Chapter 29

Abhimanyu

The library was almost empty, filled only with the soft rustling of pages and the occasional sound of a chair scraping against the floor. It was the only place in school that felt like an escape, a space where silence didn’t feel suffocating but rather comforting.

And there she was.

Shubhi sat near the window, a book open in front of her, but her gaze was lost somewhere beyond the words. Her fingers absentmindedly traced the edge of the pages, as if she were pretending to be focused while her mind was elsewhere. I knew that look. I had worn it far too many times myself.

I hadn’t planned to confront her like this—not here, not now—but something inside me snapped. The past few days had been unbearable. The distance. The avoidance. The way she looked at me like I was just another stranger. It was driving me insane.

I walked over, my footsteps quiet but purposeful. She didn’t notice until I pulled out the chair opposite hers. Her head snapped up, her eyes widening slightly before she masked it with indifference.

I scoffed. "So, that's how it's going to be now? You see me, and you pretend I don’t exist?"

Her lips pressed into a thin line. "I don’t know what you're talking about."

I let out a humorless laugh. "Really? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’ve been avoiding me. Again."

She shifted in her seat, closing the book in front of her. "I’m not avoiding you, Abhimanyu. I just... I just don’t think we have anything to talk about."

I clenched my jaw. "Nothing to talk about? After everything?"

Her eyes flickered, betraying something—guilt, regret, pain. I wasn’t sure. But it wasn’t enough. Not after all this.

"You were the one who acted like I didn’t exist first," she shot back, voice quieter but firm. "I just followed your lead."

I exhaled sharply, gripping the edge of the table. "Do you even know why?"

She remained silent.

"Do you?" I pressed, my voice dropping lower.

Still, nothing.

I ran a hand through my hair, frustration boiling over. "You think I wanted this distance? That I wanted to—" I stopped myself, shaking my head. "God, Shubhi, you don’t even realize, do you? How much—"

I bit my tongue.

She swallowed hard, her fingers tightening around the book. "Then tell me," she whispered. "Tell me why you did it."

I wanted to. I really did. But the words lodged in my throat, the weight of my past pressing down like an iron chain.

Instead, I exhaled sharply, shaking my head. "Forget it."

I stood up abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. Shubhi flinched at the sound, but I didn’t look back. I couldn’t.

Not when I was this close to letting everything spill.