ADHURI KAHANI: A tale of an amnesic bond

55. CRAVING HER

ISHAAN'S POV

I stared through the ceiling-to-floor window into Inaaya's now-empty cabin, an unfamiliar emptiness clawing at my chest. It wasn't just the absence of her presence; it was the void she left behind that I couldn't quite explain. My heart, not the room, felt empty when she wasn't there. Every time I glanced at her cabin and found it vacant, the memory of her lying unconscious in the hospital invaded my mind, vivid and relentless. Even though I'd tightened security around the company, assuring myself she was safe, those fleeting seconds where the accident replayed in my head sent a wave of unease through me, leaving my heart pounding in my chest. It was irrational-I knew she was fine, just in a different department, a different role-but the lack of her familiar presence felt unsettling, like a piece of me was misplaced.

She'd moved to the marketing department, and her cabin now sat lifeless, stripped of the energy and warmth she had unknowingly infused into the space. My gaze instinctively drifted to the glass partition again, only to be met with the stark reminder of her absence. It was a habit I couldn't seem to shake, and each time, it left me hollow.

Her absence was a constant reminder of how deeply she'd etched herself into my life. And when she wasn't here, it felt as though I'd lost something vital. The hollowness that settled in her absence was unbearable, a gnawing ache I couldn't shake. It fueled the fire within me to ensure her safety-no compromises, no second chances-not after what happened. Even the thought of that day made my blood boil, the urge to obliterate everything in my path nearly consuming me. Yet here I was, still unable to find the person responsible for harming her. The weight of failure pressed heavily on me. I had failed to protect her then, and now, every passing day without answers felt like another failure to avenge her. It didn't matter that Inaaya and her family believed it was an accident; I knew better. It wasn't an accident, and I was more certain of that after what Mr. Suryavanshi revealed.

The driver wasn't Indian. He was hired for this one job and vanished afterward, leaving no trace. It was a carefully executed plan, designed to evade even the sharpest investigations. Suryavanshi mentioned that it was unlikely Niraj was involved, given he was in hiding, dodging his own set of enemies. But I wasn't convinced. If it wasn't Niraj, then who? There was no one else who would want to hurt Inaaya. Niraj had infiltrated my office before, planting his spies to dig into my life. That alone was enough to pin him as the culprit. He had the means, the history, and most importantly, the motive.

I couldn't ignore how he always inserted himself into places he had no business being, a parasite feeding on chaos. Even his own children had turned against him-a testament to his worthlessness. Now, he was reduced to hiding like the pathetic coward he was. But I wouldn't let him get away this time. No matter where he hid, no matter how deep he buried himself, I would find him. For Inaaya. For my peace. For everything he tried to take from me.

The uneasiness in my chest was unbearable, and sitting still only made it worse. With a frustrated sigh, I stood from my chair, trying to convince myself that I was heading to the marketing team purely to check their progress. You're going there to check on Inaaya, so stop lying to yourself, my inner voice taunted, and I felt my ears burn with embarrassment.

Shoving my hands into my pockets, I tried to compose myself. We hadn't spoken since the kiss. Not properly, at least. There were fleeting glances, tense silences, and the weight of the unspoken lingering between us, but no real conversation. We could have talked the following day if it hadn't been for the publishing department's head, whose car had conveniently broken down. I'd offered him a lift, and Inaaya ended up seated in the back seat, leaving me painfully aware of the distance between us

As I stepped off the elevator and made my way toward the marketing department, a flicker of movement in the corner of my eye caught my attention. My steps faltered when I saw her. Inaaya. She was standing in front of the fridge in the cafeteria, utterly unaware of my presence.