Reeva walked away to feed Falak, leaving Jhanvi alone with her thoughts. Jhanvi sighed, her hand moving instinctively to her phone. 

She opened her gallery and scrolled until she reached the "Mussoorie" album. She tapped on a picture of Aryan—a candid shot she had taken secretly when he wasn't looking.

"Dil bhi kitna pagal hota hai na," she whispered to herself, her thumb hovering over the screen.

 "Jo naseeb mein nahi, uske liye kya-kya karne ko taiyar hai."

Her moment of quiet longing was broken by Reeva calling out from the kitchen.

"Jhanvi! Sun na, bahar dilevery wala aa gaya hai saaman lekar. Ek baar jaake list match kar lena!"

Jhanvi nodded, quickly locking her phone and heading outside. 

The morning air was crisp as she began checking the inventory against her list.

As she was marking off the items, a flash of bright color on the road caught her eye. 

A small child was chasing a runaway balloon, running straight into the path of an oncoming truck.

Her eyes widened.

She dropped the clipboard and sprinted toward the boy. She reached him just in time, shoving him toward the sidewalk. 

But as she tried to pull herself back, she realized she was too slow. The truck was seconds away, the roar of the engine deafening. She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for a fatal impact.

Suddenly, her mind didn't go dark. It exploded with a vivid, terrifyingly real vision.

She saw herself, her hair flying in the wind. A truck was hurtling toward her. 

Just as the metal was about to crush her, a pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her back into a hard, protective chest. 

She looked up, and the face staring down at her with pure, raw terror and love was 

Aryan.

"Anjali!" the memory-voice screamed.

Jhanvi's eyes snapped open. The truck had screeched to a halt just inches away from her. 

"Tu pagal hai?! Khadi kyun thi wahan?!" Reeva yelled, her voice thick with panic.

Jhanvi couldn't speak. She just stared at the spot where the truck had almost hit her, the vision replaying in her mind like a movie. 

She clutched her heart, which was thrumming so loudly it felt like it would burst through her ribs.

Jay came running out of the cafe, breathless. "Tum dono theek ho? Jhanvi?"

Jhanvi slowly shook her head, unable to explain that the pain wasn't physical. 

She didn't tell them about the vision or whatever it was. 

Maybe it's a hallucination, she told herself. Maybe the trauma from Dev is making me see things.

She turned to the little boy, who was now safe in his mother's arms, sobbing. Jhanvi knelt down, her hand trembling as she stroked his hair. 

"Aise road pe bhagte nahi hain bacche, hmm?" she said softly. The boy nodded, and Jhanvi gave him a small, shaky smile before standing up.

As they walked back into the cafe, the familiar sound of Reeva and Jay bickering over the tea order filled the air. 

But Jhanvi was in a trance.

Meanwhile, at the hotel 

the atmosphere was somber.

 Aryan was holding a sleeping Advika, his gaze fixed on her small, peaceful face. Aahan was busy checking them out at the front desk, while Arushi stood nearby, holding  Veer.

Arushi looked at Aryan, seeing the hollowness in his eyes. She took a deep breath. 

"Airport jaane se pehle... ek baar cafe rukein? Just to say goodbye?"

Aryan's grip on Advika tightened slightly. He stared at the exit of the hotel, his heart pulling him toward the cafe while his mind screamed at him to run. 

He slowly shook his head.

"Nahi," he whispered, his voice thick with a pain he couldn't hide. 

"Usey na dekhun toh behtar hai. Agar dekh liya... toh jaa nahi paunga."

Arushi nodded sadly, turning away.

But inside, Aryan's soul was screaming a different story. Every fiber of his being was begging for a miracle. 

Just once, he thought. Just once, come to me and tell me to stay. Don't let me take this silence back to Delhi. Anjali, if you're in there, just give me one reason not to leave.

He walked toward the car, each step feeling like he was leaving his life behind on the pavement of Rishikesh.

Author's POV:

The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting long, bruised shadows across Jhanvi's room. 

Tonight was her Sangeet—the night of music and celebration—but the only sound Jhanvi could hear was the frantic, uneven rhythm of her own heart.

She sat before the mirror, dressed in a heavy, shimmering lehenga, her hair perfectly styled, but her eyes were fixed on nothing. 

Every time she blinked, the vision from earlier returned with terrifying clarity. 

The screech of tires, the smell of burnt rubber, and those arms. Those arms that felt more like home than any bed she had slept in for the last four years.

"Kya main tumse pehle mil chuki hoon, Aryan?" she whispered to her reflection.

 "Lekin agar hum phele mile hote toh mumma-papa toh batate hi"

The conflict inside her was a violent storm.

 On one side was the life she knew—the parents she loved, the cafe, and the terrifying shadow of Dev.

On the other side was a ghost of her past.

She glanced at the clock. The flight was leaving in less than two hours.

"Agar main nahi gayi... toh phir use kabhi nhi dekh paungi" she thought, her eyes hardening with a sudden, desperate resolve.

 "Sirf ek akhri baar milna hai mujhe use"

She picked up her dupatta and crept toward the door. She opened it a crack, her breath catching in her throat.

Downstairs, in the living room, Dev was sitting on the sofa, calmly discussing the evening's arrangements with Mrs. Bisht. 

He looked perfectly at ease, yet his presence was like a poisonous fog.

Jhanvi pulled back, her heart hammering. If she tried to walk out the front door, Dev would see her. 

And if he saw her dressed for the Sangeet trying to go to the airport, he wouldn't just stop her—he would destroy Aryan before the plane even touched the sky.

"Samne se gayi toh dev hazar sawal karega" she panicked. "Lekin jana toh hoga."

She turned toward her bedroom window. She looked down at the height; it was a terrifying drop, but the fear of staying was greater than the fear of falling. 

She quickly kicked off her heavy heels and pulled on a pair of sneakers hidden in her closet, tucking the long skirt of her lehenga into her waistband to keep from tripping.

With trembling hands, she climbed onto the ledge. 

One deep breath, a silent prayer, and she jumped.

She landed hard on the grass, the impact jarring her knees, but she didn't stop. She scrambled to her feet, her chest heaving, and turned to run toward the back gate. 

She was almost there.

But as she rounded the corner of the garden wall, she slammed into a wall of solid muscle. 

The scent of expensive cologne and stale tobacco instantly filled her lungs, and a cold, familiar dread washed over her.

"Bhag rahi ho, Gulaab?"

Jhanvi stiffened, her blood turning to ice. She slowly looked up into the dark, 

unblinking eyes of Dev.

He stood there in the shadows, his hands tucked into his pockets, 

a slow, predatory smirk spreading across his face.

"Maine socha tha ki aaj ki shaam hum ek saath bitayenge," Dev whispered, his voice a jagged,

 chilling melody as he stepped closer, trapping her against the stone wall.

"Par tum toh... hawa se baatein karne chali ho. Kahan ja rahi thi tum? Airport?"

She looked up in shock..

He reached out, his cold fingers tracing the line of her trembling jaw.

"Tumhe kya lga mujhe nhi pata hoga..hmm"

Jhanvi's legs gave out, and she sank to the grass, her heavy lehenga pooling around her like a puddle of crushed silk. 

She grabbed Dev's forearms, her fingers digging into his expensive suit as she looked up at him with eyes wide and swimming in tears.

"I... I am sorry, Dev... I'm so sorry!" she choked out, her voice a frantic, broken whisper. 

"Maine-bhaag nhi rahi thi..ma-maine bus usee e-ek akhri baar milna chati thi please i-i am sorry use kuch mat karna..please aryan ko kuch mat karna "

Dev looked down at her, his expression unreadable, his eyes as dark and cold as the bottom of a grave. 

He stood there for a moment, letting her beg, savoring the way her fear for another man made her cling to him.

"Aaj humara Sangeet hai, Gulaab," he finally said, his voice dropping to a terrifyingly calm, silky tone. 

"Isliye aaj ke liye- sirf aaj ke liye mai tumahri ye galti maaf kar raha hoon..lekin meri khamoshi ko meri kamzori mat samjhna hmm"

He leaned down, his face inches from hers, his breath cold against her skin.

"Batunga toh tumhe zaroor ki main kya kar sakta hoon,Jab koi mujhe dhoka dene ki koshish karta hai toh"

He stood up abruptly, brushing his sleeves as if he had just touched something soiled, and walked away toward the house without looking back. 

Jhanvi remained crouched on the ground, her body shaking with silent, racking sobs. The golden cage had finally slammed shut, and she was the one who had handed him the key.

Meanwhile;

The sterile, white lights of the departure lounge felt blinding. The overhead speakers crackled with a rhythmic, mechanical monotone: 

"Final boarding call for Flight 6E-2104 to New Delhi. Passengers are requested to proceed to Gate 4."

Aahan patted Aryan's shoulder. 

"Bhai... chalna chahiye. Boarding shuru ho gayi hai."

Aryan stood near the glass window, his silhouette reflected against the darkening runway. On the outside, he was a statue of composure—mature, silent, and resigned.

 He picked up Advika, who was rubbing her sleepy eyes, and began to walk toward the gate.

But inside, his mind was a battlefield of screaming silences.

his soul cried out with every heavy step.

He handed his boarding pass to the attendant, his hand steady even though his heart was shattering into a million jagged pieces.

 As he walked through the tunnel toward the plane, he felt a sudden, sharp pang in his chest—the same phantom pain he felt the night of the accident.

"Main ja raha hoon, jaan. Main tumhari yaadon ko is shehar mein chhod kar ja raha hoon taaki tum sukoon se jee sako.Kismat ne chaha toh phir milenge"

He didn't look back. He couldn't. If he saw the empty entrance of the airport one more time, he knew he would drop everything and run back to her.

A Note to My Beautiful Readers (Yes, You!) 🦋

"The 'Oh-No-' Phase"

I know, I know! You probably want to throw your phone across the room right now. Aryan is on a plane to Delhi, Jhanvi is shaking in a corner, and Dev is out here acting like he's the main character of a psychological thriller (which, to be fair, he is).

But take a deep breath! Remember, in a world of Dev Singhanias, destiny is the ultimate plot-twister. If you think a 45-minute flight can stop a love that survived a literal car crash and four years of memory loss, you haven't seen enough Bollywood!

Hold onto your seats (and your hearts), because while Dev thinks he's writing the script, the ink hasn't dried on the last page yet.

Grab some tissues and some popcorn—Kyuki Picture abhi baki hai doston....

-------------------------------xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx--------------------------------

"Kabhi-kabhi lagta hai ke sab khatam ho gaya, Ke taqdeer ne aakhri panna palat diya hai. Magar kuch dastaanein kagaz ki mohtaj nahi hoti, Woh rooh par likhi hoti hain, jinhe waqt bhi nahi mita sakta.

Mohabbat ke us adhoore safar ko abhi mukammal hona baaki hai, Abhi toh sirf aankhein mudi hain, dil ka milna baaki hai. Bhale hi aaj raston ne judaai ka rukh kar liya ho, Par us khamosh dua mein, aaj bhi tera hi naam baaki hai."

~EIRA