!!Story Time!!
Justin P.O.V
Her words hit like shrapnel—soft, broken, but sharp enough to pierce straight through me.
*"Do you have any idea what it did to me—thinking everything between us was a lie?"*
I couldn't answer. Because *yes*, I did know. And the knowledge of it has never stopped burning inside me.
I stood there, watching her—the tremble in her voice, the way she held herself like she was trying to stay upright in a storm. A storm I had created.
I wanted to fall to my knees right there. Apologize until the silence between us melted. But I knew an apology would never be enough.
"And yet," she said, stepping toward me, her voice laced with disbelief and pain, "*here I am.* Still asking *why*, when I should've walked away long ago."
My jaw clenched.
Because she should've. God knows, it would've made things easier. Safer. Cleaner.
But she hadn't.
And that shattered me more than anything else.
Then came the words that undid everything I had built to keep myself distant.
*"Because no matter how hard I try, I can't unlove you, Justin."*
I froze.
I had imagined her saying that a hundred times—back when things between us still held warmth and wonder. But this? This broken version? It destroyed me.
She hated how much she still felt. I could see it in her eyes. The way she looked at me like I was both the wound and the cure.
"I wish I could hate you," she breathed, her voice fraying. "I *want* to hate you."
So do it. Please. Hate me. Because that would be easier than this—this fragile thread of hope still hanging between us, refusing to snap.
I stepped toward her without thinking, my heart thundering like it wanted to escape my chest. I raised my hand slowly, giving her every chance to pull away.
She didn't.
My fingers brushed her cheek. Her skin was cold. A single tear slid down, and I wiped it away with my thumb like it was sacred.
She didn't step back. Didn't flinch.
And I broke.
Because I remembered everything too.
The way she laughed—God, the way she *used* to laugh. The nights I memorized her voice. The mornings I forced myself not to call. And the moment I knew I was too far gone to ever let go.
I didn't deserve her forgiveness. Hell, I didn't even deserve this moment.
But when she leaned in, I didn't stop her.
Our lips met, tentative, trembling. There was no fire in this kiss. No hunger. Just pain and longing, colliding in silence.
I kissed her like it was the only thing anchoring me to the earth. Like she was the only good thing I had left to lose.
And she kissed me like it still hurt to love me.
When we pulled apart, our foreheads touched, breath mingling in the chilled air. I kept my eyes closed, trying to memorize this second—because I didn't know if I'd ever get another.
"This changes nothing," she whispered.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I know," I murmured. "But maybe… it changes something."
Even if that something was just hope.
Even if it was only the beginning of an end done right.
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**Radhika's POV**
Even if it was only the beginning of an end done right.
His words lingered in the cold space between us, warm in a way that scared me more than silence ever could.
I pulled back—not because I wanted to, but because I had to. His forehead was still pressed to mine, but I stepped away a fraction. Just enough to breathe again. Just enough to remind myself that I was still me.
The me who had spent weeks trying to unfeel everything.
My fingers still tingled from where they'd curled against the front of his jacket. My lips still remembered the tremble in his. The restraint. The ache.
I hated how gentle he was being. Hated how, even now, he knew just how to touch me without unmaking me.
God, I had told myself I was stronger than this.
But strength doesn't always mean standing tall. Sometimes, it's just surviving the wreckage and still daring to speak.
"I don't know what this means," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
He looked at me then—really looked at me—and that broke something in me all over again.
Because he wasn't hiding.
Not behind half-truths. Not behind excuses. Not behind that unbearable calm he wore like armor.
Just him. Raw. Wrecked. Human.
"I'm not asking for anything," he said. "Not yet."
A pause.
"I just needed you to know it wasn't all a lie. What we had—it was real. *You* were real."
I bit the inside of my cheek so hard it hurt. Anything to keep the tears from falling again.
Because I wanted to believe him. God, I wanted to believe him so badly.
But belief was a risk. And I'd gambled everything once before.
And still… I couldn't walk away.
Not yet.
"I hate that you still matter to me," I murmured, barely audible.
He didn't flinch. Just nodded, as if that confession meant more than anything else I could've said.
And maybe it did.
Because we stood there for another moment—two broken people caught between goodbye and maybe.
A breeze cut through the night, lifting strands of my hair across my face. I tucked them back, slowly. Deliberately. Buying time I didn't have, for a decision I wasn't ready to make.
"I need time, Justin."
"I'll wait."
He said it so simply. No desperation. No pressure.
Just promise.
I turned away before he could see the tears return. But I didn't run. Not this time.
And maybe that was enough.
For now.
---
After returning from there, I slipped quietly back into the hall, where the festivities were still in full swing. But before anyone could notice the storm behind my eyes, I headed straight to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face. I didn't want anyone to look at me and see the truth—that I'd been crying.
I don't know why, but something had settled in my chest. A fear, maybe. An emotion I couldn't name. A feeling that if I gave in again, if I allowed myself to trust him once more… I might be setting myself up for heartbreak all over again.
The tears had come before I even realized it. Silent, steady, unwelcome.
I dried my face, took a deep breath, and stepped out, weaving through the crowd to rejoin my friends. Ishika spotted me immediately.
"There you are! Where've you been? We've been looking all over for you."
"Nowhere really," I said with a small smile. "Just stepped out. Had to take an urgent call."
"Let me guess—your brother?" Akanksha chimed in, raising a brow.
"Yeah, something about the shipment," I replied casually. "But forget all that."
I changed the subject quickly, letting the conversation drift into safer waters. Laughter, teasing, the usual chaos of old friends.
But inside, a storm was still raging.
I didn't need time. I knew my answer already. I could give it to him right now if he asked. And my answer would be this—I want to be with him. Because life without him doesn't feel like living anymore.
But just a while ago, I'd told my brother something dangerous. That either my hands would be stained with blood… or with henna. He hadn't said anything then. But I know my brother too well.
The truth is, the answer I want to give will crack something deep between us—between me and the only family I've ever truly leaned on. It might be a small fracture... or it might be a chasm. Bitter. Unforgiving. Ugly.
I don't know.
But I do know this—he won't accept Justin so easily. Not now. Maybe not ever. There's a history there, some kind of animosity between them that I've never been allowed to understand. But whatever it is, I saw the fury in my brother's eyes that day. It wasn't ordinary. It wasn't passing.
And I know—no matter what face he puts on, no matter how much he pretends for my sake—he won't be happy with my choice.
Not with *him.*
Not with *us.*
But this time, I might just choose my heart anyway.
---
Next Day.....
Ishika P.O.V
My alarm rang, and I jolted awake. Not that I had slept much—maybe two hours at most before dawn crept in. The rest of the night had been spent tossing in thoughts too heavy to silence.
Still, I rose quickly, got dressed in record time. Because today… today was going to be interesting.
I pulled out the report from my cupboard, tucked it into my bag, and left for work. I'm a crime reporter—and lately, I'd finally had the time to really dig into things. That's when I realized how big a mistake I'd been making—cutting myself off from my friends, from Sahil, and living in isolation, as if it was a strength.
Without a second thought, I texted Sahil from a new number, sending him the address of a location where I wanted to meet.
Now, I stood outside a towering building in Matheran, staring up at its glass facade. The receptionist had sent me straight through to a private office that looked more like a CEO's suite than anything else. It was elegant, quiet… *too* quiet.
But it wouldn't stay that way.
Inside, a woman was seated at a polished desk, working intently, unaware of my presence.
Funny, how trouble never announces itself. It just *arrives*—uninvited, silent, dangerous.
I stepped up to her desk and slammed a file onto the polished wood. Then took the seat across from her like I belonged there.
"What the hell is this?" she snapped, eyes flashing as she looked up. "And who the hell let you in?"
"I thought you'd forgotten me," I said with a smile that didn't reach my eyes. "But I never imagined you'd go *this* far."
"What nonsense are you talking about?" she said, standing abruptly, her voice edged with fury.
I calmly took the file I had thrown and set it back down—deliberate, slow. Then I rose from my seat and moved around the desk until I was standing just inches from her.
"Did you really think you could play such a disgusting little game and I wouldn't figure it out?" I said, my voice low and razor-sharp. "At first, I let it go. I was angry, distracted. And you played it well—I'll give you that. But you made one mistake. You shouldn't have gotten a tattoo… or at the very least, you should've sent a *different* girl."
She blinked, startled—but tried to hide her fear behind a mask of false confidence.
"This is absurd," she scoffed, though her eyes darted, unsettled.
I laughed softly, the sound laced with venom. My hand reached out, grabbed a fistful of her highlighted brown hair, and yanked it back. She gasped and instinctively clutched her head in defense.
"What I did two years ago," I said through clenched teeth, "was my job. But what *you* did to get revenge? That crossed a line."
"You wanted revenge?" I hissed. "Fine. But you're a fool, Sakshi. You could've paid *anyone*—there are girls who would've done it for cash. But no. You sent one of your *own employees*. The same girl with your company's damn logo tattooed on her shoulder."
I wasn't done, but just then, the door burst open.
Sahil stepped inside—and froze.
He looked from me to Sakshi, stunned, taking in the scene—me gripping her hair like a storm held by its center.
"Ishika… what the hell is going on?" he asked, confused. "Why did you call me here?"
"Oh Sahil," I said, releasing Sakshi's hair with a slight shove, then turning toward him with a bitter smile. "You really *are* too innocent sometimes."
I crossed the room and stood in front of him.
"I called you here for one reason—to introduce you to *this* extraordinary woman. Tell me, Sahil… do you know who she really is?"
He didn't answer, but his eyes were searching mine now—worried, trying to piece things together. Sakshi stood silent behind me, eyes lowered, saying nothing.
"This is Sakshi," I continued coldly. "She *was* a supermodel—until two years ago, when videos and reports of her misconduct surfaced. I was the journalist who covered that story. I did my job. I exposed the truth. She begged me not to publish, but I chose integrity. And her career? It fell apart."
I paused, meeting his gaze. "I could've turned a blind eye… just once. But she didn't deserve protection. What she did involved *children*, Sahil. Innocent lives. Forgiveness doesn't come easy after that."
I turned slowly toward Sakshi again.
"I thought she'd moved on—new business, new life. But no. She's been watching me. Burning in her need for revenge."
My voice darkened as I stepped closer to both of them. "She bribed your assistant. Had her lace your dinner with medication. Got a copy of your house key. And the girl she sent that night? Works in her own company."
I stopped and stared at Sakshi with blazing fury in my eyes.
"She *knew* I was flying in from Italy that night."
Then I turned to Sahil again, holding his gaze—hard, unwavering.
"I thought maybe she'd changed. But the employee she used to drive a wedge between you and me? She's ready to testify. Tonight. On live television."
I let the silence hang for a moment.
"Congratulations, Sakshi," I said with a devil's grin. "You're about to be ruined. *Again.*"
With that, I reached for Sahil's hand, laced my fingers through his, and walked out of that office without looking back.
I knew what would follow.
Sahil would be furious. He'd want to lash out at her, maybe even worse. But I… I didn't want revenge through violence.
No.
Death would be mercy.
I wanted her to *suffer*.
To crumble piece by piece, knowing exactly *why*.
Because what she did wasn't just wrong—it was unforgivable.
---
Sahil P.O.V
She pulled me out of that office with a grip that was firm—possessive even—but my mind had already detached from my body.
The echo of her words was still ringing in my ears.
*Bribed your assistant… drugged your dinner… had a key to your house…*
I didn't speak. Couldn't.
Not because I doubted her.
Because I didn't want to believe I'd let someone that dangerous so close. That I'd been *played*—so effortlessly. And worse… that someone had used me as a pawn to hurt her.
We stepped outside into the crisp air, but I still couldn't breathe properly. My jaw was locked tight, hands clenched in fists by my sides. I could feel the blood pulsing in my ears.
Ishika finally stopped walking and turned to face me. I could feel her eyes on me, watching, waiting.
But I didn't meet her gaze right away.
Because I was afraid of what she'd see in mine.
"I'm sorry," she said, her voice quiet but steady.
I glanced at her, surprised. Not by the words—but by the ache behind them.
"I should've told you sooner," she went on, "but I needed proof. I needed you to *see* her for who she really is."
I still didn't speak. My heart was too full. Of betrayal. Regret. Fury.
But then she took a step closer, and this time her voice faltered, just a little.
"And Sahil…" she paused, swallowing, "I owe you something more."
Now I looked up.
She wasn't just hurt. She looked guilty.
"I should've trusted you," she whispered. "When things didn't make sense between us… when you seemed distant, confused—I should've believed in you, not the silence."
She bit her lip, eyes glistening—not with weakness, but with emotion finally allowed to breathe.
"I let my own anger cloud the one person who's *never* let me fall. And I'm so, so sorry."
The apology didn't come easy. Not from someone like Ishika. She was built of fire and will and edges too sharp to bend.
But now… she was soft in the places that mattered.
And somehow, that hurt more than anything else.
"Ishika…" I said, my voice low, rough. "You shouldn't be the one apologizing. Not when you were the one fighting in the dark, while I—"
"No," she said firmly, cutting me off, a sad smile on her lips. "Pain doesn't need to be a contest. I didn't trust you when it mattered. And that's on *me.*"
A long silence stretched between us. Not heavy. Not awkward. Just honest.
I reached for her hand.
"I forgive you," I said. "But more than that… I'm proud of you."
Her eyes widened slightly.
"For seeing what I didn't," I added. "For protecting us, even when I wasn't sure what was happening. You saved both of us."
"I wasn't sure you'd see it that way," she whispered.
"I see *you,* Ishika," I said. "Always have."
Her eyes filled, but no tears fell. She nodded once—grateful, raw, relieved.
"I'm not going to let her get away with this," I said.
"I already told the news channel," she replied. "They're ready to run the segment tonight."
I nodded.
But my mind had already shifted—visualizing Sakshi's smug face turning pale under the spotlight she never expected to burn her.
"She wanted to destroy your life," I said quietly. "I think it's only fair… we return the favor."
Ishika gave a small smile—cold, sharp, and oddly proud.
"I already started."
And this time, when I looked at her, I didn't just see the woman I loved.
I saw a force no one should ever dare cross.
---
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Thank you...