My Mr. Artist

Chapter 39

Kiyah

The sliding doors of the airport parted, and a wave of cool air rushed over me, chasing away the heat of the late morning. The terminal was alive with noise—families dragging overstuffed suitcases, business travelers speaking into headsets, children tugging on their parents' hands.

I adjusted the strap of my bag, trying to match Ansh's calm stride. My chest, however, felt tight. Too many thoughts swirled in my mind: Saira's wedding, the company, the unfinished project, and my mother's face when she had left earlier that day.

Ansh glanced at me sideways, his lips quirking. "Why do you look like you're walking into a hostile takeover meeting?"

I frowned. "I do not."

"You do." He leaned in conspiratorially, lowering his voice. "Brows all serious, lips tight. Admit it—you're scared of flying."

I shot him a glare. "I'm not scared of flying."

"Then what is it?" he pressed, bumping his shoulder against mine lightly, careful of his bandaged hand. "You're too quiet. Don't tell me you're already missing me."

I snorted, though a reluctant smile tugged at my mouth. "You're impossible."

He grinned, satisfied. "That's better. A smile suits you more than that corporate death-glare."

The knot in my chest eased just a little. For a moment, I allowed myself to laugh, the sound swallowed by the buzz of the terminal.

And then my steps faltered.

Just ahead, near the departure lounge, I saw them. Reva, scrolling through her phone, and Ashi—her hand tucked comfortably into the arm of a man I recognized belatedly as Tanish, her fiancé. Now he was leaning in, murmuring something that made Ashi laugh, the sound sharp and familiar, tugging painfully at my heart.

Nostalgia hit me like a punch. I saw flashes of another time—Ashi scolding me late into the night, Reva dragging me out for ice cream when I refused to leave my room, their laughter filling the silences I used to drown in. And then I saw the distance that had grown, the unanswered calls, the fading voices.

My grip tightened unconsciously around Ansh's arm.

"Kiyu?" His voice sharpened with concern. "What is it?"

I swallowed hard, my eyes locked on the three figures ahead. "Them," I whispered.

Reva looked up then, her eyes finding mine across the crowd. Her smile faltered instantly, draining into something unreadable. Ashi followed her gaze, and the warmth on her face vanished, replaced by disbelief and something sharper. Even Tanish noticed, wanting to break tension.

The air thickened. What had been a casual, noisy lounge suddenly felt suffocating.

Reva was the first to move, stepping forward, her voice low but steady. "So... it's true."

Ashi's words followed, sharper, like a blade slipping between ribs. "After everything, Kiyah? You're still with him?"

I froze. My mouth opened, but nothing came out. My heart pounded, torn between the instinct to shield Ansh and the weight of guilt pressing down on me. These were the girls who had held me together when I was falling apart. And now, because I had chosen him again, I stood before them empty-handed, unable to defend myself.

Before the silence could stretch too far, Ansh stepped in. His voice was calm, low, but carried weight. "It's true. And it's my fault. Kiyah doesn't need to explain anything to you. If you want someone to blame, blame me."