Here is the part 2 of " ð¾ðððððð ðð ððð ð»ððð"
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The practice sessions had become the same routine, but for Shubman, every day felt heavier. His thoughts wandered endlessly back to the past, to the regrets he couldn't shake off, to the promises he'd made to himself.
Every glance at Ishan seemed to pull him deeper into a life he'd long buried.
He couldn't stop it; the memories of a life where he had betrayed the person who had loved him most, the person who had shared his soul, haunted him.
Today, it was more intense. There was something different about the way Ishan spoke to him, the way he lingered after practice to talk to him, his voice carrying an unspoken familiarity.
Shubman felt as if the universe was giving him another chance to make things right. But how could he, when Ishan didn't even know who he really was?
Shubman's POV:
I was consumed. It wasn't just about the game anymore, or even the team. It was about himâabout Ishan.
Every time I looked at him, it was as if I was seeing him for the first time and yet, at the same time, like I'd always known him.
I had to make him understand. Make him see the truth. But how? He didn't remember. How could he? The weight of my past actions crushed me. Every time we spoke, I saw the absence of the love that once existed between us, and it tore at me.
"Hey, Shubman," Ishan's voice brought me out of my thoughts. He stood beside me as we sat down on the bench after the day's practice. "You're quieter than usual today. Everything alright?"
I looked at him, taking in the warmth in his eyes, the same eyes that had once held nothing but love for me, now so innocent, so unaware.
"I'm fine," I managed to say, my voice strained. "Just... thinking about stuff."
Ishan gave me a soft smile. "Stuff like what?"
I ran a hand through my hair, looking away. "I don't know... just personal things. It's nothing."
But it wasn't nothing. It never was. And I needed him to understand that, even if it took everything I had.
Ishan's POV:
There was something about Shubman that I couldn't quite figure out. Today, more than ever, I felt drawn to himâan unexplainable connection that stirred deep within me.
Every time he looked at me, it was as if he saw right through me, as if I wasn't just a cricket teammate, but something more. I couldn't place it, and it bothered me.
The way he treated me, the way he spokeâthere was a familiarity, a comfort I couldn't ignore. And the way he looked at me sometimes... It made my heart race, like I was standing on the edge of something monumental, something life-changing.
"Are you sure everything's okay?" I asked him again, this time with a softer tone. "You've been different. Quiet, distant..."
His eyes met mine, and for a moment, I could have sworn there was a flicker of something in his gazeâa deep, aching sadness. But just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone.
"I'm fine, really," Shubman said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes.
I didn't push him further. But as I walked away, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to thisâsomething I needed to understand.
Past Life:
The winds howled through the darkened night, and Shubman stood in the shadowed corridors of his ancestral home, trembling as he held the dagger in his hand. He had just killed Ishan. His husband. The love of his life.
Shubman's heart thundered in his chest as he dropped the weapon, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The body of Ishan lay before him, the once bright spark of life now extinguished.
He had been driven to madness by his lover's manipulationsâwhispered lies that twisted his heart and mind. He had convinced himself that Ishan, gentle and loving as he was, wasn't the one for him.
"I'm sorry, Ishan," Shubman whispered through the tears. "I never meant for this to happen..."
But the words fell hollow in the silence. It was too late now. The love he had once felt for Ishan was drowned out by the guilt that now consumed him. And as he stood over his dead husband, he realized the horrible truth: the person he had thought he loved, the one who had led him down this dark path, had never truly cared for him.
It had always been Ishan. It was always Ishan.
But it was too late. He had killed him. His soul was now empty, left to wander the earth, searching for redemption, but knowing that the price of his actions would be eternal regret.
Shubman's POV (Present Life):
As the days passed, I couldn't stop thinking about the past. I had betrayed him. Killed him. And now, all I wanted was for him to forgive me. But how could I ask for that? How could I, when I had done the worst thing imaginable? How could I even face him?
There were nights when I woke up in a cold sweat, the memory of Ishan's lifeless eyes burning into my mind. I had lost him. But here he was, standing in front of me again, and I couldn't make the same mistake.
"Shubman," Ishan's voice broke my reverie, and I looked up to find him standing in front of me. "You've been distant for days now. Talk to me. What's going on?"
I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, I stepped forward, unable to control the urge to just... reach out. To take him in my arms, as if somehow that might make up for everything I had done.
Without thinking, I took his hands in mine, the heat of his skin searing through me.
"Ishan, Iâ" I began, but I couldn't finish.
Ishan blinked, surprised by the sudden intimacy, but he didn't pull away. "Shubman?"
I felt something shift, a crack in the wall I had built around my heart. I had to tell him. I had to make him understand. But I didn't know how to say it. Not yet.
Author's POV:
The night was heavy with anticipation. The space between them was fraught with the weight of things unspoken. Shubman, torn between his past actions and the love he still held for Ishan, stood on the precipice, unsure of how to bridge the gap. Ishan, unaware of the depth of their connection, sensed something deeper in Shubman than he could explain.
But the past was coming, slowly unraveling itself. And soon, Ishan would remember.
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End of Part 2
Stay tuned for part 3.