The next morning felt strangely calm.
Almost too calm after everything that had happened the previous night.
The mountains looked softer beneath the pale morning sunlight, mist floating lazily between the trees while the campsite slowly woke around them.
For the first time in days—
Aakrati's mind was quiet.
Not confused.
Not running in circles.
Just… still.
And honestly?
That itself felt unfamiliar.
She stood near the breakfast table holding a cup of tea while Siddharth continued being completely unbearable beside Shrisha.
"Good morning, girlfriend," he said dramatically for the tenth time.
Shrisha glared at him. "If you say that one more time, I'm breaking up already."
"You can't. We have emotional investment now."
Krish laughed softly beside Aakrati while taking coffee.
"You're enjoying this way too much," Shrisha complained.
"Absolutely," Krish admitted calmly.
Aakrati smiled faintly watching them.
Siddharth looked annoyingly happy.
Shrisha looked embarrassed every three minutes.
And somehow—
after all the emotional chaos—
their lightness felt comforting.
Then Siddharth leaned toward Shrisha again.
"You know," he whispered loudly enough for everyone to hear, "your boyfriend climbed an entire mountain for love."
"You almost died climbing half of it."
"Sacrifices were made."
Arsh silently drank coffee across the table.
Quiet.
Too quiet.
He hadn't spoken much since morning.
Hadn't looked at Aakrati properly either.
But she noticed the exhaustion beneath his calm expression.
Last night had affected him too.
Of course it had.
For a brief second, guilt tried rising inside her again.
But this time—
she stopped herself.
No overthinking.
No emotional spirals.
No standing between two choices anymore.
She had chosen.
And now she would stand by it.
Aakrati slowly looked toward Krish beside her.
He looked relaxed again this morning.
Not hurt.
Not distant.
Just quietly happy in that calm Krish way.
And something inside her softened immediately.
Because despite everything—
he stayed.
Not because she forced him.
Because he loved her enough to believe her choice.
Krish glanced sideways at her suddenly. "What?"
Aakrati blinked. "Hm?"
"You've been staring at me for thirty seconds."
Siddharth instantly gasped dramatically. "ROMANCE."
"Please shut up," Shrisha muttered.
Krish smiled slightly while Aakrati rolled her eyes.
But secretly—
she liked how natural this felt.
Easy.
Safe.
For so long she had mistaken emotional chaos for clarity.
Arsh made her feel intensely.
But intensity wasn't always stability.
And maybe love wasn't supposed to constantly confuse you.
Maybe sometimes—
love was simply the person who stayed patient while you figured yourself out.
The person who still held your hand after you hurt them.
The person who looked at you this morning like nothing mattered more than the fact that you were still there beside him.
Aakrati exhaled softly.
Yes.
This was right.
The breakfast ended with Siddharth forcing everyone into group pictures while Shrisha threatened violence every five minutes.
Soon after, they finally packed up to leave.
Siddharth obviously left with Shrisha.
"Couple car," he announced proudly.
"I regret saying yes already," Shrisha replied.
Krish opened the passenger door for Aakrati quietly.
And for the first time—
she entered without hesitation.
Across the parking area, Arsh stood beside his own car.
Their eyes met briefly.
There was pain there.
Unspoken things.
But Aakrati didn't look away guiltily this time.
She simply gave him a small, honest nod.
A silent acknowledgment.
Then she got into Krish's car.
And as they drove down the mountain roads beneath the bright morning sky—
Aakrati realized something important.
For once in her life—
her heart had finally stopped running in two different directions.
For the first time since meeting Aakrati—
Arsh stayed away.
Completely.
No messages.
No random appearances.
No excuses to see her.
Nothing.
And somehow—
that silence hurt worse than fighting.
His house had become unbearably quiet that week. The curtains stayed closed most of the time, coffee cups gathered near the couch, and his phone remained ignored beside him for hours.
Arsh sat alone in the dim living room, jaw tight, thoughts completely consumed by her.
Aakrati.
Always Aakrati.
He shut his eyes briefly, leaning back against the couch.
He had seen it clearly on the mountain.
The way she looked at Krish afterward.
The certainty in her voice.
For the first time—
she had chosen someone without hesitation.
And despite how much it destroyed him—
Arsh respected that.
He really did.
Because loving someone also meant accepting their choice.
Even when it killed you.
But every time he tried convincing himself to stay away—
another thought followed immediately after.
If I do nothing… I'll lose her forever.
That thought refused to leave him alone.
Marriage wasn't some temporary relationship.
Once she married Krish—
everything would change permanently.
And Arsh couldn't accept that.
Not fully.
Not yet.
He clenched his jaw harder.
"Fuck…"
His phone buzzed again beside him.
Siddharth.
For the fourth time today.
Arsh stared at the screen before finally answering.
"What?"
"Wow," Siddharth sighed dramatically. "Good afternoon to you too."
"I'm hanging up."
"Okay wait wait."
Siddharth's tone softened slightly.
"You coming to work tomorrow?"
"No."
"Arsh."
"I said no."
A brief silence followed.
Then Siddharth spoke carefully.
"You can't lock yourself inside your house forever."
Arsh laughed quietly without humor. "Watch me."
"Dude…"
"I don't want to work right now," Arsh muttered tiredly, rubbing his forehead. "Just let me be alone for some time."
Siddharth exhaled softly on the other side.
Because beneath all the sarcasm and flirting—
he genuinely cared about him.
"You're taking this badly."
Arsh looked toward the dark window silently.
"She's getting married in six days."
The sentence sounded unreal even now.
Siddharth had no reply for a second.
Because honestly—
what could he even say?
Eventually he spoke quietly.
"You knew this could happen."
"I know."
"Then why does it feel like you still expected her to choose you?"
Arsh shut his eyes tightly.
Because maybe—
deep down—
he had.
No matter how complicated things became between them, some stubborn part of him kept believing she would eventually turn back toward him.
But she didn't.
And now he was left sitting alone with emotions he didn't know where to put.
Siddharth's voice interrupted his thoughts again.
"You should come out at least."
"No."
"Arsh—"
"I'm serious, Sid. Not now."
Then quietly—
almost to himself—
he added,
"If I see her right now, I'll do something stupid."
That sentence finally silenced Siddharth completely.
—
Meanwhile—
the complete opposite atmosphere existed on Aakrati and Shrisha's side.
The mall was chaos.
Shopping bags hung from both their arms while Shrisha continued giving unnecessary opinions about literally everything.
"No."
Aakrati blinked. "What?"
"That lehenga."
"What's wrong with it?"
"You're getting married, not attending a historical war."
Aakrati burst out laughing.
"You're impossible."
"And you have terrible taste under emotional pressure."
Shrisha pulled her toward another store dramatically.
Aakrati followed while laughing softly.
And honestly?
She looked lighter this week.
Not because everything was magically perfect.
But because her mind had finally stopped fighting itself.
For months she had emotionally exhausted herself trying to understand what she wanted.
Now—
she finally knew.
And that certainty changed her completely.
Shrisha suddenly looked sideways at her.
"You seem happy."
Aakrati smiled faintly.
"I think I am."
"Good."
Then immediately—
Shrisha narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
"But if you become one of those couples who say disgusting romantic things publicly, I'll leave."
Aakrati laughed again. "That's definitely Siddharth, not me."
"True. Unfortunately."
But secretly—
Shrisha herself looked happier too.
Because Siddharth had become impossibly attached after the trip.
And honestly?
She loved it.
—
Meanwhile, Krish's house looked completely different from Arsh's lonely silence.
Warm.
Busy.
Alive.
Relatives visiting constantly.
Phone calls nonstop.
Wedding discussions everywhere.
And right in the middle of all that chaos—
Krish looked genuinely happy.
Not loudly expressive like Siddharth.
But quietly content in a way everyone around him noticed immediately.
Especially whenever Aakrati called.
His mother smiled knowingly one evening while watching him talk softly on the phone.
"You're smiling at the wall again."
Krish looked up calmly. "It's called being in love."
His mother nearly dropped the tray dramatically. "Who taught you dialogues?"
Krish actually laughed.
And that itself shocked his family enough.
Because lately—
he looked lighter too.
Like the fear of losing her had finally disappeared.
That night, while talking to Aakrati on call, Krish suddenly asked softly,
"No confusion now?"
A small silence followed.
Then Aakrati answered honestly.
"No."
And somehow—
that single word healed something inside him completely.