YOU AND ME

Amina

The sound of footsteps echoes down the corridor, drawing my attention as I sit on the cold bench of my cell. The heavy door creaks open, and my heart leaps at the sight of familiar faces—Rohan, Amira, and Raj. Their expressions are a mix of concern and support, a lifeline in this sea of uncertainty.

“Hey, Amina,” Rohan says softly, stepping forward. His eyes are filled with worry. “We’ve been so worried about you.”

“I’m okay,” I reply, forcing a smile, though the weight of my situation feels unbearable. I can’t let them see how much this is affecting me.

Amira’s voice trembles slightly as she adds, “We believe in you. You didn’t do this.”

I nod, grateful for their presence. “I know. I just wish I could prove it.”

Raj leans against the wall, crossing his arms. “Ayush is fighting for you. He’s been relentless, Amina. He won’t stop until you’re out.”

The mention of Ayush sends a wave of warmth through me. Despite the pain between us, I know he’s out there, fighting harder than anyone, following his heart. I wish I could express how much that means to me, but the words catch in my throat.

“Is he... is he doing okay?” I ask hesitantly, fearing the answer.

“He’s been consumed by this,” Rohan replies. “He’s gathered evidence, met with Vikram, and he’s not letting anyone get in his way, especially Kavya.”

As I listen, a flicker of hope ignites within me. Maybe we can turn this around.

In the following days, I watch as the court proceedings unfold. Ayush stands tall, determined, presenting evidence that Vikram gathered. Each piece—text messages, surveillance footage, witness testimonies—paints a clearer picture of Kavya’s deceit. She’d poisoned Grandma, framing me for the fall.

The courtroom buzzes with tension as Ayush passionately argues my innocence. “Amina loved my grandmother. She would never harm her,” he declares, his voice unwavering. “The evidence clearly shows Kavya’s involvement. She is the one who deserves to be in this cell, not Amina!”

Kavya shifts uncomfortably, her facade cracking under the weight of Ayush’s accusations. The atmosphere is electric, and I hold my breath, praying that the truth will finally be revealed.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the judge delivers the verdict. “In light of the new evidence, I find the defendant, Amina, not guilty. The court is adjourned.”

Joy bursts through me like sunlight breaking the dawn. I can’t believe it—I’m free. As the gavel slams down, the weight of despair lifts, and I’m overwhelmed with gratitude.

Ayush rushes to me, a mixture of relief and joy lighting up his face. He pulls me into his arms, and for a moment, everything else fades away. “I knew you were innocent,” he whispers, his breath warm against my ear.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” I reply, my voice thick with emotion.

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” he says, pulling back to meet my gaze. There’s a flicker of something between us, a connection that transcends the pain we’ve endured.

As my family surrounds me, their support envelops me like a warm embrace.

---

It’s been one day since I was released from prison, but the weight of betrayal still clings to me. I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, the moonlight casting shadows around the room. Ayush is next to me, his arm draped over my waist, but the warmth that once comforted me now feels suffocating.

As I shift away, his fingers press into my skin, causing a rush of resentment to bubble up. I gently push his hand aside, careful not to wake him. I can’t stay here. I can’t look at him and pretend everything is fine. My heart aches with the realization that when I needed him the most, he chose to doubt me.

With silent determination, I slip out of bed and start packing my things. The soft rustle of fabric is the only sound breaking the night’s stillness. Each item I fold represents a part of me I’m leaving behind, a life I can no longer share with him. The thought of staying feels like a trap; I can’t risk being hurt again. Trust, once shattered, is nearly impossible to rebuild, and I don’t want to face the possibility of more betrayal.

---

Before I can slip out into the night, I know I need to confront Kavya. I make my way to the jail, my heart racing with every step. As I enter the visitation room, Kavya sits there, a smug smile plastered on her face.

“Amina, back so soon?” she says, feigning innocence.

“Cut the crap, Kavya. I just want to ask you something,” I demand, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “You barely knew Ayush, yet you fought with me, connived with my enemies, and even reached the extent of killing my grandmother. Why?”

At first, she laughs, a high-pitched sound that echoes in the sterile room. “At first, I wasn’t into this silly game at all. But Aisha, my soon-to-be mother-in-law, made a great offer. If I destroyed your marriage, my life would be settled.”

“You’re already rich,” I retort, disbelief coloring my voice.

“Rich? My family is wealthy, yes, but have you seen the Sharma? I wanted the money, the power, the influence. I needed that. I wanted everything that you had,” she replies, her eyes gleaming with greed.

“Yet, in the end, I started to fall for him slowly,” she continues, her tone mockingly sweet. “You think you’re the only one who can fall? No, I fell for your husband too. I made it my greatest mission to get him. He’s the man I love now.”

“Spare me, Kavya. You didn’t plan this alone. You’re clever, but not that smart,” I shoot back, my confidence growing.

She leans back, her expression one of amusement. “Yeah, I did it with someone. But I’ll never tell you. Just pray I don’t get out of this prison. Because when I do, I will stop at nothing to get Ayush. I will kill anyone—absolutely anyone—who gets near him.”

Her words send a chill down my spine, but I refuse to show fear. I turn on my heel and leave, the weight of her threat lingering in my mind.

---

Back home in Africa, I’m welcomed by my father, who wraps me in a tight embrace. “Amina, we were so worried about you!” he says, relief washing over his face.

I share the details of my ordeal, my voice trembling as I recount my time in prison and the betrayal I faced. My family listens intently, their expressions shifting from concern to anger at what I endured.

“We understand, Amina. Take your time to heal,” my mother assures me, her voice soothing.

But it doesn’t take long for my resolve to be tested. Just two days after my return, I glance out the window to see Ayush standing outside our house, his figure silhouetted against the bright sun.

“No! You’re not letting him in,” my father declares, standing firm. My mother nods, her expression fierce. “He hurt you, Amina. You need to focus on yourself.”