The sun rose slowly over Chandrapur, casting pale golden light over the haveli’s weathered walls. But inside, the atmosphere was anything but warm. The tension that had been brewing for weeks had finally boiled over, leaving fractures too deep to ignore.
Ishita had barely slept. She sat in her room, her sketchbook open on her lap, though she hadn’t drawn a thing. Her heart and mind were at war—torn between the two men who had come to mean everything to her.
Rohan was steady, dependable. Beneath his guarded nature was a man who had shown her how much he cared—not just through words, but through his actions. The kiss they had shared still lingered on her lips, making her pulse quicken whenever she thought of him.
But then there was Aditya.
Aditya, with his warmth and his easy laughter. He had always been there—making her smile, chasing away her worries. And now, for the first time since they had met, there was a wall between them. A wall she wasn’t sure she could break through.
A soft knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. When she opened it, Rohan stood on the other side, his face unreadable.
“Hey,” he said quietly. “Can we talk?”
Ishita hesitated for a moment, but stepped aside, letting him in. He walked to the window, gazing out over the courtyard where the rain had finally stopped.
“I didn’t mean to push you yesterday,” he said after a long silence. “I know things between us… they’re complicated.”
Ishita leaned against the wall, arms folded tightly across her chest. “Rohan, you didn’t push me. What happened… it was real. But Aditya—” She broke off, the weight of his name making her throat tighten.
“I know,” Rohan said quietly, his expression darkening. “I hurt him.”
“We both did,” she admitted. “And he doesn’t deserve that.”
Rohan turned to face her, and for the first time, she saw something vulnerable beneath his calm exterior. “Do you regret it?”
The question pierced through her. She wanted to give him an easy answer—but there wasn’t one. “No,” she said softly. “I don’t regret it. But I can’t ignore how much this has cost us. The three of us.”
He stepped closer, his voice low and careful. “I’m not asking you to choose right now, Ishita. I just need to know if there’s a chance—if what we feel is worth holding on to.”
Her heart pounded in her chest as she met his gaze. “I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “I’m so scared of breaking everything we have.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then, with a sigh, Rohan nodded. “I’ll give you time. But I’m not walking away from this—not from us.”
And with that, he turned and left, leaving her alone with her tangled thoughts and an ache she couldn’t shake.
---
Aditya was in the old storeroom, sorting through a pile of broken artifacts when Rohan found him later that day. Dust hung heavy in the air, and the room smelled faintly of rain-soaked wood.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” Rohan said quietly, leaning against the doorway.
Aditya didn’t look up. “Didn’t realize I needed permission.”
The sharpness in his voice stung, but Rohan refused to back down. “You’re my best friend, Aditya. That hasn’t changed.”
Aditya laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “Funny. Feels like everything’s changed.”
Rohan’s jaw tightened as he stepped further into the room. “I never wanted to hurt you.”
“But you did.” Aditya finally looked up, and the hurt in his eyes cut deep. “You knew how I felt about her.”
Rohan let out a slow breath, the weight of his guilt settling heavy on his chest. “I didn’t plan this. I tried to fight it—I did. But… I love her, Aditya.”
The words hung in the air like an unspoken betrayal.
For a moment, neither of them moved. Then Aditya’s expression hardened. “And what if she doesn’t love you back?”
The question struck like a blow, but Rohan didn’t flinch. “Then I’ll accept that. But I’m not going to lie about how I feel. Not to her—and not to you.”
Aditya laughed again, but there was no humor in it. “You always win, don’t you, Rohan? The perfect life. The perfect career. And now, the girl.”
“This isn’t about winning,” Rohan said quietly. “It’s about her.”
“And what about me?” Aditya’s voice cracked. “Or does what I feel not matter?”
“It matters,” Rohan said softly. “You matter. And if I could change this—if I could stop loving her—I would. But I can’t.”
The raw honesty in his words stole the fight from Aditya’s chest. He turned away, his hands trembling as he gripped the edge of the table. “I don’t know how to forgive you for this.”
Rohan’s heart ached at the truth between them. “I’m not asking for your forgiveness,” he said, his voice thick. “I’m asking you not to walk away. Not from me. Not from her.”
For a long moment, Aditya said nothing. And when he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. “I need time.”
Rohan nodded, swallowing the ache rising in his throat. “Take all the time you need.”
And with that, he left, knowing that no matter how much he wanted to fix things, some wounds couldn’t be healed overnight.
---
Later that evening, Ishita found Aditya sitting by the old fountain, lost in thought. The air was cool, heavy with the scent of rain-soaked earth.
“You’re not really a ‘quiet contemplation’ kind of guy,” she said softly, taking a seat beside him.
Aditya didn’t smile. “Maybe I’m changing.”
Her heart twisted at the sadness in his voice. “I hate this,” she whispered. “I hate what we’ve become.”
For a moment, he was silent. Then, without looking at her, he said, “Did you ever think… maybe it could’ve been us?”
Tears burned behind her eyes. “I thought about it,” she admitted. “More than once.”
His breath hitched. “Then why…?”
Ishita reached for his hand, but he pulled away. “Because it was never simple, Aditya. And because part of me was always waiting for you to say it first.”
His laughter was soft and bitter. “I was too late.”
“You weren’t,” she said quickly. “But… I’m so confused. And I can’t hurt you both.”
For the first time, Aditya looked at her—really looked at her. “Maybe you already have.”
His words shattered something inside her. And as he stood and walked away, Ishita realized the truth she had been avoiding all along:
No matter what she chose—no matter who she chose—someone’s heart would break.
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