His Secret Roommate ✓

Chapter -24



6 Months later

Six months had passed, and Abhi sat buried in paperwork, surrounded by the chaos of files, witness statements, and reports that seemed to multiply with every passing hour. His desk was a mess, strewn with papers that told the story of months of investigation, sleepless nights.

He could barely remember the last time he had a moment to breathe, let alone eat. The clock on the wall ticked, each second a reminder that the final hearing for the Devraj case was just a week away. It had taken months of continuous work to bring down one of the most notorious criminals in their city.

After months of grueling effort, more than 95% of the victims had been found, their lives restored-at least what remained of them. Some would never recover from the trauma. Some were lost forever.

The operation had been successful. On paper, it was a win.

Abhi had tried to tell himself that this was a victory, that they had saved more than anyone could have expected. But it wasn't enough. It never was.

The weight of the operation sat heavy on his shoulders, a burden he couldn't shake. He had succeeded-Devraj was caught, the operation was deemed a success-but there was no satisfaction in it, only the bitter taste of regret. The road he had taken to catch Devraj was paved with decisions that haunted him at night, decisions that had taken something irreparable from him.

His mind often drifted to her-more often than he liked to admit. Sometimes, during the long hours at the office, he'd glance at the clock, wondering if she'd be home, waiting for him. Or in her pretty dress looking absolute ethereal.

His colleagues tried to talk to him, offering quick comments about the upcoming court date, but he was consumed by his thoughts, barely touching the lukewarm coffee that had long gone cold on his desk. He hadn't eaten all day; the only thing sustaining him was the adrenaline pumping through his veins.

"Abhi, you need to eat something," one officer said, concern etched on his face.

"I will," he replied absentmindedly, waving off the suggestion. The truth was, he couldn't remember the last time he had truly felt hunger.

The clock ticked, signaling the end of another long, grueling day. He checked his watch: 9:00 p.m. He sighed and stood up, gathering his things, his movements slow and heavy. His body ached from sitting for too long, his muscles stiff.

He was supposed to feel some sense of relief, of accomplishment, but all he felt was a hollow ache deep inside. He drove home in silence, the streets dimly lit under the streetlights.

His home was only a short drive away, but still felt like a thousand miles. When he pulled up to the house, it was dark. The lights she used to leave on for him were no longer there.

The house was cold, silent. She wasn't there anymore. The silence swallowed him whole, a stark difference to the chaos of his day in the office.

The faint smell of dust in the apartment filled the air, a reminder that he hadn't been home much lately. and when he did come home, it was only to crash on the bed for a few hours before heading back out again.

The door was almost always locked, untouched, as though no one had lived there in months. He walked further inside, noticing how the layer of dust had settled on the furniture, on the shelves that once held her things. Everything was frozen in time, the way she had left it when she moved out. Her absence was everywhere-no laughter, no love. just a hollow space where she used to be . The faint scent of her perfume had long since faded from the air, leaving behind only the smell of emptiness.