" 𝐼𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑑."
───※ ·❆· ※───
Aisha , her name alone melts the coldest hearts, and her bright smile brightens their days. The cheery, bright, and sometimes...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The rhythmic thud of fists meeting leather echoed through the gym, sharp and unforgiving. The boxing bag jolted with every blow, its chains rattling against the metal beam above—an eerie symphony of anger, pain, and helplessness.
Rivaan stood shirtless, sweat dripping down his sculpted back, his knuckles red—half from the impact, half from the storm brewing inside. His breath was heavy, labored, but he didn't stop. Couldn't stop.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Each punch was a plea. A scream. A wound. His fists flew harder, faster, as if he could beat the pain out of himself.
Then— He closed his eyes.
And she appeared.
That smile. That laughter. Her voice calling him Aan, teasing, soft, sacred.
His pixie. His Aisha.
But the memory twisted. She wasn't in his arms anymore. She was in Aditya's.
That safe, warm smile she gave him. Her fingers curled into his shirt. Her heart choosing him.
Not Rivaan. Not the man who had waited and searched for her. Not the one who had loved her beyond all limits, all logic. Not the one she used to call home.
His fist slammed into the bag again—harder. The force made it swing violently.
He staggered back, chest heaving, eyes wild and bloodshot. He dropped to his knees, palms pressed against the cold gym floor. And then—he slammed one hand down, the sound echoing loud and sharp.
Across the floor, the mirror stared back at him. His own reflection—drenched in sweat, knuckles bleeding, jaw clenched with rage and sorrow.
"Why... why can't you remember me?" His voice cracked.
A whisper. But deafening in the silence that followed.
He crawled backwards a little, body trembling with exhaustion, and sat slumped against the wall.
"She's mine," he growled, low and hoarse. "Not just someone I loved—she is mine. My Aisha. My everything."
But now... She looked at him with no flicker of recognition. Just like a ghost. Invisible. Unwanted. Like he was just another stranger in her story.
He leaned his head back, shutting his eyes again.
And that's when the gym door creaked open.
Vikram stood there with a calm expression, eyes quietly observing the storm that had been let loose.
He didn't say anything at first. Just walked over, slowly.
Rivaan didn't even look. He knew who it was—could feel it. "Say it," He muttered, his voice raw. "Say whatever you're here to say and get it over with."
