Chapter 41

Abhimanyu

He didn’t ask me to leave.

I thought he would. I thought he’d get up and walk away like he always did when things got too real, too close. But this time, he didn’t. He just sat there, staring ahead, lost in thoughts he refused to share.

And I stayed.

Not because I had anything left to say, but because he needed it.

I could feel it in the way his shoulders tensed like he was fighting a battle with himself. In the way his fingers curled into fists on his knees. In the way his breathing was just a little uneven, like he was struggling to keep something inside.

I wanted to say something. Anything. But I knew words weren’t what he needed right now.

So, I just sat there, letting the silence settle between us.

Minutes passed. Maybe more. And yet, neither of us moved.

The sky was darker now, the streetlights casting a soft glow over the park. The world around us kept moving—cars passing, people talking, life going on. But here, in this small, quiet space, it felt like time had stopped.

I stole a glance at him. His jaw was clenched, his expression unreadable, but his eyes—they told a different story.

Pain. Guilt. Confusion.

He was drowning in them, and I wanted to pull him out.

But how do you save someone who doesn’t want to be saved?

I hesitated before speaking, my voice softer than I intended.

"You don’t have to do this alone, Abhimanyu."

His fingers twitched slightly, but he didn’t look at me.

"I’ve always been alone." His voice was rough, almost emotionless.

I shook my head. "That doesn’t mean you have to stay that way."

For the first time since I sat down, he turned to look at me. And in that moment, I saw something flicker in his eyes—something raw, something vulnerable.

Something real.

And for the first time, I thought… maybe he was finally letting me in.