is a wound that will never heal.

Still, standing here, I feel a strange pull, as if the house itself is urging me to step inside, to confront the memories and perhaps find some semblance of peace.

With a deep breath, I push open the gate and step onto the path leading to the beach house. The sound of the ocean, rhythmic and soothing, accompanies me as I walk. The moonlight casts long shadows, turning the familiar landscape into a place of reflection and introspection.

Reaching the front door, after putting the password in the door lock, I hesitate for a moment, my hand resting on the worn handle. "Here goes nothing," I whisper, turning the knob and stepping inside.

The air inside is cool and carries the faint scent of salt and aged wood. Every corner of the house is filled with memories—some joyful, some painful. I move through the rooms slowly, letting the past wash over me, trying to make sense of the tangled web of emotions within.

In the living room, I pause by the old family photo, my fingers brushing over the glass. The faces staring back at me are younger, happier, untouched by the tragedies that would later unfold.

After some time, I started walking towards the tree, which was planted by my uncle in his memory. He had died in that incident, and I never thought to visit this place—until now. But today, after Uncle mentioned it for the first time in years, my feet found their way here, in front of the gate of our beach house.

Uncle said he might have found peace now, but does he deserve it? Because of his hate, a father and a mother lost their elder son, and a brother lost his beloved brother. Slowly, I walked forward and found myself standing in front of the tree. It looked like Uncle had cleaned the surroundings today, as it hadn't been tended to for years. There was still some dirt on the sides, but it was mostly clean. In the moonlight, I could see a bundle of yellow roses—his favorite flowers—placed carefully near the roots. Next to them were two red roses, my favorites.

A tear slipped down my cheek, and I quickly wiped it away, looking up to stop myself from breaking down completely. The sky was clear, the full moon glowing brightly above. I tried to hold back the flood of emotions, but memories of the past overwhelmed me. When did things start to get so messed up? We were living our normal lives, but suddenly everything took an ugly turn.

"I wonder," I whispered to the night, "if I had known the truth back then, if I could have cleared up all the misunderstandings, would we have had a happy life now?"

But then, if Dada hadn’t tried to kill me, Ishaanji would never have come to save me. I wouldn’t have found his diary or learned about his feelings for me.

"Is it worth it?" I asked aloud, my voice barely audible over the sound of the waves crashing against the cliff. "If none of this had happened, at least he would still be alive."

I sighed deeply, feeling the weight of the complicated web of events that had led to this moment. "Things are so complicated."

As I was lost in my thoughts, I suddenly heard noises coming from the edge of the cliff. I stepped forward and saw a figure teetering dangerously near the edge, as if ready to jump. I ran and grabbed the person just in time. As I looked closer, I realized it was my uncle.

"Savi," he called my name with a hiccup. The smell of alcohol on his breath and his slurred speech made it clear he was drunk. "Savi, Sartaj is call..ing me. He’s fe...eling lonely..."

He managed to say this in his drunken state and tried to run towards the edge again. "You’ll fall down. Let me take you inside the house," I urged, trying to stop him. Suddenly, he collapsed to the ground and started crying. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Savi. Everything got ruined because of me." He beat his chest, wailing, "My son, my son!"

Tears began to fall from my eyes as well. I tried to lift him to his feet, desperate to move him away from the dangerous edge. In the struggle, my foot slipped, and I found myself plummeting into the cold water below.

The shock of the icy sea enveloped me. I felt myself sinking, my body growing heavy and my movements sluggish. I don't know how to swim, so I knew it wouldn’t take long. Is this the end of my depressing and lonely life? Will I finally meet Ishaanji in the afterlife? Will he be able to confess the feelings he never got the chance to express while he was alive? Will he still have the same feelings for me? Or will I meet Dada in the afterlife? Will I be able to clear his misunderstandings there?

My thoughts raced as I sank deeper into the water. What will happen to Aai, Baba, Rajat and Nehmat? They have all become part of my life. Losing me, too, after losing Ishaanji could break them.As I continued to drown, I looked up. I could still see the moonlight filtering through the water, casting an eerie glow.

Suddenly, I saw a figure swimming toward me. The figure grabbed my hand and began to pull me up. As I looked closer, I realized it was Ishaanji. Ishaan Bhosale. Am I finally dead?

...........

A/N

Here's a long chapter!

I've released all the three chapters of my story that were previously published as BTS fanfiction and recently as Seon Jae and Im Sol's story.

I'd love to hear your thoughts—please leave a comment letting me know what you think.

If you enjoyed the chapters, don't forget to hit the vote button.

Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story.

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