Ruh ki Thirkan

Chapter 28: Torn by Fire

Arav stormed out of the studio, his heart pounding, his fists clenched. He couldn’t explain it, not even to himself. The moment he saw Ishika, ignoring him, dancing like he wasn’t even there—something inside him snapped.

It wasn’t just the dance. It wasn’t even her defiance. It was the way she was with *him*. Raj.

Every time he saw them together, something unfamiliar and ugly twisted in his gut. That laugh she shared with Raj. That easy, carefree smile she gave him, one that she never directed toward Arav. Not anymore.

The thought alone was enough to send his blood boiling again. How could she laugh so freely with someone else, while she deliberately shut him out? He wasn’t sure why it mattered so much. They were colleagues, nothing more. Yet the sight of her bonding with Raj was like a red-hot needle jabbing his skin.

He made his way to his private office, slamming the door behind him. The silence of the room did nothing to quiet the roaring in his head. Pacing back and forth, Arav felt trapped in his own confusion. He wasn’t supposed to care. *Why did he care?*

He slammed his fist onto his desk, feeling the sharp sting of pain shoot through his knuckles. But it wasn’t enough to drown out the turmoil inside him. He hated this. Hated how she got under his skin, how she had this power over him—something no one else had. Not in years.

There was a knock on the door. Arav stiffened, knowing it could only be one person. But he didn’t move. He wasn’t ready to face her. He needed space, time to figure out what the hell was going on in his mind.

Another knock.

*Damn it,* he thought, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“Come in,” he barked, not bothering to hide the anger in his voice.

Ishika stepped inside, her expression unreadable, her shoulders stiff as she approached him cautiously. She was doing that thing again—keeping her distance, like he was a bomb about to go off. In a way, he supposed he was.

“What is it?” he asked, his tone sharp.

“I just wanted to talk about the routine. I—” she started, her voice softer than usual, but Arav cut her off before she could finish.

“No, you didn’t,” he said, stepping closer to her, his voice low and controlled, like a predator closing in on its prey. “You came to give me some excuse. To act like everything’s fine. But nothing’s fine, Ishika. Nothing.”

She blinked, taken aback by the intensity of his words. Her lips parted as if she wanted to argue, but she didn’t. Instead, she stood there, looking at him with those wide eyes that he hated so much right now—because they stirred something in him, something he couldn’t control.

“What do you want from me, Arav?” she whispered, her voice almost trembling. “I’m just trying to—”

“To what? Ignore me? Shut me out?” His words were biting, but underneath them, there was a rawness he couldn’t hide. “You’ve been deliberately avoiding me since yesterday. Do you think I don’t notice?”

“I’m not avoiding you,” she insisted, though her voice lacked conviction. “I’m just trying to focus on my work, like you said.”

Arav let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Work? That’s what you think this is about?”

Her brows furrowed in confusion. “Isn’t it?”

He couldn’t take it anymore. The lie, the charade—it was too much. The truth was, he didn’t care about the routine or her performance anymore. What he cared about was the fact that she was slipping away from him, inch by inch, every time she smiled at Raj, every time she avoided his gaze.

The jealousy that had been festering inside him for days finally bubbled over.

“I see the way you look at him,” Arav muttered, taking another step toward her, his eyes burning with something fierce and dangerous. “Raj.”

Ishika’s face went pale. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb with me.” His voice grew harsher as he closed the distance between them, towering over her. He could feel his pulse hammering in his throat. “You think I don’t see it? You spend all your time with him. Laughing, talking, like he’s the only one who matters. You think I don’t notice?”

Her eyes widened, and for a second, she looked genuinely taken aback. “Arav, that’s not—”

But Arav wasn’t listening anymore. His anger had taken over, blinding him to anything but the rage and jealousy swirling inside his chest.

He grabbed her wrist, pulling her closer with a force that made her gasp. The touch was firm, almost too rough, and he saw her wince at the pressure. But he didn’t let go. He couldn’t.

“What’s going on between you and Raj?” he demanded, his voice thick with accusation, his grip tightening. “Tell me.”

“Nothing,” Ishika shot back, her voice shaking now, though she tried to sound firm. “There’s nothing between us, Arav.”

“Liar.”

Her lips trembled, and for the first time, he saw something flicker in her eyes—fear, confusion, maybe even hurt. It cut through him like a knife, but he didn’t let go. He couldn’t back down now.

“I don’t know what you think is happening,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, “but Raj is just a friend. That’s all.”

“A friend?” Arav repeated, his voice dripping with bitterness. “You expect me to believe that?”

“Yes!” she insisted, her voice rising with frustration. “Why are you doing this? Why are you—”

“Because I can’t stand it,” Arav snapped, his voice raw with emotion. “I can’t stand seeing you with him. I can’t stand you acting like I don’t exist. Like I don’t matter.”

For a moment, the room fell into complete silence. Arav’s words hung in the air, heavy and raw. He could see the shock in Ishika’s eyes, the way her breath caught in her throat.

The weight of his confession hit him like a tidal wave. He’d said too much. He’d revealed too much.

He finally let go of her wrist, his chest heaving as he stepped back, the heat of the moment still burning in his veins. Ishika rubbed her wrist, where his grip had left a faint red mark, her eyes locked on him in disbelief.

“I—” Arav opened his mouth to say something, to explain himself, but the words wouldn’t come.

He turned his back on her, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He couldn’t face her. Not now. Not after everything he’d just said. The anger, the jealousy, the raw vulnerability—it was all too much.

“Go,” he muttered, his voice hoarse. “Just… go.”

He didn’t turn around to see if she left. He just stood there, staring at the floor, the weight of his own emotions pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket.

What had he done?

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Lots of Love
-Your Author 🌼