He Was My First Love

Part : Eight

In the stillness of the night, Priya awoke, her eyes fluttering open as the unfamiliar surroundings slowly came into focus. Confusion clouded her mind, and as she sat up in the soft bed, memories of the previous night started flooding back. She winced, recalling the alcohol, the emotional outburst, and Ram—how she had let her guard down.

"Oh, no... Did I mess up in front of him again?" she muttered to herself, her fingers running through her hair. She glanced around the room, piecing together where she was. "Is this his place?" The realization hit her with a jolt of disbelief.

Eager to avoid any further confrontation, she swung her legs off the bed and silently tiptoed toward the hallway. As she moved, she spotted Ram sleeping on the couch, his tall frame awkwardly sprawled across it, legs dangling over the edge. The sight of him—so peaceful, vulnerable even—made her pause for a moment. She shook her head slightly, taking in the lavish surroundings of his apartment. "So this is where he lives now, huh? Such an expensive place. And look at us... how far apart we are now," she whispered, her voice tinged with bitterness and agitation.

Priya carefully approached the sofa, her footsteps light, not wanting to disturb him. As she neared, her foot brushed against something on the floor. She looked down and saw Ram's wallet, half-opened, lying at her feet. Bending down, she picked it up, her fingers brushing over the familiar leather. Memories flooded her—how Ram used to carry a picture of her and Peehu in that very wallet. Curiosity gnawed at her, a mix of longing and suspicion creeping in.

She glanced at Ram, who remained deep in sleep, oblivious to her presence. "After all these years... how did he become so... handsome?" she found herself thinking, caught off guard by the sudden attraction. His face had aged, but in a way that made him even more striking, more mature. "Is it really him? Or did time turn him into someone else entirely?" she whispered, feeling a strange pull she hadn't expected.

But just as quickly, she shook off the thought, reminding herself of all the hurt, the abandonment. "It doesn't matter. He's not the man he used to be," she whispered to herself, a familiar edge of resentment returning.

As she placed the wallet down on the table, her eyes caught sight of her car keys. She picked them up, ready to leave this place, to escape before anything else unraveled. But then, something tugged at her. A thought. A temptation. She remembered the old habit Ram had of keeping their family photo in his wallet. Does he still do that? The question burned inside her, refusing to be ignored.

Priya stood there, torn between her pride and her curiosity. "Why do I even want to know?" she muttered under her breath. "Does it even matter anymore? After everything?" Yet, despite herself, she couldn't resist. I need to know.

Her hands trembled slightly as she opened the wallet, her heart pounding in her chest. But what she found inside made her freeze. There was no picture of her. No picture of Peehu. Instead, there was a photograph of Ram with another woman—and an older man. The woman stood close to Ram, smiling, her arm casually linked with his.

The wallet slipped from Priya's hands, the sound of it hitting the floor sharp in the otherwise quiet room. She stared down at it, her mind reeling, heart racing. Who is she? The question screamed inside her, but she couldn't bear to think about it any longer. Shocked, hurt, and overwhelmed, she grabbed her keys and left the apartment without another word, the image of Ram with another woman burned into her mind.

As she drove through the quiet streets, Priya's thoughts raced, her emotions swirling into a storm. She had never imagined this. After all the years apart, after all the pain, she never thought Ram would have someone else in his life. The bitter truth of it stung deeply, and she found herself lost, unsure of where to go from here.