Lost but Not Forgotten

PART 3

"Did you... mention him?" Anushka asked, pulling away just enough to look into Virat's eyes.

Virat nodded, his throat tightening. "I had to. I couldn't let my last match go without remembering him. But..." He shook his head. "It's like he's gone for good. We haven't heard a single word from him or Ritika. And Sammy—"

Anushka sighed, her expression softening. "I miss them too, Virat. Rohit was... he was like a brother to me. And now, after all these years, the guilt is just... it's suffocating."

Before Virat could respond, the sound of footsteps caught their attention. Their daughter, Vamika, now a striking young lady, stood in the doorway. Her face was calm, but there was a quiet understanding in her eyes.

"You're talking about Rohit Chachu again, aren't you?" she asked softly, her voice steady but filled with the weight of years of silence.

Virat blinked, taken aback by her calmness. He hadn't expected her to bring up Rohit, not like this. "Vamika..."

She walked closer, folding her arms. "You never talk about him around Akaay," she continued, glancing down the hall where her younger brother, Akaay, was likely asleep. "I know why. You don't want him to know what happened. But Dad... I've known about Rohit Chachu for a long time. I just never asked because I could see it hurt both of you."

Virat swallowed, emotions swirling inside him. Vamika had always been perceptive, too much so at times. He had tried to protect her from the truth, but she had seen through the cracks in their carefully guarded lives.

"You never met him," Virat said, his voice low. "Not really."

"But I've heard enough stories," Vamika replied, her eyes softening. "From you, from Mom, from the team. And I know he was family. I just wish you could stop blaming yourselves. You didn't know the truth back then."

Virat turned his head, his mind clouded with guilt. "We should've trusted him. I should've... Mahi Bhai should've..." His words trailed off, and for a moment, a shadow crossed his face.

Anushka reached for his hand, her touch grounding him. "You both made a mistake, but you were manipulated. So was Mahi Bhai. None of you could've seen it coming. But you can't let it keep destroying you, Virat. Rohit wouldn't have wanted that."

Virat exhaled, closing his eyes briefly. Anushka was right, but it didn't change the fact that, after all these years, the bond they had with Rohit had shattered beyond repair. And it wasn't just his family that was suffering.

Dhoni, the man who had once been a pillar of strength, had retreated into the shadows. He hadn't been seen by the media for months, refusing to show his face or make public appearances. The guilt of not trusting Rohit—his "first kiddo"—had consumed him, isolating him in his own grief.

Virat had tried reaching out, but every attempt had been met with silence. Mahi was the one person who could have understood what Virat was going through, but he, too, was drowning in guilt. And now, twenty years later, the scars of that betrayal had left them all fractured and incomplete.

Vamika's voice broke the silence once more. "And Akaay... he doesn't know, does he?"

Virat shook his head. "No. He only knows that Rohit used to play for India. He doesn't know why he left. I didn't want him to grow up with that kind of burden."

Anushka glanced toward Akaay's room, her eyes softening. "He's becoming a cricketer himself. The more he steps into the world of cricket, the more he'll hear about Rohit. You can't shield him forever."

Virat looked down, his heart heavy. "I know. But how do I tell him that the man he looks up to, the man I wronged... was once his family? That we were the ones who pushed him away?"

Vamika placed a hand on his arm, her touch gentle yet firm. "You tell him the truth. Because Akaay deserves to know what family means. He deserves to know what happened, so that one day, maybe... he can help bring Rohit Chachu back."

The words struck Virat, and for a moment, hope flickered in his chest. But it was fleeting, crushed by the weight of the years that had passed and the silence that had grown between them and Rohit.

Anushka squeezed his hand, her eyes filled with determination. "We'll find him one day, Virat. We'll make things right."

Virat nodded, but in the back of his mind, the doubt lingered. Rohit had been gone for so long, and with each passing day, the chances of finding him seemed to slip further away.

As he looked at his family—his grown daughter, his emerging cricketer son, and his wife who had stood by him through it all—he couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. Their family was incomplete. And no matter how much they tried to move forward, the absence of Rohit left a void that nothing could fill.

The King had retired, but without the Hitman, the kingdom felt broken.

And somewhere out there, far away from the world that had once been his, Rohit Sharma remained lost to them all.

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In a small, dimly lit room somewhere in the heart of a distant country, the soft glow of the television illuminated the face of a man who once ruled the cricketing world. ROHIT SHARMA sat still, his eyes fixed on the screen, watching the farewell match of the man he had once considered his closest friend, his brother—Virat Kohli.

Tears welled up in Rohit's eyes as the sight of Virat standing on the pitch, surrounded by his teammates, played out before him. The crowd cheered, the cameras flashed, and the commentators spoke of Virat's legendary career. But for Rohit, it wasn't just the end of a cricketer's journey. It was the end of a promise they had once made to each other.

Years ago, when their bond was unshakable and their friendship was the stuff of legends, they had joked about retiring together—leaving the sport hand-in-hand, as two legends who had given everything to their country. But those dreams had shattered the day the false accusations were leveled against Rohit. The day his life fell apart.

Now, as Virat walked off the field for the final time, the promise of a shared ending was nothing more than a distant memory.

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