ADHURI KAHANI: A tale of an amnesic bond

48. MEMORIES BRING BACK

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ISHAAN'S POV

Exiting the elevator, my hand felt strangely empty without the butterscotch boba I'd gotten into the habit of bringing her. It had become a small ritual, one I had to abandon because she wasn't here. Passing by her cabin, I braced myself-again. Every day, the sight of it empty hits me, a reminder that this is yet another morning. This feeling of emptiness is like a heavy, silent weight pressing down from the inside. It's as if every small, familiar ritual has lost its purpose, and each routine that once brought comfort now only deepens the sense of loss. There's a hollow ache where joy and excitement used to be, leaving behind a numbness that feels almost as if it will never go away. Even things that were once automatic, like walking past her cabin or buying that boba, feel like painful reminders of what's missing.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't dread being here now. The office, filled with memories of her, feels hollow. Sitting at my desk, where I used to catch glimpses of her, feels unbearable. The untouched boba from before the accident still stands, a small ghost of routine and warmth I can't bring myself to throw away. A break would be easy; work is the only thing keeping me from collapsing into the reality of her absence. But if I let myself stop... I'm not sure what pieces of me would be left.

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I walked into the cafeteria, my movements automatic, almost mechanical. The smell of coffee was thick in the air, but I barely noticed it. This routine-arriving at 8 a.m., leaving around 10 p.m., filling every hour in between-has become my lifeline. I cling to it, to the illusion that keeping busy means keeping control, that burying myself in work means I can bury the ache of missing her. But who am I kidding? No amount of work has helped; if anything, it's only a thin veneer over the emptiness that seeps into every corner of my mind.

Each day, I'm running from something that I can't outrun. The minute I slow down, even for a second, memories of her rush in-her laugh, her smile, the way she brightened even the darkest days. I can't afford that. If I allow myself to miss her, if I even consider dwelling on her absence, I'm afraid I'll unravel. So I keep going, keep working, pretending that productivity can somehow erase the hollow feeling left in her wake.

It's as if my heart has paused,and all that remains is my body drifting forward, guided by nothing but empty routine.

I opened the refrigerator for a slice of ice cream cake, but instead found rows of butterscotch ice cream - the same kind I'd put there before. Though less than what I'd stocked that day, there were still so many left. My mind drifted back to the moment I caught her, lost in the sweetness of her favorite treat. She loved those... my plum.

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I entered the cafeteria for lunch, holding on to one ritual I can't seem to abandon. The truth is, I don't want to. Letting go feels like erasing her, and I can't bear to lose the fragments that remain - even the pieces of my heart that still beat only because of her. Without her, they'd have stopped long ago.

With my food tray in hand, I scanned the room, searching for an empty seat. My gaze settled on Raghav, sitting alone at the table he and Inaaya once shared. The sight sent a sharp ache through my chest, memories rushing back from this very cafeteria where laughter and warmth once thrived. I felt my throat tighten, the sting of unshed tears pressing behind my eyes. But I fought it, refusing to let the pain show.

I approached Raghav quietly and took the seat across from him. He looked up, a sad softness in his eyes, and wished me a good afternoon. I managed a nod, unable to trust my voice with words. He seemed just as weighed down, though he hid it well. I knew he was hurting too - after all, I was the one who'd told him the news. It felt cruel to be the bearer of such a painful truth, but he had a right to know.

Silence settled between us, heavy and somber, filled with things neither of us dared to say. As we sat there, I felt the enormity of loss tugging at both our souls, a silent understanding that held us in place. In that quiet moment, we shared a sorrow too deep for words, bound by the memory of her presence and the echoes of the love we both still carried.

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I stepped into the quieter side of the park, the usual buzz of people replaced by a tranquil stillness. Clutching a mint chocolate-flavored drink in one hand and my diary in the other, I made my way to a bench shaded by a large tree. I set the five bottles of drink down beside me and opened the diary, flipping through the pages until I landed on a particular memory. There it was, a snapshot of us enjoying this very drink. Inaaya looked absolutely furious that day, her expression a mix of annoyance and determination

I picked up one bottle, twisting the cap off and taking a long sip to soothe the dry, painful knot in my throat. This was my ritual; I came here every day, spending hours lost in thought when I wasn't working. I always promised myself I wouldn't return, yet here I was again, drawn back to this spot where so many memories lingered.

As I took another sip, I recalled the time I found her here, surrounded by an array of mint chocolate shakes. The memory played like a movie in my mind, bringing with it a rush of emotions. I swallowed hard, fighting against the swell of tears that threatened to escape. I shouldn't cry. I must not cry.

I grabbed another bottle, chugging it down quickly, my movements rough and hurried, as if I could drown out the pain with each gulp. But the memories kept coming, relentless and vivid, as I tried to hold back the wave of grief that washed over me.

"This tastes like shit!" I groan and throw the third bottle, angry at myself.

I stood up and walked toward the tree, feeling a pull I couldn't resist. The diary had mentioned our names carved into its bark, and I needed to see it for myself. As I searched the rough surface, my heart raced with anticipation. After what felt like an eternity, I finally found it - our names, etched together in a moment that felt both eternal and fleeting: ISHAAN and INAAYA. I traced my fingers over the inscription, feeling the grooves beneath my touch, a tangible reminder of a love that once flourished.

My gaze moved upward, landing on the year we met, 2017. But next to it, in stark contrast, was the current year, glaring and cruel. My breath quickened at the sight, a visceral reaction to the reality it represented. I picked up a rock from the ground, my movements frantic and desperate as I began rubbing at the present year, as if I could erase it from existence. Who wrote it? This can't be the end! She can't leave me! My plum cannot leave me!

The rough edge of the rock scraped against my skin, but I barely felt the sting, consumed by a deeper pain. A tear escaped, quickly followed by another, and soon my vision blurred as the weight of my grief became too heavy to bear. I stopped, letting the rock slip from my hand, the sound of it hitting the ground echoing in the silence around me. My legs gave way, and I sank to the earth, sobbing openly, letting the torrent of pain I'd held inside for so long flow freely.

I was exhausted - tired of pretending I was okay when inside I felt shattered and lost. Each sob echoed the ache in my heart, a release of the hurt that had become my constant companion. Here, in this moment, I allowed myself to feel everything, the rawness of my emotions pouring out until there was nothing left but the emptiness that filled me.

Here is the 48th chapter. I hope you guys liked it.

Oh how the tables have turned!
We don't do partiality. Both of them shall suffer! *evil laughter*

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Chapter 49 will come out soon <3