LOGINThe thought pierced me like a blade. My chest tightened, my pulse raced. I imagined him kicking me out, discarding me like the promises he had already broken. It shouldn’t have mattered — I could go to the airport, wait for my flight, leave this place behind. But the thought of him rejecting me again, of him pretending nothing was wrong, pinched my heart until I could barely breathe.And if he had truly come back, if he was here in this room, then one thing was certain: Alice had betrayed me. She must have told him.Otherwise, why would he be here now, just before my departure?He should have been with Annaida, celebrating his birthday with the woman he claimed to love. Not here. Not with me.I lay there in the darkness, trembling, torn between longing and fear. My mind replayed the awful nights when I had called him, texted him, waited endlessly for him to return with an explanation. He never came. He never answered. He never cared.And yet, now, on the cusp of leaving, I felt him ag
PASTShefali’s POVWe left Naina’s place together in the late morning. She was driving to MIT, her future unfolding brightly before her, while mine felt like it was collapsing into shadows. She dropped me at Damon’s apartment, and before she left, we hugged tightly.I tried my best not to cry, but the tears came anyway. I blamed the pregnancy hormones for turning me into a fragile crybaby, but deep down I knew it wasn’t just that. It was grief. It was heartbreak. It was the hollow ache of knowing I was leaving behind everything I had once believed was my world.Barely three hours after I returned, I threw myself into packing. The suitcases I had ordered arrived, their presence both practical and symbolic — containers for my escape, vessels for my severed ties. I had already made up my mind: I would only take what was truly mine. The things I had bought with my own money, the gifts from my parents, the tokens from Naina, my books, my notes, the essentials that carried pieces of my iden
The next morning, when I opened my eyes, the weight of the night before still pressed heavily against my chest. My body felt fragile, my mind restless, and yet there was a strange clarity in the fog of despair. With trembling hands, I reached for my phone, my fingers shaking as though the device itself carried the burden of my choices. I didn’t hesitate long. I quickly booked my ticket to India — scheduled just a day before my birthday.The decision felt impulsive, reckless even, but at the same time it was the only thing that made sense. I needed distance. I needed clarity. I needed my parents. Their voices, their presence, their wisdom — all of it had become a lifeline in my imagination. I longed for the comfort of home, for the familiarity of their embrace, for the strength I knew I would find in their guidance.University wasn’t a concern. Damon had made sure everything was available online — my classes, my lectures, my submissions, all accessible with a click. The infrastructure
PASTShefali’s POVMy heart thudded so violently I thought it might break free from my chest. My hands trembled as I tore open the first pregnancy kit, the sterile plastic feeling heavier than it should. I poured the sample, my breath shallow, my pulse roaring in my ears. The seconds stretched into eternity. I could hear the faint hum of the ceiling fan, the distant traffic outside, even the sound of Naina’s impatient tapping on the desk.And then, finally, the result appeared.Negative.I exhaled sharply, as though I had been holding my breath for days. Relief washed over me in a wave so strong I nearly collapsed.“See? I told you. Not pregnant,” I sighed, forcing a weak smile, clinging to the fragile hope that my nightmare was over.But Naina wasn’t convinced. Her eyes narrowed, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Take another one. Just for my satisfaction.”I wanted to refuse. I wanted to throw the kits away, bury the thought, pretend this moment had never happened. But her insiste
PASTShefali’s POVThe cab ride back to Damon’s apartment felt endless. The city lights blurred past the window, neon streaks dissolving into shadows, but I barely noticed. My body was weak, my mind heavy, and yet something inside me had hardened.I wasn’t going to run anymore.I wasn’t going to hide behind tears or sickness.I would face him.The building loomed ahead, tall and glittering, its glass façade reflecting the night sky like a mirror. To the world, it was luxury. To me, it was a cage. A gilded prison where I had been kept, adored and discarded, loved and broken.The elevator ride up was suffocating. Each floor that ticked past felt like a countdown to something inevitable. My heart thudded against my ribs, my palms damp, my breath shallow.When the doors slid open, silence greeted me.The apartment was exactly as I had left it — immaculate, cold, untouched. His scent that intoxicating mix of musk and spice, had faded, like a ghost.I dropped my bag on the couch and stood i
I don’t know how long I stayed locked inside that washroom. Time dissolved into pain.First came the sickness — violent, uncontrollable. I bent over and puked until my lungs burned, until my body shook with exhaustion.Then came the tears. Endless, merciless tears that clawed their way out of me until I was nothing but a hollow shell. I cried my heart out, sobbing until my throat was raw, until my chest ached, until there was simply nothing left to give.When the tears finally dried and my body surrendered to silence, I sat there trembling, staring at my reflection in the cracked mirror above the sink. My makeup was smeared, mascara streaking down my cheeks like war paint, lipstick faded into a ghost of color. I looked broken.But then, slowly, I began to wipe it all away.Each stroke of the tissue felt like peeling back a layer of fog. Erasing the smudges, clearing the stains, I felt something shift inside me — as if an invisible veil had lifted.For the first time in weeks, I could







