Chapter 7

I slammed back into reality, into the ache threatening to crush my lungs.

My eyes burned. My throat tightened.

Looking at those headlines... those pictures... it was like that memory got stabbed and bled right before me.

Why, Raghav?

Why did you break the forever we promised?

I squeezed my phone, forcing back the sob. I could feel everyone around me still laughing, still breathing, still living.

And here I was... suffocating.

My friends glanced at the screen.

"She's so lucky," one sighed, leaning over. "Raghav is... God, imagine being married to him."

Lucky.

That word made my stomach turn.

Is she? Is Natasha lucky?

Lucky to share his last name but not his heart?

Lucky to live in a house where she's a guest in her own marriage?

Lucky to cook meals for a man who never comes home?

No. No, she isn't.

But... she's still his wife.

And me?

I'm the past.

I'm the secret. The shadow. The heartbreak he left behind.

Or... am I?

I closed my eyes, taking a trembling breath.

What if... what if he starts falling for her?

What if... he never divorces her?

What if... I lose him? For real. Forever.

My chest tightened. Panic. Fear. Betrayal. All wrapped together.

***

My hands trembled as I clutched my phone, calling him for what must have been the tenth time. Each ring felt like a hammer against my chest, echoing the silence he left me in.

No answer.

Again.

I stared at the screen. "Call ended."

The air felt heavy, pressing against my lungs as if it, too, was refusing to let me breathe. The warmth of the afternoon sun suddenly felt like it was mocking me.

I redialed. Again.

Still no response.

Why wasn't he picking up?

"Raghav," I whispered, tears threatening to spill from the corners of my eyes. "Pick up. Please. Just once."

I sat there in my car, parked outside the university, my mind spiraling with fear. A storm of thoughts whipped around inside me.

Was he ignoring me on purpose?

Was he with her?

Had I truly lost him?

The images from the news article haunted me, that dance, that kiss, the way his hand rested on Natasha's waist.

No. This couldn't be it. This couldn't be the end of us.

I gripped the steering wheel and turned the key in the ignition. I needed to see him. I needed to hear it from him, face-to-face. Not from headlines or whispers or silence.

I drove, each second dragging like a lifetime.

But instead of going to his house, my instincts turned the wheel toward his office. Maybe he was there. Maybe... maybe he wasn't ignoring me. Maybe something had happened. Maybe he was busy.

Hope. That awful, clinging hope still lived somewhere inside me.

The massive glass building loomed ahead, sleek and intimidating. A place where he built his empire. Where he became the man everyone admired.

But to me, he was still the boy who once held my hand in a school hallway and promised to love me forever.

I parked and rushed out, my heels clicking sharply on the polished pavement. My heart thundered in my chest.

As I neared the entrance, the security guard noticed me.

"Kiyara madam? You here?" he asked, eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Yes," I replied breathlessly. "Where's Raghav?"

"Sir was here a little while ago," the guard said, checking his log. "He's in a meeting. He should be back very soon."

Meeting?

I nodded stiffly and entered through the glass doors. The familiar scent of polished wood and cologne filled the space. I'd been here countless times before, back when things were simpler, before the world turned upside down.

I didn't wait for permission. My feet carried me straight through the lobby and up the elevator. I knew the way. Every floor, every corner. I had memorized it all.

As the elevator dinged and the doors slid open, I stepped out and headed down the hallway, past sleek glass-walled offices and quiet assistants who glanced at me but said nothing.

I reached the executive floor, my heart still pounding, and walked into the room I knew so well.

Only to stop dead in my tracks.

Natasha