Chapter 34
THIRTY-FOUR
Greesha
“You’ll see Aarohi tomorrow, man. She’ll be the one in... red? I don’t know what her bridal gown is like.”
I freeze mid-step.
That name—her name—lands like a boulder in the pit of my stomach. My breath catches. My heartbeat stutters.
I’m standing at the back entrance of the hall, hidden by the darkness beyond the corridor, right before I can head to the secluded room they gave me. I was just passing through. Trying to be invisible, like I’ve always known how to be.
But that voice. His voice.
Advik.
I don’t move.
Not when I hear him laughing. Not when I hear her name again—Aarohi. The bride-to-be. The woman who, once upon a time, slept with the man I—
My pulse pounds.
How the hell are they even able to talk to each other like this? Him and the fucking groom. I want to scoff, maybe even laugh at the absurdity, but nothing in my body moves.
Advik was invited to her wedding.
Best case scenario—the hatchet between him and this Lucian guy must be six feet under.
But it’s what the groom says next that stings unexpectedly.
“Barely friends? That’s a hell of a rewrite. I wasn’t thrilled about you being invited to our wedding, but I didn’t expect you to say that.”
I frown. Barely friends?
Is that how he rewrote his connection with Aarohi?
I inch closer to the shadows, hiding deeper in the corridor as their conversation continues.
Something about this whole thing feels dangerous—not physically, but emotionally.
Like it’s going to unravel me if I keep listening.
I’m hoping the emotional floodgates that have been opened won’t feel the need to shut down again. But I can’t stop.
Then I hear it.
“How... how did you fuck up with Aarohi? And more importantly... how did you fix it?”
My frown deepens. Why is Advik asking for relationship advice?
From him? But then I listen further.
Lucian made mistakes too apparently. Maybe he fucked things up before their engagement. That part doesn’t surprise me. What does surprise me is the vulnerability in Advik’s tone.
But the more I listen... the more my stomach sinks. And then Advik starts to tell him about his relationship with me—and how Aarohi was the downfall.
I break out into a cold sweat. My legs wobble. I brace a hand on the wall, barely keeping upright. The way he says my name—like a heartbreak caught in his throat.
I’ve barely ever heard him talk about me in that manner. Save for the time I had my PI record a sliver of his conversation with his brother last year. Where I’d scoffed at his confession.
Then I hear Lucian quietly admit.
“She was... suicidal for a while, yes. God! I can’t imagine being in her shoes. The way people treated her. Making comments about her body.”
Fuck. Aarohi was suicidal? I can understand why someone would feel that way. But I’d always thought that Advik was exaggerating about her state when he said his protectiveness hinged on saving her.
My stomach twists.
Maybe I never allowed myself to understand why Advik was the way he was with her. Why he threw himself between her and the world like a human shield.
Because he thought she was breaking. Thinking about dying.
Now though—having her husband, her fiancé—confirm it, is somewhat of a blow.
I blink rapidly. Wondering if I’d even been listening when Advik told me about how he and Rohi came about last year. What his actual feelings were.
I dismiss the idea quickly though. I had been listening. I just hadn’t been in a place to believe.
Advik’s broken voice reaches me again.
“Well, I blame myself for sleeping with her while I was grieving the woman I love who was... gone.”
I was dead, Advik. Dead—not gone.
But I think he isn’t willing to admit everything to that extent. Perhaps, this Lucian isn’t the best person to confide in.
Then something slams into me like a punch to the chest.
I never gave myself the liberty to think about this. He’d been thinking I was dead when he slept with her.
But hearing that he was grieving—truly grieving? Hearing that he was lost when he touched someone else? It gives me a reluctant sense of... understanding.
Possibly. Given that right after he slept with her, he went to his brother and admitted his brutal truth. That apparently he was in love with me.
And just as quickly, I realize. I wasn’t hurt that he slept with Rohi. I was hurt because he slept with Rohi.
But the way they’re speaking about the night that broke me—is alarming. They’re... okay with it. Comfortable even. Knowing that they’ve shared the same woman.
I cringe slightly at my thought process.
“Jesus Christ. I always wondered why you didn’t fight for Rohi, given your history. Now I think I get it.”
He didn’t?
“Yeah. Because I never would’ve fought for her in the first place. You had nothing to worry about.”
Advik says it so casually. Like it’s an afterthought. Like it’s not something that tears his heart out. Just a conclusion he’d reached eventually.
I stare at my hands. Willing them to stop shaking. Hoping—praying—that I don’t let my heart sway too much with the words I’ve overheard. But it’s too late, I reckon.
“She’s the only one I’d fight for. But I might’ve already lost her. For good.”
That breaks me. I can hear it. Because this is what actually tears his heart out. Not his earlier admission about Rohi.
Not his guilt. Not his explanations. But the finality in his voice.
He thinks I’m gone.
And unfortunately he’s right.
“For what it’s worth... I hope you get her back,” Lucian says.
Fuck. Hope.
My eyes squeeze shut. I stumble back into the hallway, heart pounding violently against my ribcage. And then I bolt.
I barely make it to the basement room before my knees give out, dropping me to the tiny mattress in the corner.
The silence is oppressive. Then comes the first tear. Slow. Heavy. Almost unfamiliar.
Then the second. And then I let them fall freely.
For him.
For me.
I curl into myself and whisper words no one will hear.
I hoped you’d get that girl back too, Advik. But she’s gone.
And what’s left in her place... is a woman who doesn’t know how to give anymore.
To her, hope is poison. Trust is a commodity. And love?
Love is a luxury.