𝐁𝐇𝐀𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐀 - 𝐃𝐀𝐖𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐉𝐈𝐘𝐄

SHASHVATA

I unlocked the door and stepped inside, locking it behind me with a soft click. As I slipped off my shoes, I felt the weight of the day begin to lift. I poured myself a glass of fine whiskey, letting its warmth settle into my hand. Unbuttoning my shirt, I picked up the glass and stared at my phone's wallpaper, a deep sigh escaping my lips. After so many years, I had finally seen her again. It felt like waking from a long, dark dream, with my solace now just a wall away.

I was lost in the quiet admiration of her on my screen, each sip of whiskey deepening the connection between memory and desire. The image of her face, so close yet so far, was all I needed in that moment. But the stillness was shattered by the sudden ringing of my phone, pulling me out of my reverie. Annoyance flickered through me, a disruption I hadn't wanted.

The name flashing on the screen was all too familiar, my best friend, my sister's soon-to-be husband, and the brother of the woman I would soon call my wife. The tangled web of our relationships brought a dark, amused chuckle to my lips as I imagined the many roles he played in my life.

I answered the call with a slight edge in my voice, letting out a sigh before speaking, "What's your problem?" The frustration wasn't truly directed at him, it never was. It was the kind of irritation that only comes from the closeness of friendship, the kind where words don't need to be softened, where honesty doesn't need to be dressed up.

As I listened to his blabbering on the other end of the line, I muted the call, frustration simmering beneath the surface. I drained the last of my whiskey and slipped into the bathroom, the cool touch of the shower water washing away the tight knots of tension in my shoulders. I dressed quickly, my mind racing as I emerged into the garden area, leaning against a pillar and trying to steady my thoughts.

The silence of the night was punctuated only by the distant hum of the city, but as I stood there, my heart leaped into my throat. I saw her, her figure hunched over in my younger brother's embrace, tears streaming down her face in a raw, unrestrained display of anguish. My mind swirled with questions. Was she okay? What had caused this? My eyes were locked on her, desperately seeking to pierce through the veil of her distress and reach her soul.

A pang of jealousy pierced my heart like a cruel blade. Once, she would have turned to me, seeking solace in my arms at the slightest hint of discomfort. But now, she seemed to have shut me out, finding comfort in someone else's embrace. The change was jarring and painful, like a cold wind ripping through what I had thought was a safe haven.

My grip on the phone tightened as a wave of possessiveness surged within me. Without thinking, I began to move towards her, the soft, tender look in my eyes turning into something darker, more intense. Each step felt heavy with the weight of my emotions. Just as I was about to reach her, Aaditya's voice broke through the haze, asking me to come to him. The command, spoken with an edge of urgency, pulled me back from the precipice of my raw, unrestrained emotions.

I turned away, the conflict within me gnawing at my insides. The sight of her tears and the warmth she was sharing with someone else ignited a fiery jealousy within me. I felt a deep, painful ache, the kind that comes from watching someone you love lean on another when you long to be the one they turn to. The devil within me roared, a fierce and bitter response to seeing her in pain and yet not being the one to offer comfort. The jealousy burned, a fierce reminder of the love and the hurt that had become tangled in my heart.

As we sat on the terrace, reminiscing about the good old days, laughter echoed around us. Aaditya was mimicking our professors, and Preeti and Diya were laughing so hard they could barely breathe. But my mind was elsewhere, consumed by the memory of her tears. Why was she crying earlier? Was something wrong? Was she in pain? Did someone say something to hurt her? My heart twisted at the thought, a gnawing fear that she might be in love with Atharva. The longing pain I felt for her, was it for him that she felt it?