It had been weeks since Vashti Dhiman let herself look back.
No more lingering in doorways.
No more waiting for footsteps behind her.
No more hoping that Shabd Heer would finally call her by her name like it meant something again.
Because now, Armaan was here.
He made her laugh without confusion.
He listened without needing to be chased.
He showed up. Every time.
It wasn't fireworks and flames.
It was slow warmth. Like healing.
She wasn't in love yet—but she was finally at peace.
That night, Armaan took her to the hospital terrace. City lights blinked below them like stars that never slept. The air was cool, and the silence wasn't uncomfortable.
He held her hand.
"I know I'm not the one you've been in love with," he said softly.
Her chest tightened.
"But I also know he never deserved all of it. Not like I could."
Vashti looked at him—really looked.
He was kind. Gentle. Steady.
The type of man who could make a storm feel like a breeze.
And for once, she didn't feel like setting the world on fire just to feel something.
She leaned in slightly, closing the space between them.
But the moment was shattered by a voice.
"Vashti."
She froze.
Turned.
Shabd was standing there.
Hair wind-tousled. Chest rising faster than usual.
Like he had run all the way up.
His eyes met hers—and for the first time, they weren't calm.
They were stormy. Restless. Wanting.
"I need to talk to you," he said, ignoring Armaan completely.
Vashti blinked, pulse stuttering.
"Now?"
"Yes."
She hesitated. "It's not a good time."
"It's already too late," Shabd said, voice lower. "I know."
Armaan looked between them, then gently let go of her hand.
"I'll wait downstairs," he said, and left without another word.
Now it was just them.
Her. And the boy who once ran from every ounce of love she offered him.
She crossed her arms. "Say what you came to say, Shabd."
He took a breath, then walked up to her—closer than he had in years.
"I was scared," he admitted. "Of what it meant. Of you. You were loud, intense, and you didn't know how to stop feeling."
She raised a brow. "And now?"
"Now I'm scared of a world where you don't feel anything for me at all."
Silence.
Tense. Heavy.
Then Vashti looked him in the eye and said—
"You should be."
Because this time…
He wasn't the only one who walked away hurting.
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