Kashvi had never been afraid of Krish before.
And maybe that was what hurt the most.
Since the evening at the café, something inside her had shifted. She spoke less. Thought more. Every sudden sound made her alert, as if her body sensed danger before her mind did.
When Krish called her that night, her fingers trembled slightly around the phone.
"Where are you?"
His voice was sharp. Impatient.
"Leaving the office," Kashvi replied softly.
"Come straight home. We need to talk."
It wasn't a request.
It was a command.
The moment she stepped inside the apartment, the air felt heavy. Krish stood in the living room, arms crossed, his jaw tight. There was no anger in his eyes—only control. That scared her more.
"You met Ved again, didn't you?" he asked bluntly.
Kashvi froze.
"He's just a friend," she said carefully.
Krish laughed—but there was no humor in it.
"A friend?" He stepped closer. "You think I'm stupid?"
Her heart started pounding. She took a step back instinctively.
"You're misunderstanding—"
"No," he interrupted. "You're the one misunderstanding things."
His voice rose. Not shouting. Worse. Cold. Calculated.
"I've been patient, Kashvi. I stayed. I waited. I supported you when you were broken."
He paused, then added quietly, "Now it's my turn."
Her chest tightened.
"What do you mean?" she whispered.
"I mean we're getting married," Krish said firmly. "Soon."
Kashvi stared at him in disbelief.
"Krish… you never asked me."
"I don't need to ask," he replied. "You need stability. Protection. Someone who won't leave."
Her breath became uneven.
"I don't want this," she said, barely audible.
Krish's expression hardened.
"You don't know what you want," he said sharply. "You're weak because of your past. Because of Ved."
That name hit her like a wound reopening.
Memories rushed in—
Five years ago.
Ved's silence.
The way she had felt invisible.
Trapped.
Blamed.
Her knees felt weak.
"Don't talk about him," she said, tears filling her eyes.
Krish grabbed her wrist—not tightly, not violently—but firmly enough to remind her she couldn't leave.
"You're not running this time," he said. "I won't let you destroy yourself again."
Something inside Kashvi shattered.
She pulled her hand away with all the strength she had left and stepped back, her body shaking.
"This isn't care," she said, voice breaking. "This is fear."
Krish looked stunned—for just a second. Then his face turned cold.
"You'll understand," he said. "You always do."
He walked away, leaving her standing there alone.
Kashvi slid down to the floor, hugging her knees to her chest. Her breaths came in short, painful gasps. The walls felt too close. The room too loud. Her thoughts too heavy.
For the first time, the person she had trusted the most felt like a threat.
And for the first time in years—
she felt herself sinking.
Not into memories.
Not into tears.
But into depression.
Somewhere far away, Ved's calm voice echoed in her mind—
You don't have to pretend with me.
And Kashvi realized, with terrifying clarity—
She wasn't afraid of losing Krish.
She was afraid of losing herself.