The next morning, the clock struck ten as I descended the stairs, my bag clutched tightly in one hand. Every step felt heavier than the last, the weight of my decision pressing down on me. Megha, along with her parents, waited in the living room. The warmth in their smiles was almost enough to make me falter. Almost.
"Aree, Niru beta, are you sure about this?" Megha's mother asked, her voice filled with concern. She rose from the couch, adjusting the pallu of her saree, her maternal instincts evident in her every move. "You didn't even tell us properly why you're leaving so suddenly."
I managed a weak smile, hoping it hid the storm raging inside me. "Aunty, it's a great opportunity. I've been offered a job that I can't refuse. It's exactly what I've been looking for."
Her father, who was sitting in his usual chair, adjusted his glasses and gave me a skeptical look. "Where is this job, beta? And why didn't you mention it before? Megha didn't say anything either."
My throat tightened, but I kept my composure. "It's a bit far, Uncle. And the offer came up unexpectedly, so I didn't have much time to prepare. I'm sorry for the suddenness."
Megha stepped in quickly, sensing my discomfort. "Papa, Niru will do great wherever she goes. You know how hardworking she is. Let's not make it harder for her by questioning too much."
Her father sighed, nodding reluctantly. "Alright, alright. But you'll stay in touch, won't you? Megha is like your sister, and we're here for you anytime you need."
I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded. "Of course, Uncle. Thank you for everything."
Megha's mother approached me and placed her hands gently on my head, blessing me. "Stay safe, beta. And don't forget to eat properly. You've been losing weight, I can tell."
I forced a smile, thanking her again. If only they knew the real reason I was leaving-running. But I couldn't let anyone know, not even Megha's kindhearted parents. They didn't deserve to be pulled into the chaos of my life.
The Drive to the Airport
Megha and I sat in silence for most of the drive. Her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, and her eyes flickered toward me every now and then, filled with worry.
"You sure about this, Niru?" she finally asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
I looked out of the window, watching the city I had grown to love pass me by. "I don't have a choice, Megha. I can't stay here."
She sighed, her knuckles whitening against the wheel. "You know he'll look for you, right? Ashtram sir isn't the type to let things go."
"I know," I whispered, my heart aching at the thought of him. "But I need to do this. For myself. For my sanity."
Megha didn't push further, though her worried glance in the rearview mirror spoke volumes.
When we finally reached the airport, she parked the car and turned to me. "You'll call me when you land, right? Promise me, Niru."
I gave her a shaky smile, reaching over to squeeze her hand. "I promise. And Megha... thank you. For everything."
Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, but she nodded, pulling me into a tight hug. "Take care of yourself, okay? And don't hesitate to call if you need anything."
On the Flight
Once I was on the plane, I settled into my seat, trying to focus on the safety belt fastened across my lap. The flight attendants moved up and down the aisles, preparing the cabin for takeoff, but my mind was far from the bustling activity around me. I stared out the window, watching as the city I had known all my life grew smaller and smaller beneath me.
As the plane lifted off, I let out a breath I hadn't realized I had been holding. This was it. This was my escape. But the relief I had expected didn't come. Instead, all I could think of was him.
Ashtram. His dark, intense eyes. The way he looked at me, like I was both his salvation and his obsession. He had a way of making me feel like I was the only thing that mattered to him-and the only thing that could destroy him.
I closed my eyes, trying to block out the memories, but they flooded in, relentless. The way he had touched me, possessively. The way he had claimed me, body and soul, without ever asking if I wanted to belong to him.
I hated him for it. And yet, I missed him. Every part of him.
"Stop," I whispered to myself, my voice barely audible over the hum of the plane's engines. "Just stop thinking about him."
Arrival in Bangalore
The moment I stepped out of the airport, the bustling energy of Bangalore hit me like a wave. The air was warm, filled with the hum of conversations, honking cars, and the occasional laughter of strangers. This was a new city, a new beginning.
I flagged down a cab and gave the address of a flat I had arranged through an online listing. It was a modest place, nothing extravagant, but it was enough for now.
The flat was on the third floor of a quiet building, with a small balcony overlooking a busy street. I stood there for a moment, letting the sounds of the city wash over me. For the first time in days, I felt a sliver of hope.
After unpacking, I lay down on the bed, exhaustion finally catching up with me. But my mind refused to rest. I thought about the job I had lined up at a nearby café, the life I would build here, and the person I hoped to become.
And yet, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop thinking about him.
Ashtram Raghuvanshi. The man who had shattered my heart, yet still held every piece of it in his hands.
Would I ever be able to truly escape him?
I lay on the bed for what felt like hours, my mind a whirlwind of memories, thoughts, and feelings I couldn't seem to shake. I was exhausted, both physically and emotionally, but sleep never came. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face-Ashtram, his intense gaze, his presence overwhelming me as always. The way he looked at me like I was both his world and his undoing.
I hated him for what he had done to me. But even as I resented him, there was a part of me that yearned for him. That remembered the way his hands had held me, the way his lips had tasted mine, the fire that had sparked between us when we were together.
"No," I whispered into the pillow, my fingers clutching the fabric as though I could pull myself away from the thoughts that haunted me. "I have to move on. I can't go back."
But even as I said it, I knew it wasn't that simple. The bond between us was too strong, too deep. I had given him pieces of me that I couldn't take back. And now, I was here, in this strange city, running away, trying to start fresh, but the past followed me like a shadow.
Finally, sleep claimed me, but it wasn't restful. My dreams were a chaotic blend of Ashtram's touch, his voice, the dangerous world he had pulled me into, and the heartache that came with being too close to someone who could destroy you with a glance.
When I finally opened my eyes, it was already evening. The room was bathed in a soft, amber light, and I rubbed my face in an attempt to shake off the remnants of the dream. My throat felt dry, my head a little foggy, but the pain in my chest still lingered. I had expected to feel relief-something, anything to convince me that leaving had been the right choice. But I felt nothing but emptiness.
I dragged myself out of bed and headed for the bathroom, the cool tiles beneath my feet grounding me in the present. The shower was refreshing, though it did little to clear my mind. The hot water ran over my skin, but no matter how much I scrubbed, I couldn't wash away the feeling of his hands on me, the way his breath had felt against my neck, the way his words had marked me.
When I stepped out of the shower, I stood in front of the mirror for a long time, staring at my reflection. I didn't recognize the woman I saw there. The fear in my eyes was still too raw, the traces of heartache too fresh. I had been so sure that leaving would be enough to erase him from my life, but as I looked at myself, I realized it was never going to be that simple.
With a sigh, I moved into the small kitchen, hoping to distract myself with something familiar. I made myself a cup of coffee, the warmth of the liquid in my hands a small comfort. But it didn't last long.
I walked over to the balcony, the mug still clutched between my fingers. The city stretched out before me, chaotic and alive, but I felt as distant from it as I had felt from everything else. My thoughts kept drifting back to him-Ashtram. His face. His words. His touch.
"My Ash..." I whispered, the words escaping before I could stop them.
I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing the tears that had been building up to stay in. But it didn't work. The tears came anyway, slipping down my cheeks as my heart ached with a longing I couldn't understand.
I wanted him. Despite everything, I wanted him. But I couldn't. I couldn't go back. Not to that world. Not to him.
My mind kept reminding me of the truth: He was a Mafia King. He would kill anyone without hesitation, without a second thought. He had hidden his true self from me, weaving a web of lies and manipulation until I was tangled up in it. I couldn't be part of that life, not anymore.
Yet, despite all of that, part of me still clung to the memory of him. The way he had looked at me with such intensity, such passion. The way his touch had set me on fire, even though I knew it was dangerous.
I wiped the tears away, but more quickly replaced them. "I can't think about him," I whispered to myself.
I turned my back on the balcony and walked inside, setting the mug on the table. The tears still burned in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall again. I had to be strong. I had to keep moving forward.
Ashtram Raghuvanshi was part of my past now. And I was determined to leave him there.
But the ache in my chest didn't care about my resolve. And neither did the memories of him.
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