As the soft morning light filtered through the sheer curtains, Aarav's eyes fluttered open. The memory of the previous night brought a tender smile to his lips, a warmth that lingered in his chest. The quiet of the room was punctuated by the gentle sound of water dripping from the bathroom. Moments later, the door creaked open and Ahana emerged, her hair still damp, cascading in dark, glossy waves down her shoulders. She wore his oversized shirt, the fabric loose on her petite frame, the morning sun catching the curves of her form subtly, making her presence both playful and intimate.

She approached him slowly, a teasing glint in her eyes, and pressed her lips lightly to his in a soft, lingering kiss. "Mujhe nahi pata tha yeh painter itna bold aur sexy hoga! Ab main chahti hoon tum mere liye ek special painting banao," she whispered, her voice a mix of mischief and warmth.

Aarav blinked, a small, amused smile tugging at his lips. "Kaise painting?" he asked, his voice husky from sleep, his fingers instinctively brushing a loose strand of hair from her face.

Ahana's lips curved into a knowing smile as she leaned closer, her hands brushing against his chest. "Kal raat... tumne mujhe mehsus kiya puri tarah se. Ab main chahti hoon tum uss feeling ko canvas par utaro. I promise, yeh painting sirf humare bedroom ke liye hogi," she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief and affection.

Aarav chuckled softly, shaking his head in admiration. "Aapka hukum sarakho par," he replied, his voice gentle, filled with a quiet devotion.

She laughed, the sound light and melodic, and ruffled his hair affectionately. "Chalo, ready ho jao. Aaj Switzerland ghoomna hai!" she said, her excitement infectious, the energy in the room shifting to one of anticipation and playful joy.

Aarav reached for her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, feeling the pulse of her excitement. "Haan... chalo," he murmured, smiling as he let himself be swept up in the warmth and spontaneity of the morning, their shared laughter blending with the soft sunlight that danced across the room.

Aarav got ready, adjusting his shirt and running a hand through his hair, a small, sleepy smile lingering on his lips. Ahana, radiant in casual elegance, tugged him gently by the hand as they stepped out into the crisp Swiss morning. The city was bathed in soft sunlight, the cobblestone streets glinting under the glow, cafes and shops lining the avenues with colorful displays, and the distant mountains framed the skyline like a perfect painting.

Ahana didn't let go of his hand for a single moment, her fingers intertwined with his as if anchoring him to the present, to her, and to the joy of the day. She laughed freely, the sound carrying like a bell in the quiet streets, and pulled him toward every picturesque corner. She clicked selfies with him, cheek pressed against his shoulder, her hair catching the sunlight, eyes sparkling with mischief and affection.

At times, she leaned into him, guiding him to strike playful, romantic poses, asking passersby to capture their moments. "Ek aur, yahan se!" she chirped, her excitement contagious. Aarav's laughter, low and genuine, mingled with hers, the sound of ease and trust replacing the tension he once carried in these streets.

Ahana's heart swelled with happiness. Finally, she could see him letting go-the bitter memories of Switzerland, the anxiety that had haunted him, all softened by the warmth they shared. Each laugh, each touch, each shared glance was like a small thread, weaving a new tapestry of peace and love over the past's shadow. For the first time, Aarav seemed truly free, and Ahana's heart soared at being the one to give him that gift.

Mumbai

Anirudh reached home, the heavy door clicking shut behind him. Silence greeted him-Myra wasn't there. Her belongings were gone from the bedroom; the neatly folded clothes, her scattered trinkets, even the faint scent of her perfume had vanished. He sank onto the edge of the bed, a long, weary sigh escaping his lips. Where had she gone?

His mind drifted back over the past six months, recalling her words-the sharp reminders, the confessions, and the vulnerability she had shared:

"Ani! Aarav apni marzi se gaya tha ghar se! Stop punishing me," she had said, her voice trembling but firm, the weight of frustration and regret lacing each word.

"Manti hun, humse gunah hua, uski saza mili na... ab toh aage badho," she had continued, a soft plea hidden beneath her usual boldness, urging him to let go of guilt and move forward.

"Tum na mujhe dekhte ho, meri tareef chodo... seedhe muh baat bhi nahi karte mujhse," she had accused, her tone sharp, almost cutting through the air like a blade.

And finally, the words that had haunted him most:
"Apne bhai ki takleef yaad hai tumhe, par wo pyaar nahi jo kabhi hamare beech tha... bhoolna mat, inn sabki shuruwat tumne ki... meri zabardasti Aarav se shaadi karake, yeh jante hue bhi, how much I loved you!"

Anirudh closed his eyes, pressing his palms over his face as a mix of regret and helplessness surged through him. Myra was gone, yet her presence lingered like a shadow, her words echoing in the empty rooms of the house. Six months of tension, guilt, and unspoken truths-all of it converged in this moment, leaving him feeling more alone than ever.

He lowered his hands slowly, staring at the empty space where she once stood. The house was quiet, but his heart thundered with the memories of what was lost and the choices he could never undo.

Anirudh stood in the center of the empty bedroom, the faint echo of his own heartbeat louder than any sound in the house. His gaze fell on the vacant spaces where Myra's belongings once lay. A tight knot of frustration and longing twisted in his chest.

"Jab duniya mujhe najayas kehti rahi, tab usne hi toh mujhe pyaar diya tha... Aarav ke baad... I need to bring her back!" he whispered to himself, his voice trembling with determination and raw emotion.

Without another thought, he grabbed his jacket, the weight of urgency pressing down on his shoulders. Each step down the staircase echoed in the silent house, as if marking the rhythm of his resolve. He flung open the front door, letting the cold evening air wash over him, and stepped out into the streets.

The city sprawled ahead, lights flickering like tiny beacons, but his focus was unshakable. He began searching, weaving through streets and alleyways, scanning every familiar corner, asking for her in cafes, shops, even at quiet parks where she might have gone to escape. Each passing minute intensified his worry, his heartbeat syncing with the urgency of his mission.

This wasn't just about finding Myra-it was about reclaiming the one person who had believed in him, loved him, and seen beyond his mistakes. No matter the distance, no matter the obstacles, Anirudh vowed to bring her back into his life.

Myra slumped over the bar, her head resting heavily against her arm, the dim, amber glow of the lights reflecting in the glass of whiskey before her. Each sip burned her throat, but she welcomed the sting-it matched the ache inside her chest. She closed her eyes and let the memories wash over her, bittersweet and piercing.

Five years. Five years of love, passion, and shared dreams with Anirudh. Every laugh, every touch, every whispered promise now felt like a cruel reminder of what had been-and what she had lost. She remembered the moment he chose his brother's happiness over hers, letting her marry Aarav without revealing the truth of his blindness. The betrayal stung more than any drink could numb.

Her anger had burned like fire when the truth came out. She had manipulated circumstances, pulling Anirudh and herself into a dangerous game of desire and deception, betraying Aarav in the process. She had wanted her own happiness, even if it meant breaking hearts along the way. But when Aarav discovered the truth, his quiet heartbreak had cut deeper than she ever imagined. His decision to divorce her was a wound she could not soothe.

In the aftermath, she and Anirudh had ended their relationship, stepping back out of respect for the selfless love he held for his brother. Aarav had forgiven, but he refused to remain in a marriage that would always remind him of betrayal. He left home, carrying the weight of his pain and entrusting Anirudh with a promise-to protect her, to keep her safe. And Anirudh had married her, yet the joy was hollow. His eyes often betrayed the hurt of Aarav's absence, and she knew he carried the guilt of not having truly cared for her in that moment of sacrifice.

Why couldn't he just forgive her? She had tried-tried with every ounce of her being to fix the broken pieces-but fate had turned her efforts into dust. Despite everything, a small part of her heart swelled with relief and even happiness that Aarav had finally found his true love, that the man she had betrayed could finally be at peace. Yet, the emptiness beside her, the ache of what could have been, remained an unshakable shadow.

She lifted the glass to her lips, the amber liquid blurring the edges of her vision, and whispered to herself, "I did what I could... but maybe some wounds aren't meant to heal."

Stumbling out of the bar, Myra felt the cold night air slap against her flushed cheeks. Her heels clicked unevenly against the pavement, each step heavier than the last. The city lights blurred in her tear-filled eyes, and the faint hum of traffic faded beneath the hollow echo of her thoughts. She walked aimlessly, her mind replaying every regret, every mistake, until her feet led her to the railway tracks on the edge of the city.

The air there was different-quiet, almost haunting. A faint mist hung low, curling around the steel rails that glimmered beneath the pale moonlight. She stepped onto the track, the metal cold against her feet as if the earth itself was warning her to turn back. But her heart felt too numb to listen.

She looked down the endless stretch of track, a pair of distant headlights glimmering like fate's final call. The approaching train roared faintly in the distance, growing louder with every heartbeat. She closed her eyes, tears streaking down her face, whispering to herself, "Maybe this pain will finally stop."

The ground trembled beneath her. The whistle screamed through the silence. Just as the gust of the train's force rushed toward her, a pair of strong hands grabbed her arm and yanked her backward with desperate strength. She fell into a firm embrace, her breath caught, her body trembling.

When she opened her eyes, she saw him-Anirudh. His face was pale, panic and relief flooding his features. His arms tightened around her as if he feared she might vanish again.

"Myra!" he gasped, his voice breaking. "Pagal ho gayi ho kya? What were you thinking?"

Her tears broke free, falling against his chest as she whispered hoarsely, "I... I had nothing left to live for..."

He pulled her closer, burying his face in her hair. "You have me," he said, his voice raw with emotion. "You'll always have me."

She jerked her hand away from his grasp, her chest heaving with anger and pain. "No, I don't have you!!" she shouted, her voice cracking like a whip in the silent night. Her eyes glimmered with fury, tears streaking down her cheeks. "Tumhe bas apna bhai chahiye tha... hum jab 5 saal relationship mein the na, Aarav ka ek phone aate hi tum mujhe chodke jaate the! Phir tumne meri usse shaadi karadi... mera kabhi nahi socha!"

Her voice broke, a mixture of heartbreak and rage spilling out. "Bewafai maine ki... samajh hi nahi paayi kabhi Aarav ke dil ko, jante ho kyun? Kyuki tumse bahut pyaar karti thi main... lekin Aarav ki achai ne mujhe badal diya... maine khudko uske liye badalne ki koshish ki... par usne toh divorce de hi diya! Wo apni jagah sahi tha... par tum? Tum hamesha... ache bete banke ki koshish karte rahe, ache bhai banne ki... par na ache boyfriend bane, na mere pati!"

She stepped back, her fists clenching and unclenching in frustration. Her voice sharpened like a blade, dripping with betrayal. "I hate you, Ani... I hate you for always hurting me... for never understanding me! I hate you!"

With a forceful shove, she pushed him aside, her movements fueled by years of pent-up pain and resentment. Without waiting for his response, she turned sharply and began walking away, her silhouette fading into the dim glow of the streetlights, leaving him standing there, stunned, guilt and helplessness written all over his face.

Anirudh hurried after her, his heart pounding with urgency and regret. He reached out and gently grabbed her hand, his touch firm yet pleading. "Myra... I am sorry! Galti hum dono se hui... ab sab thik ho gaya hai! Aarav aur Ahana ek ho gaye hain," he said, his voice trembling with a mixture of relief and remorse.

She pulled her hand back slightly, her eyes burning with lingering resentment. "Toh usse kya tumhari aur meri beech ki dooriyan kam ho jayenge? Nahi hongi," she replied sharply, her voice laced with defiance, her shoulders stiff with unresolved anger.

Anirudh's gaze softened, a pained sigh escaping his lips. He stepped closer, lowering his voice, speaking as much to himself as to her. "Myra, manta hun... shayad hamara pyaar ab khatam ho gaya hai... par yaad hai na tumhe? Jab humne apna rishta khatam kiya tha, toh kaha tha ki ek dusre ke dost banke hamesha rahenge." His thumb gently brushed over the back of her hand, a tentative gesture of connection.

His voice wavered, a shadow of guilt hanging in every word. "Aarav ghar se gaya... usne kaha tha he had forgiven me... par phir bhi chala gaya... main bardasht nahi kar paaya, Myra... I am sorry. Uss waqt maine tumse bahut badteemizi ki... tum par se vishwas kho baitha."

He held her hand a little tighter, his eyes searching hers, silently begging her to see the sincerity behind his words. The cool night air wrapped around them, but in that moment, the weight of their shared past, their regrets, and their fragile hope hung thickly between them.

Anirudh's eyes glistened in the dim light as he took a steadying breath, his voice low but charged with the weight of years of regret and longing. "Nayi shuruwat karna chahta hun, Myra...," he began, his hand tightening slightly around hers, a silent plea woven into the gesture.

His gaze drifted downward for a moment, as if gathering the courage to confront the truth he had kept buried. "Bachpan se... najayas, najayas... sirf yeh sunta aaya tha main... tab Aarav ne mujhe pyaar diya... phir tumse mulakat hui..." His eyes lifted to meet hers again, shimmering with a mixture of vulnerability and hope. "Tumne itna pyaar diya mujhe, mera sach jaanne ke baad bhi... Aarav ki maa ne mujhe apna liya, Dad ne bhi pyaar diya, izzat, maan, samaan... sab mil gaya mujhe... par sacha pyaar peeche chut gaya, Myra... tum peeche chut gayi."

His voice cracked slightly at the last words, and a faint tremor ran through his shoulders. Every syllable was heavy with remorse, every pause echoing the years of guilt and longing. The night air seemed to hold its breath around them, the faint distant sounds of the city fading as if the world had narrowed down to this singular, aching confession.

Myra's voice trembled, a fragile mixture of sorrow and resignation, as she looked into Anirudh's eyes. "Bahut der ho gayi hai, Ani..." she whispered, her fingers twisting nervously, unable to meet his full gaze. Her chest rose and fell with the weight of unspoken regrets.

"Tumhari aankhon mein... mere liye pyaar... shayad main kabhi dekh hi nahi paungi," she continued, her voice breaking slightly. "Kyuki tumhare dil mein hamesha yeh rahega ki maine... aur tumne... Aarav ke saath galat kiya."

She paused, letting the words hang in the air, heavy and suffocating, before finishing with a whisper laced with finality: "Shayad kuch galtiyan... kabhi thik nahi hoti, Ani... kabhi nahi."

Her gaze fell to the ground, her hands clasped tightly together as silent tears threatened to spill, her heart aching with the weight of the choices they had made and the love that had slipped through their fingers.

Anirudh's hands gently cupped Myra's face, his thumbs brushing away the stray tears that glistened on her cheeks. His eyes, deep pools of sincerity and remorse, locked onto hers as he spoke, his voice low but unwavering.

"Nahi Myra... tumne toh mere Aaru ko Ahana di hai," he said, a soft smile breaking through the anguish, "apne aap ko paap se mukt kiya hai... aur dekho, yeh Myra, jo sirf apne baare mein sochti thi, aaj sabka khayal karti hai! Tumne sabko khush dekhne ke liye... buri banne ka natak kiya... hmm... bata sakti thi na mujhe sab?"

Myra shook her head violently, her hands trembling as she tried to push him away. "Tum sunte? Samajhte mujhe? Nahi Ani... nahi karte tum!" she cried, her voice breaking, the weight of guilt and hurt spilling out in desperate sobs.

Anirudh leaned closer, his forehead resting gently against hers, his breath mingling with hers. "I am sorry, Myra... ek mauka do... hamare rishte ko," he whispered, each word carrying the gravity of years of regret, love, and longing. His eyes searched hers, pleading for understanding, for forgiveness, for the chance to start anew.

For a moment, the world around them seemed to pause-the distant hum of the city, the cold night air, all fading away-leaving only the fragile, raw connection between two hearts desperate to heal.

Myra's shoulders sagged as she sank slightly, the weight of exhaustion and heartbreak evident in every tremor of her body. Her voice, barely above a whisper, carried the ache of years spent fighting, proving herself, and hiding her own pain.

"Nahi Ani... ab aur main ladh nahi sakti... haar gayi hun main... apne aap ko sabit karte karte..." she said, tears glistening in her eyes, her hands clenching at her sides as if holding onto the last fragments of her strength.

Anirudh stepped closer, his presence steady, warm, and grounding. He gently lifted her chin with a finger, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Ab tumhe kisiko kuch sabit nahi karna hai, Myra," he said softly, his voice laced with quiet determination. "I still care for you... pyaar bhi karta hun."

Her eyes widened, disbelief mingling with a fragile hope. "Sach?" she whispered, her voice trembling as her heart dared to hope.

Anirudh cupped her face in both hands, his thumbs brushing tenderly against her cheeks. "Haan, Myra... sach. Bahut dukh jheele hai... ab sukh chahta hun... tumhare saath," he said, each word deliberate, heartfelt, carrying the promise of a new beginning.

For a moment, Myra felt the walls she had built around her heart begin to crumble. The pain of the past, the guilt, the loneliness-all of it softened under the warmth of his gaze and the sincerity of his words. She let out a shaky breath and allowed herself to lean into him, just slightly, as if testing whether this moment could be real... and it was.

Anirudh extended his hand toward her, his eyes soft yet filled with quiet insistence, a silent plea woven into the warmth of his gaze. "Wapas chalo mere saath... iss baar Ani tumse koi sacrifice nahi mangega, aur na dukh dega," he said, his voice steady but tender, carrying the weight of everything they had endured.

For a moment, Myra hesitated, her heart racing, memories of past mistakes and pain tugging at her resolve. Then, slowly, she lifted her hand and placed it in his, feeling the steady strength of his grip wrap around her fingers. A small shiver of trust ran through her as she let herself lean into him, letting go of the fears that had held her captive for so long.

Side by side, they began walking, the world around them fading into a quiet blur. Every step felt lighter, each heartbeat in sync, as if the universe itself was acknowledging the fragile yet undeniable bond they shared. The wind whispered softly around them, carrying away the shadows of the past, leaving only hope and the promise of a new beginning.

They walked in silence for a few moments, the city lights fading behind them, replaced by the soft glow of the evening sky. The weight of unspoken words hung between them, but it no longer felt suffocating-it felt like a bridge they were finally ready to cross together.

Anirudh led her to a quiet park, far from the clamor of the streets, where the rustle of leaves and distant chirping of birds created a serene cocoon around them. They stopped near a small fountain, the gentle trickle of water echoing like a soothing lullaby.

He turned to her, cupping her face tenderly, his thumbs brushing away stray tears she hadn't realized were falling. "Myra tumne kabhi mujhse kyun nahi kaha kuch?," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

She looked up at him, her eyes glistening, a mix of vulnerability and relief. "Ani... main... main hamesha sochti rahi... kya tum mujhe kabhi maaf kar paoge? Kya hum... kya hum phir se shuru kar sakte hain?" she whispered, her voice trembling with hope.

He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he leaned closer, pressing his forehead gently against hers. "Hamesha, Myra. Tumhare saath phir se... har dard ke baad bhi, har galti ke baad bhi... main tumhare saath hoon. Hum shuru karenge, bina dar ke, bina bojh ke. Sirf hum dono, aur sachcha pyaar."

Her lips curved into a shaky smile, and she closed the distance, resting her head on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. For the first time in months, she felt safe, understood, and loved-not as someone who had made mistakes, but as herself.

Anirudh wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as the night sky unfolded above them, stars twinkling silently like blessings. "Chalo," he murmured, "ab humari nayi shuruwat ka waqt hai."

And in that quiet, starlit sanctuary, they let the past fall away, letting trust, forgiveness, and love guide every step forward.