Arushi's POV:
I packed the last of my things, glancing down at the frame in my hands. It was a picture of me, Anjali, Aryan, and Aahan. My fingers gently caressed the photo as a small, bittersweet smile tugged at my lips. A single tear fell onto the frame, blurring the edges of our faces.
My hand instinctively moved to my stomach, tenderly caressing the small bump. "I'm sorry, baby... Mumma is so sorry." My voice cracked as more tears spilled down my cheeks.
Yes, I'm four months pregnant. No one knows—not even Anjali. I couldn't bring myself to tell her. With her pregnancy already so complicated, I didn't want to add to her worries.
She's in her eighth month, and she deserves to focus on her own health.
"Masi is sorry, baby... I-I can't be with you," I whispered, my words trembling as the weight of my decision bore down on me.
"Arushi, cab aa gayi," my roommate's voice broke through my thoughts.
I quickly wiped my tears and nodded, forcing myself to move.
End POV
Aahan was fast asleep. The quiet hum of the night surrounded him when his phone buzzed loudly, jolting him awake. Still groggy, he answered, "Hello?"
"Bhai! Bhai, Arushi ja rahi hai!" The frantic voice on the other end made him sit up straight, his frown deepening.
"Huh? K-kahan ja rahi hai?" he asked, rubbing his face to shake off the sleep.
"INDIA CHHOR KAR!"
The words made his breath hitch. Panic set in as he scrambled out of bed, grabbing his keys.
"Voh abhi kahan hai? Flight kab ki hai?"
"Bhai, voh airport pahunch gayi hai. Uski flight aadhe ghante mein hai... tu nahi—"
The call disconnected as Aahan hung up, not waiting for the rest. Without wasting another moment, he grabbed his jacket and rushed out.
Jumping on his bike, he sped through the quiet streets, his heart pounding with urgency.
"Arushi—Bub, please don't go. Just wait for me. I can't let you go. I can't..." he muttered under his breath, his grip tightening on the handlebars.
Meanwhile, at the airport, Arushi completed the security check and walked towards the boarding gate. She paused momentarily, taking a deep breath before stepping onto the plane.
Settling into her seat, she whispered to herself, "I hate you, Aahan Taneja. But... but I still love you, and I hate myself for that."
She closed her eyes, trying to block out the storm of emotions raging inside her.
Back on the streets, Aahan pushed his bike to its maximum speed, the cold wind stinging his face. He didn't notice the truck veering onto his path until it was too late.
YOU ARE READING
Drenched Heart's || COMPLETED✔️||
Romance"Drenched Hearts" Anjali, a passionate poetess, and Aryan, the son of a renowned businessman, crossed paths at an art exhibition. Their first encounter was accidental-a splash of ink from Anjali's hand stained Aryan's shirt. But fate had other plans...
