Flashback
(The day Armaan was leaving for abroad, before Laksh arrived...)
The news of Armaan leaving had broken something inside Aarohi. She sat on the old wooden bench in the garden, her head buried in her hands, tears quietly rolling down her cheeks. The scent of damp earth hung in the air after the morning watering, but she didn't care. Her world felt heavy, and everything else had blurred into the background.
Armaan spotted her from a distance and walked over slowly. Without a word, he sat beside her, close enough to offer comfort, but not crowd her space. His presence was soft—reassuring, like a warm breeze on a cold day.
"What happened?" he asked gently, leaning a little closer. "Why is my Aarohi crying like this?"
She looked up, her eyes red and puffy. Her voice cracked as she spoke, "You're leaving, Armaan… and I can't take it. Please... don't go."
Armaan's expression softened as he reached out, wiping the tears from her cheeks with his thumb. Then, without letting go of her hand, he replied in a quiet voice, "Aarohi… don't cry like that. You know I don't want to go either. But I have to. Papa's all alone in New York. He needs me."
Aarohi looked down at her lap, her fingers fiddling with the edge of her dupatta. Her voice dropped to a whisper, "But what about me? I'll be alone here too…"
Armaan gently tightened his grip on her hand, his voice calm and steady. "Aarohi… how can you say you'll be alone? Your whole family's here—your mom, dad, Aradhya di… everyone who loves you is around."
He paused for a second, searching her eyes. "But if I don't go, Papa will be completely alone out there. He doesn't have anyone in New York. I can't leave him like that."
Aarohi looked away, blinking hard as more tears slipped down her cheeks. Her voice cracked, barely above a whisper.
"But if you go... who will I play with? Who's going to protect me from Laksh? Who's gonna be there to keep me safe?"
That made Armaan chuckle softly, but there was still so much affection in his eyes.
"Protect you from Laksh?" he said, shaking his head with a gentle smile. "You don't need anyone to protect you, Aarohi. You're tougher than you think. You always were."
He scooted a little closer, his tone turning serious now. "Promise me something, okay? When I'm gone… you'll look after yourself. You'll be so strong, no one—even Laksh—will dare mess with you. Not even in his dreams."
Aarohi slowly looked up at him, eyes wide and watery. For a second, she didn't say anything. Then she gave the tiniest nod, a soft spark of determination flickering in her gaze.
"I will," she whispered.
Armaan smiled, his heart swelling with affection. He placed his hand gently on her head, running his fingers softly through her hair in a gesture full of warmth and comfort.
"That's my good girl," he said lovingly.
He paused for a moment, then added with a teasing glint in his eyes, "And as for Laksh… he's not that bad, you know. Who knows—maybe once I'm gone, you two might even end up being friends."
Aarohi didn't even crack a smile.
No matter how gently Armaan tried to cheer her up, the sadness in her eyes didn't fade. He knew her too well. She hadn't said everything yet—something was still weighing on her. Gently, he reached out and tilted her face toward him.
"Hey," he said softly, "what's really going on? You still look upset."
Aarohi dropped her gaze, her fingers nervously fidgeting in her lap. Her voice came out quiet, almost like a whisper.
"You promised… you promised you'd make me a bracelet out of flowers. But now you're leaving."
Armaan blinked, then let out a soft laugh. "Seriously? That's what's got you all worked up?"
He gently nudged her chin, urging her to look at him again. "Come on, look at me."
She met his eyes reluctantly.
"I swear," he said with a warm smile, "when I come back from abroad, I won't just make you some silly bracelet out of flowers. I'll bring you a real one—a proper bracelet, with charms and everything. And yes, I'll make sure it has butterflies too. Not just petals."
Aarohi blinked in surprise, her lips slowly curling into a smile—the kind that reached her eyes.
"Really?" she asked, hope flickering in her voice.
"Really," Armaan said with a nod, his tone sincere. "Promise."
For a moment, the heaviness lifted. The sadness faded from her face, replaced by a shy, quiet happiness. Just the thought of Armaan returning someday—with a bracelet full of butterflies and love—was enough to make her believe that maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.
Back to Present....
Armaan gently let go of her wrist, his eyes soft as they met hers.
"What happened?" he asked, tilting his head slightly. "You don't like it?"
Aarohi quickly shook her head. The silver bracelet shimmered in the sunlight as she moved.
"No, no… I love it," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's exactly how you described it."
Armaan gave her a small smile. "Then what is it?"
Aarohi looked down, unable to meet his eyes. Her fingers fidgeted in her lap, nervously twisting together.
"I just… I didn't think you'd actually remember," she said quietly.
For a moment, neither of them said a word. The silence wasn't awkward—it was thick with everything they'd left unsaid over the years.
Then, Armaan took a quiet step closer, bridging the space that time had built between them. He gently took her hand in both of his, his touch warm, grounding.
"Aarohi," he said softly, his voice carrying a quiet sincerity, "maybe one day I'll forget a lot of things… maybe even myself. But not a promise I made to you. I could never forget that."
She looked up, her eyes wide, as his gaze stayed steady on hers.
"You've always been important to me. You still are," he continued, his thumb brushing lightly over her fingers. "Even if we didn't talk for eight years, it didn't change what you mean to me."
Aarohi's breath hitched slightly.
"You're still that same girl who used to run to me with every tiny problem… who'd tell me the most random, silly things about her day." His lips curved into a soft smile. "Nothing's changed. So please… stop talking to me like I'm a stranger. I'm still your Armaan."
That was it. Something inside her cracked open, something she'd kept tightly locked away.
Without another word, Aarohi stepped forward and threw her arms around him, holding on like she'd never let go. Like she couldn't afford to.
Caught off guard for a moment, Armaan froze—then quietly, gently, he wrapped his arms around her too. He pulled her close, resting his chin against the top of her head, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back.
For a while, neither of them moved.
In that one embrace, after all those years, it felt like everything fell back into place—like their hearts had never stopped waiting for this moment.
But someone else had seen it all.