Ruh ki Thirkan

Chapter 43: The Cold War Begins

Ishika hadn’t realized how much the weight of Arav’s words would cling to her heart until she woke up the next morning. The stinging coldness in his voice, the way he had dismissed her like she was just another stranger, replayed in her mind like a broken record.

She stood in front of her mirror, touching the faint marks on her wrist—the aftermath of that heated confrontation with Arav days ago. She hadn’t realized he’d grabbed her so tightly, but now, the bruise had begun to fade, leaving only a dull ache behind. Much like the pain he’d caused her, it too would fade, eventually.

But the damage between them? That felt permanent.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, breaking her from her thoughts. It was Raj.

**Raj**: *Hey, haven’t seen you around much lately. Want to grab lunch?*

She sighed, typing a quick reply.

**Ishika**: *Can’t today. Catch up later?*

She had no energy for socializing. Between the ongoing campaign, her family business responsibilities, and the emotional whirlpool Arav had thrown her into, she felt drained.

*I can’t keep doing this…* she thought, running a hand through her hair. But the truth was, she didn’t know how to stop.

---

That afternoon, she arrived at the studio for another campaign meeting. Her team was already seated, but as always, her gaze instinctively sought out Arav.

He stood near the window, hands in his pockets, looking out with an air of indifference. His dark hair was tousled, as if he hadn’t bothered with the usual sharpness he presented. But his stance was rigid, cold.

Ishika sat down, quietly settling into her chair, trying to keep her distance—emotionally and physically. But her attempts to remain unnoticed failed when Arav’s gaze shifted to her, those sharp eyes narrowing slightly.

The air around them felt charged, as if the unsaid things between them were waiting to explode.

Throughout the meeting, Arav barely spoke. His voice, when he did contribute, was clipped, professional, and distant. He referred to her as “Miss Kapoor” in a way that sent chills down her spine. It was a clear message: *We are nothing more than business partners.*

Every time he said it, something inside Ishika twisted. She wanted to push back, to demand that he call her by her name like he used to. But the walls Arav had put up were impenetrable, and she wasn’t sure she had the strength to break them down anymore.

The meeting ended, and her team began to disperse. Arav stayed behind, flipping through some documents. Ishika hesitated by the door, part of her wanting to confront him, but another part of her screaming to just leave it alone.

*Don’t get pulled in again…* she warned herself, but her feet seemed to have a mind of their own.

“Arav,” she called softly.

He didn’t look up from his papers. “Is there something you need, Miss Kapoor?”

The way he said her surname like it was a barrier between them sent another wave of hurt crashing through her. Ishika swallowed, taking a step closer.

“We need to talk,” she said, her voice wavering.

He glanced up, his eyes hard. “About what?”

“About us.”

“There is no ‘us,’” he replied coldly, shuffling his papers as if her presence was nothing more than a distraction.

Ishika clenched her fists, her nails biting into her palms. “You can’t keep doing this, Arav. You can’t keep pushing me away—”