❞𝐊𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐊 [𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐛𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐠𝐢𝐥𝐥]

𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫.

SHUBMAN

The slam of the car door still echoed in my head as I drove away. Samaira had barely looked back, her stiff posture as she walked into her building making it clear that whatever was between us was done. Or at least, that's what she wanted me to believe.

I pulled the car into a side street and killed the engine, resting my head back against the seat. My hands were gripping the steering wheel so hard, my knuckles had turned white. I let out a frustrated breath, trying to unclench my fists. Why did it always come to this? Every time we were together, it felt like walking through a minefield. One wrong step, and everything would blow up in our faces.

Her words still stung—cheater. She didn’t even give me the chance to explain, didn't care to hear my side of the story. She just threw that accusation at me like a knife, expecting it to hit its mark. And it had.

But she didn’t know the whole truth. She didn’t know what really happened that day. And I wasn’t about to leave things like this.

Before I knew it, I found myself turning the car around, heading back to her place. Maybe it was foolish, maybe I was just setting myself up for more disappointment, but I couldn’t leave things unfinished.

As I parked outside her apartment, I sat there for a few minutes, trying to gather my thoughts. What was I even going to say? She made it clear she didn’t want to see me again, that she was done. But something in her eyes, that flicker of hesitation when she told me off, told me she wasn’t as certain as she pretended to be.

I got out of the car and made my way to her door, my heart pounding in my chest. The quiet of the night around me made every sound—my footsteps, the creak of the gate—feel louder, more pronounced. When I reached her door, I hesitated for just a moment before knocking.

It took her a while to answer, and when she finally did, she looked surprised to see me. Her eyes widened slightly, but she quickly masked whatever she was feeling with that same cold expression.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice guarded.

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my frustration in check. “Tujhse baat karni hai.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, clearly not interested in any kind of conversation. “There’s nothing to talk about, Shubman. I thought I made that clear.”

“You didn’t give me a chance to explain.”

“There’s nothing to explain. It’s over, and I don’t want to do this anymore.”

I took a step forward, my voice low but firm. “You think you can just walk away? After that hug?”

She flinched slightly, but she didn’t back down. “Yes, I can. And I will.”

For a moment, we stood there in silence, the tension between us thick and heavy. I could feel the anger simmering beneath the surface, but I wasn’t here to fight. We needed to sort out things.

“Samaira, you don’t even know the full story,” I said, my voice softening. “You don’t know what happened that day. Tu mainu villain samajh rahi hai.”

She shook her head, her jaw clenched. “It doesn’t matter, Shubman. I don’t care anymore.”

I could see the pain in her eyes, the hurt she was trying so hard to hide. And it killed me that I was the reason for it.