Armaan stood frozen, his body numb as the weight of her words sank in. He couldn’t believe what he had just heard. She can’t forget me again, he thought, panic rising like bile in his throat. If she forgets me now, I don’t think I can survive this.
“What are you saying, Abhira? You… you don’t recognize me? It’s me, Armaan…” his voice trembled as he tried to remind her, clinging to the hope that this was all just a misunderstanding.
But before he could finish, Abhira cut him off with a tone as cold as the night air. “Maine apka naam nahi pucha, Dr. Armaan,” she said, her voice stern and distant. “I asked who you are. Kaun ho tum?”
Armaan’s heart constricted painfully in his chest. He stared at her, disbelief etched across his face. Her expression was unreadable, but the words she spoke pierced him like daggers. He couldn’t understand—what is she trying to say? Why is she acting like this?
“What… what kind of talk is this?” he stammered, still grappling with the confusion swirling in his mind. “Chupchap ghar chalo, Abhira. Do you even realize how worried everyone is about you?” He reached for her hand, desperate to bring her back, to pull her away from this nightmare.
But Abhira yanked her hand away violently, her voice rising in a sudden shout, “Don’t touch me! Don’t you dare touch me, Armaan!”
Armaan recoiled as if struck, his heart pounding in his ears.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she continued, her voice shaking with emotion, but her eyes were firm, locked onto his. “Not until you answer my question. Kaun ho tum? Who are you to me, Armaan? Why should I trust you, follow you, when I don’t even know what you mean to me anymore?”
Her words hit him harder than any physical blow. She wasn’t just asking for his name—she was asking for something deeper, something that went beyond the surface. She wants to know something that Armaan can't tell her. He can't put her life at risk.
As the waves crashed against the shore, threatening to pull her further into the void, Armaan felt his heart shatter into a thousand pieces. He had fought so hard for her—waited, hoped, prayed that she would love him again. But now, it felt like everything was slipping away again.
"Abhira," he whispered, his voice breaking. "Please..... Behas mat karo. Ghar chalo."
Armaan tried to steady himself, taking a deep breath as he reached for her hand once more, determined to calm her down. But this time, Abhira didn’t just pull away—she pushed him, her voice rising in fury.
“I said don’t touch me! Stay away from me!” she shouted, her voice echoing against the empty beach.
Armaan stood there, helpless, completely at a loss for how to handle her erratic behavior. But amidst the chaos, one thing became crystal clear—no matter how angry she seemed, Abhira needed him right now. Desperately. Even if she didn’t realize it.
He glanced up at the sky, now an inky black, covered by thick clouds. It was almost one in the morning, and the waves crashing onto the shore were growing more ferocious with each passing second. This wasn’t safe. Not for her. Not for either of them.
“Abhira, please, let’s go home,” Armaan said, his tone pleading but gentle. “I understand you’re upset, ghar jaake jitna naraz hona hai ho lena. But abhi ghar chalo. Right now, it’s not safe here. Everyone at home is—”
“Worried, right?” she cut him off sharply, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Of course, they’re worried. But tell me, Armaan—who came to look for me? Who thought I'll be here, and came to for?”
Her words stung, and Armaan’s breath caught in his throat. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, she mocked him again, her voice laced with bitterness.
