Chapter 6
At 3 PM when finally the school ends, i gather my things up and re-check my bag. My mind was wondering back to him, Lorenzo.
I don't know what was he doing? Will he be okay? I shake my head and walk towards the
Door but I pause when I saw Kartik leaning against the door his eyes lock with mine.
I swallow hard, my mind making up lies again. He push back from the door and walk towards me.
"Ruhi... Please talk to me...if I had done anything wrong please tell me " he plead , he's voice filled with concern and worry. Gosh I feel so guilty.
"Kartik, you didn't do anything to upset me it's just you already know my answer, don't you? I told you last year " i replied, guilt filed in my voice.
Kartik sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah… yeah, you did.”
The hallway was quiet now. Most of the students had left, the air thick with the scent of chalk and the faint echo of classroom doors shutting. His eyes stayed fixed on me, like he was still searching for something some sign that maybe I didn’t mean it.
“But people change, Ruhi,” he said after a pause. “Feelings change. I thought maybe yours…”
I shook my head slowly, gently cutting him off.
“They didn’t.”
It hurt to say it. Not because I didn’t mean it, but because Kartik didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve to be the second choice in a story he never asked to be a part of.
He nodded, his jaw clenched slightly as he looked away.
“I just miss the way you used to talk to me,” he whispered. “Like I mattered.”
My heart squeezed.
“You do matter, Kartik. Just… not in the way you want.”
A silence hung between us awkward, heavy, filled with words neither of us could say aloud.
Then, he nodded again. More to himself than to me.
“Okay,” he said, backing up a little. “I’ll stop pushing. I just… I just want you to be happy, Ruhi. Even if it’s not with me.”
The guilt curled tighter in my stomach.
I forced a small smile, not trusting my voice anymore. “Thank you,” I managed.
He gave me one last look soft, almost bittersweet and walked away.
I stood there for a second longer, letting the silence settle around me.
Then I turned, clutching my bag, and walked out of the building.
The moment I stepped outside, the cool breeze hit my face, and I inhaled deeply.
I didn’t know how to explain what I was feeling.
The lie I had told the hospital staff still haunted me.
The truth I was hiding from everyone else weighed even heavier.
Because back home… There was a man lying low, nameless, memoryless… And I was the only one who knew he existed.
And somehow… He felt like the only person who truly saw me.
The auto dropped me a few steps away from the building, and as I climbed the stairs to my apartment, my heart picked up its pace. I didn’t know why… maybe because every step I took brought me closer to the lie I was living.
To him.
I unlocked the door quietly, expecting silence.
But the moment I stepped in,
Clatter.
A curse echoed from the kitchen.
My brows furrowed.
I dropped my bag and followed the sound, peeking around the corner… only to freeze at the sight.
There he was Lorenzo.
Standing shirtless, in my too-short apron, looking very out of place yet weirdly at home. His hair was still damp from a shower, the steam from the boiling pot fogging the glass windows behind him.
He looked up as he heard me.
And then he grinned.
“Ah, my wife returns,” he said in a mockingly dramatic tone, stirring something in a pan like he knew what he was doing.
I blinked.
“What are you…?” I stepped closer, staring at the chaotic mess of ingredients all over the counter. “Are you… cooking?”
He shrugged, turning off the stove like a pro. “Well, I was hungry. You weren’t here. I thought I’d surprise you.”
“You nearly gave me a heart attack,” I muttered, walking over and grabbing a towel to wipe his hand. “And why are you shirtless again?”
He smirked. “It’s hot. Or maybe I thought you’d enjoy the view.”
I rolled my eyes, but a smile tugged at my lips despite myself.
He leaned casually against the counter, watching me.
“I’m trying to remember… something, anything,” he said quietly. “But it’s all just black. Except you.”
I paused, heart skipping.
“You’re the only real thing I know right now, Ruhi.”
His words landed heavy between us.
“I didn’t want you to come home and feel like a stranger. So I made food.” He gestured to the disaster behind him. “Even though I might’ve slightly burnt something.”
I glanced at the pan.
“Slightly?”
He chuckled.
“Okay, maybe… a lot.”
I let out a breathy laugh, shaking my head. “Let me fix this.”
But as I turned toward the stove, his hand caught mine.
“I’m serious,” he whispered.
I looked up, our eyes locking.
There it was again… that pull. That strange feeling I couldn’t name.
“I know I should feel… scared or lost,” he continued, “but when you’re around, I don’t.”
Something in my chest clenched.
“I’m glad you came back.”
And I couldn’t say it. I couldn’t tell him that he wasn’t really mine. That we weren’t really us.
So instead, I squeezed his hand.
“I’m glad too.”
We sat down at the dining table well, after I fixed the barely-salvageable food into something edible. I didn’t have the heart to throw it away. He looked so proud.
I served us both and sat across from him, feeling oddly nervous under his gaze.
He watched me closely as I took the first bite.
“Well?” he asked, eyebrows raised like a child waiting for praise.
I nodded slowly, chewing. “It’s… not bad.”
His lips curled into a grin. “Not bad? I was aiming for delicious wife’s favourite lunch, but I guess I’ll take ‘not bad’.”
I nearly choked.
He chuckled, picking up his fork and finally digging in. “I have to say, this domestic life isn’t as boring as I imagined. I cook, you scold me, we eat together. Very honeymoon-core.”
I glanced up sharply. “Honeymoon?”
He winked. “Don’t tell me I forgot that part too.”
I looked down at my plate, trying not to let my blush show. “You’re impossible.”
“Yet somehow, still yours.” He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “Tell me, did I flirt this much before too?”
How can I know that?
“You flirt more now,” I mumbled under my breath.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.” I coughed, avoiding his gaze.
He took another bite, eyes twinkling. “You know, I keep wondering what kind of man I was… before. But whatever version I was, I must’ve been completely obsessed with you.”
I froze for a second.
“I mean, look at you,” he continued, eyes trailing over my face. “You’re calm, kind, and you look at me like I’m a ticking bomb, but still choose to stay.”
I forced a smile, even though my heart felt like it was twisting inside my chest.
“You probably had no idea how madly in love I was with you,” he added, softer this time. “Maybe I didn’t even say it much. But I can tell now.”
I blinked rapidly.
“Lorenzo—”
“I’m trying to be honest,” he cut in gently, his gaze serious now. “I don’t have memories… but I have this feeling that I’d do anything to protect you. That I’d kill for you.”
I swallowed.
He smiled faintly, finishing his food and leaning back. “Also, not to be dramatic or anything, but I’m definitely making dinner tonight. You’ll fall in love with me all over again.”
I snorted, grateful for the sudden shift in mood.
“Bold of you to assume I’m not already,” I teased, instantly regretting it.
His eyes widened slightly. Then a slow, dangerous grin spread on his lips.
“Oh?” he said, voice low. “Then maybe I should skip dinner and just take you straight to dessert.”
I stood up abruptly, grabbing our plates.
“Lunch is over. Dishes time.”
He laughed behind me.
“Admit it, wife, you like me.”
I didn’t reply.
Because maybe I did.
Maybe that was the problem.