Love Me Again

Chapter 25

Ishan jolted awake, his heart pounding in his chest, the remnants of the dream lingering in his mind like a thick fog. His breath came in shallow, rapid bursts as he tried to shake off the images that had just assaulted him.

He had seen Shubman, his face contorted with anger and grief, holding Ayansh tightly against his chest. The words that Shubman had hurled at him in the dream echoed in his ears, each one a dagger aimed straight at his heart.

"Because of you, I lost everything! My family... my child..." Shubman’s voice had been laced with so much pain, so much hatred, that it made Ishan’s chest tighten even now, awake in the silence of his room.

Ishan sat up, his body trembling as the tears he had shed in the dream threatened to spill over into his waking world. He tried to push the dream away, but the emotions it had stirred in him were too strong to ignore. He could still feel the overwhelming guilt and confusion, the desperate need to understand why Shubman had been so angry, why he had been crying.

In the dream, Ishan had reached out for Ayansh, needing to hold him, to comfort him—or maybe to find comfort in him. But Shubman had pulled Ayansh away, refusing to let Ishan touch him, and that rejection had torn through Ishan like a physical wound.

“What baby were we talking about?” Ishan whispered to himself, his voice hoarse and shaky. “Why was Shubman blaming me?”

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to make sense of the fragments of memory and emotion that the dream had dredged up. He knew Ayansh was Shubman’s son—their son, his mind corrected—but the way Shubman had spoken in the dream made it sound like there had been another child.

one that was no longer here.

His thoughts were a jumble of questions and fears. He didn’t remember anything about another baby. As far as he knew, Ayansh was the only child. And yet, the dream had felt so real, so visceral, that it left him doubting what he thought he knew.

Ishan wrapped his arms around himself, trying to stave off the chill that had settled into his bones.

He knew he had lost six years of his life, a chasm of time that had swallowed so much of his past, including the memories of how he and Shubman had come to be together.

But he had thought that the gap in his memory was just that—a gap, a blank space. He hadn’t realized that it might be filled with things he didn’t want to remember, things that could hurt as much as the dream he’d just had.

Tears welled up in his eyes, and he buried his face in his hands, feeling lost and alone.

He wanted to understand what had happened, why Shubman had been so angry, why the dream had left him feeling so hollow and broken. But there were no answers, only the emptiness where his memories should have been.

As he sat there, the early morning light just beginning to filter through the curtains, Ishan realized that he couldn’t go on like this. He couldn’t keep stumbling through the days, pretending that everything was fine when he was haunted by fragments of a past he didn’t understand. He needed to know the truth, no matter how painful it might be.

But the truth seemed just out of reach.

He had no idea where to start, no idea how to bridge the gap between the Ishan who had once lived that life and the Ishan who sat here now, trying to piece together the shattered fragments of his identity.

Wiping the tears from his face, Ishan resolved to find out what had really happened.

He would talk to Shubman, confront him about the dream, about the accusations, about the baby they had spoken of. He knew it wouldn’t be easy—Shubman’s coldness and distance were barriers he wasn’t sure he could break through—but he had to try. He had to know why his own mind was tormenting him with these flashbacks, why Shubman’s pain felt so palpable even in his dreams.

For now, though, he forced himself to take a deep breath and try to calm the storm of emotions inside him. The answers would come, one way or another. But until then, he had to keep moving forward, for Ayansh’s sake if nothing else.

With a heavy heart, Ishan lay back down, pulling the covers over himself.

Sleep wouldn’t come easily, but he needed to rest, to regain the strength he would need for whatever lay ahead.

As he closed his eyes, the image of Shubman’s tear-streaked face flashed before him once more, and a quiet sob escaped his lips.

What had happened between them? What had he done to make Shubman hate him so much? The questions haunted him, lingering in the quiet of the room as he finally drifted into a restless sleep.

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