My Ex - Crush

Episode 60

Arjun's POV:

As we finished lunch, Vignesh looked over at me, concern written all over his face.

“Your eyes are bloodshot, Arjun! Come on, man, we’re done with the presentation. Go wash up or something. Loosen up!” he said, nudging me.

“Yeah, I’ll go,” I muttered, too drained to say much more. I made my way to the restroom, hoping cold water might somehow wash away the heaviness pressing down on me.

I splashed water on my face, but instead of feeling clearer, I felt worse. My mind wouldn’t stop spinning, cycling through images of her, of the hurt in her eyes when I left her standing there.

Deepika... God, please let her be okay.

The guilt of leaving her abruptly kept gnawing at me, each splash of water only making the desperation in me grow sharper. “I’m sorry, Deepika,” I whispered to my reflection, “I shouldn’t have kissed you. I... I just keep making mistakes.” I pressed my hands against the sink, the cold water dripping down my face doing nothing to clear the mess in my mind. The weight of regret felt like it would crush me.

I straightened up, forcing myself to stay steady. The day was almost over; just one final discussion to get through, and I’d be out of here. Maybe once I was back home, I could think straight.

Vignesh was waiting as I stepped out, shaking his head as he spoke. “I’m sorry, Arjun. But you didn’t leave me with any other option. We almost blew the submission timing. Thank God you managed to catch the midnight bus and made it here just in time. I can’t imagine what Gowtham would’ve said if we’d messed up the GSen presentation!”

I nodded, barely able to summon a response. My exhaustion went deeper than lack of sleep—it was bone-deep, tangled with guilt and regret.

I knew I couldn’t blame anyone else. I shouldn’t have gone to Archcult. I should’ve listened to Vignesh and stayed focused on the work. But everything was spiraling. Vinoth’s laptop had acted up, and we’d almost missed the deadline if Raghu hadn’t come through. If he hadn’t saved the day, I don’t know what would’ve happened.

Even as I forced myself to focus on the discussion, my mind was miles away, caught in the memory of her—the way she looked at me, her eyes full of questions and quiet desperation, asking me to say what I wanted to say. And I had walked away.

Her face wouldn’t leave my mind, that lingering hope in her eyes mixed with confusion, and all because I couldn’t bring myself to admit the truth. I’d messed up. I’d nearly blown the panel submission, and everything was falling apart because of it.

I trusted Deepika more than anyone, but in that moment, the thought of telling her—telling anyone—that I’d almost ruined everything felt unbearable. I couldn’t bring myself to let her see me like that. I didn’t want the seniors to hear about it, to know I was slipping.

All I could think about was fixing it before anyone found out, even if it meant shutting her out.

But now, sitting here, I couldn’t escape the regret. I should have at least told her something. I should have let her in, even if only a little. Instead, I’d left her standing there, abandoned, without a word of explanation. I could only imagine what she must have felt, the confusion, the hurt. I’d left her to question everything, to wonder if I even cared.

The weight of it was almost unbearable. I clenched my fists, fighting back the ache that rose every time I thought of her. The regret pressed down on me, hard and unrelenting, and the more I tried to push it away, the more it grew, clawing at me, reminding me that I’d failed her in the worst way.