YOU AND ME

Ayush

I don’t know what day it is anymore. It’s been weeks, maybe months—I’m not sure. Time doesn’t matter to me, not without her. The world is a blur of days and nights that don’t make any sense. The house, which was once full of life, is now suffocating. The walls feel like they’re closing in, trapping me in a space too small to breathe.

I sit on the edge of my bed, staring at the floor, my mind drifting. It feels like I’m sinking deeper every day. Like I’m drowning. Everything inside me is shattered, broken into pieces too small to put back together. The man I was is gone—buried under the weight of losing her.

I look at myself in the mirror across the room, and I barely recognize the person staring back. My eyes are hollow, bloodshot from the lack of sleep and the endless tears I’ve shed when no one’s around. The beard I haven’t bothered to shave is growing wild, and my clothes hang loosely on my body. I’ve stopped caring about how I look, about anything, really. Nothing matters if Amina’s not here.

I can’t even understand it. How could she stop loving me? How could someone who was my everything just… walk away like that? The love we had—how could she say it didn’t mean anything anymore?

My chest tightens, and I feel the tears burning in my eyes again. It’s pathetic, I know. I’m a grown man, and yet here I am, crying like a child because the woman I love left me. I clench my fists, trying to stop the flood of emotions, but it’s no use. I’m not strong enough for this.

A soft knock on the door pulls me from my thoughts. I quickly wipe my face, trying to pull myself together before anyone sees me like this. It’s probably Raj or Rohan again. They’ve been trying—trying to pull me out of this black hole I’ve fallen into. But they don’t understand. No one does.

“Come in,” I mutter, my voice hoarse.

The door creaks open, and Raj steps in, his face full of concern. He’s seen me like this too many times. Too many days of watching me fall apart, trying to hold me together.

“You okay?” he asks, though I know he can already see the answer.

I shake my head, unable to speak, because what’s the point in lying? I’m not okay. I haven’t been okay since she left.

Raj comes over and sits beside me on the bed, his hand on my shoulder. “You’ve got to stop doing this to yourself, Ayush. I know it hurts, but… you can’t keep going on like this.”

I look down at the floor, my jaw clenched tight. I can’t even bring myself to argue. He’s right. But I don’t know how to stop. Every day without her is another knife in my chest.

“She doesn’t love me anymore, Raj,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “How am I supposed to move on from that?”

Raj sighs, his grip on my shoulder tightening. “I don’t believe that for a second. Neither does Rohan. We all know what you two had was real. There’s more to this than you know.”

I shake my head. “Then why did she say it? Why did she leave?”

He doesn’t have an answer for that. No one does. They all try to reassure me, but I can’t shake the feeling that it’s over. That Amina’s really gone.

Raj stays with me for a while, and eventually, Rohan joins us. They sit with me in silence, like they’re afraid if they leave, I’ll disappear into myself completely. I appreciate it. I do. But at the same time, nothing they say or do will change the fact that Amina’s gone. That she told me she doesn’t love me anymore.

The rest of the family is just as lost. Amira, Rohan’s mother, has been trying to hold everything together, but even she’s different now. She loved Amina like a daughter, just like the rest of the family. We were all close, all bonded, and now everything feels broken. Amira doesn’t talk about Amina much, but I know it’s hurting her too.

The house feels wrong. It’s too quiet, too cold without her here. No one laughs anymore. No one smiles. Even Preeta seems different—like the light in the house dimmed when Amina walked out the door.

There’s a knock at the front door downstairs, but I barely register it. I hear Preeta’s voice as she goes to answer, but I don’t move. I can’t bring myself to care about who’s at the door, because it’s not her. It’ll never be her again.

Then I hear Preeta’s voice, her tone different. Urgent. “Ayush… you need to come here.”

I frown, my heart skipping a beat. There’s something in her voice that makes me uneasy. I push myself up from the bed, my legs heavy as I walk out into the hallway.

When I reach the living room, my heart stops.

Amina is standing in the doorway, next to my father.

I freeze, unable to believe what I’m seeing. She looks the same—beautiful, even with the sadness in her eyes. My heart lurches in my chest, a mix of hope and fear swirling inside me. Is this real? Is she really here?

“Ayush,” she says softly, her voice trembling.

I can’t move. I can’t speak. All I can do is stare at her, my mind racing, my heart pounding in my chest. Why is she here?

My father steps forward, his face serious but filled with regret. “Ayush, there’s something you need to know. Amina didn’t leave because she stopped loving you.”

I blink, confused, my mind spinning. “What… what are you talking about?”

My father glances at Amina, then back at me. “Your mother… she blackmailed Amina into leaving. She blackmailed me too. She threatened to tell you a secret I’ve been keeping for years. Amina left because she thought it was the only way to protect you.”

I stare at him, my heart pounding in my ears. “What secret?”

His voice is thick with shame. “Years ago… I had an affair. There’s another family out there, Ayush. You have a half-brother. Your mother found out and used it to push Amina away.”

I feel like the ground is collapsing under my feet. “You… had an affair?”

He nods, his eyes full of regret. “I did. And I’m sorry. I should have told you. But your mother used it to tear everything apart.”

I look at Amina, my chest tight. “Is this true?”

She nods, tears streaming down her face. “I never stopped loving you, Ayush. I left because I thought I had to. I thought it was the only way to keep your family together.”

The dam inside me bursts, and before I know it, I’m running toward her, pulling her into my arms. I hold her as tightly as I can, feeling her body shaking with sobs against mine. It doesn’t feel real. I’ve dreamed of this moment, of holding her again, but now that she’s here, it’s overwhelming.

“I love you,” I whisper into her hair, my voice breaking. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” she whispers back, her voice full of the same raw emotion that’s been tearing me apart for weeks.

We hold each other, the world spinning around us, but for the first time in weeks, I can breathe again. For the first time, I feel like maybe, just maybe, I can be whole again.