Chapter 31

Subhi

I found him.

After all the moments of hesitation, all the nights spent overthinking, I finally found him. Sitting on the rooftop, alone. His silhouette was barely visible under the dim glow of the evening sky. The world below bustled with life, but up here, there was nothing but silence. A silence that had consumed him for too long.

My steps were slow, careful, but my heart pounded with urgency.

He didn’t notice me at first. Or maybe he did but didn’t care. His gaze was fixed on the horizon, lost in thoughts too deep for me to reach. But I had to try.

“Abhimanyu…” I said softly.

His shoulders tensed. For a moment, he didn’t respond. Then, in a voice so low it almost disappeared into the wind, he spoke.

“What are you doing here?”

I took a deep breath. “I know everything.”

His body stiffened.

“I know about… her.” My voice trembled, but I held firm. “Your sister.”

Silence.

The kind that weighs down on your chest, making it hard to breathe.

Slowly, he turned to face me. His eyes—those dark, guarded eyes—held a storm inside them. His jaw clenched, his fists tightened. But he said nothing.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

He let out a bitter laugh. “Sorry? For what?” His voice was sharp, cutting. “You weren’t there, Shubhi. You didn’t watch her die. You didn’t stand there, helpless, while the only person who ever truly cared about you was ripped away in an instant.” His voice broke, and so did something inside me.

I stepped closer. “You don’t have to carry this alone.”

He looked at me then—really looked at me. Like he was seeing me for the first time. But instead of letting me in, he shook his head.

“You don’t get it,” he muttered. “This… this isn’t something you can fix. This is my reality. My nightmare. And I’ve learned to live with it.”

“Have you?” I challenged. “Because all I see is someone running away. Pushing people away. Drowning in guilt that isn’t even his to bear.”

His breath hitched. His guard was cracking, but he still refused to let it shatter.

“I don’t need your pity, Shubhi.”

“This isn’t pity,” I said firmly. “This is me… telling you that you don’t have to be alone anymore.”

Something flickered in his eyes—hope, fear, anger, pain—all at once.

For the first time, I saw the boy behind the mask. The one who had been carrying the weight of his past for far too long.

And for the first time, he had no words left to push me away.