•| FORTY FOUR |•
“Aren’t you coming to uni?! Samira, it’s important to attend today’s class!” Riya practically shouted through the phone, her dramatic tone echoing in your ear and making you pull the device slightly away. You closed your eyes and sighed, leaning back against the headboard.
“Riya… not today,” you murmured tiredly, your voice still heavy from everything that had happened.
“I’m not in the mood.” On the other end, Riya huffed exaggeratedly.
“Mood? Since when do we attend classes based on mood? Madam, attendance is already low and today the professor said he’s discussing the internal project details.
If you skip, don’t cry later!” You rubbed your forehead.
She was right, and that only made it more annoying.
After a few seconds of silence, you gave in.
“Fine… I’ll come,” you mumbled reluctantly.
Instantly, her tone changed. “Good! That’s like my babe!
” she squealed happily. “And yeah, listen…” her voice dropped into a suspiciously softer tone, “we’ll go shopping after classes are over and umm…
Pratik is coming with us.” You couldn’t help but chuckle, the first genuine sound of amusement leaving your lips since yesterday.
“Ohhh, someone sounds shy,” you teased lightly.
“You’re blushing, aren’t you?” “Shut up!” she whispered loudly.
“I’m not blushing! It’s just… he said he needed help buying something and I said I was going anyway so…
” “So you’re going together,” you completed her sentence with a grin. But your smile slowly faded.
“I won’t be able to come shopping though. Mom and Dad aren’t home today, and I have to take care of the house.” Riya groaned dramatically.
“Okaaaay, responsible daughter,” she muttered.
“Fine. But at least come to class. I’ll pick you up in twenty minutes.
” “Hmm,” you responded softly. “See you soon.” “And Samira?” she added gently before hanging up.
“Try to smile a little today.” Your throat tightened, but you forced a light tone. “I’ll try.”
After cutting the call, you let the phone slip from your hand onto the bed and stared at the ceiling for a long moment.
University. Normal life. Acting like everything was fine.
The thought felt exhausting. But maybe distraction was what you needed.
Slowly, you pushed yourself up and walked toward the washroom, your steps dragging slightly.
As you closed the door behind you and turned on the shower, the sound of rushing water filled the small space, drowning out the chaos in your head—if only for a few minutes.
After taking a quick shower, you stepped out of the washroom, steam still clinging to your skin as you wiped your wet hair with a towel. Droplets of water trailed down your neck and disappeared beneath the loose fabric of your nightwear.
You were about to sit down at your dressing table when your phone suddenly buzzed against the wooden surface, the vibration breaking the fragile calm you had managed to gather.
You paused for a second, staring at it without moving.
It buzzed again. With a quiet sigh, you walked toward the table and picked it up.
The moment your eyes landed on the caller ID, your fingers froze.
Krish calling… Your heartbeat quickened instantly.
Why is he calling? you thought, your brows knitting together.
Didn’t I make it clear that I needed time?
Didn’t I say I can’t talk right now? The phone continued ringing, his name flashing over and over as if demanding your attention.
For a split second, your thumb hovered over the green button.
You wanted to hear his voice. You wanted him to explain again.
But then the memories of yesterday rushed back—the confusion, the hurt, the disbelief in your chest. Your jaw tightened.
“No,” you whispered to yourself. “I need space.” Without answering, you placed the phone face down on the table, letting it ring until it stopped on its own.
You didn’t trust your voice not to tremble if you heard him.
Turning away quickly, you walked toward your wardrobe and began pulling out clothes, trying to distract yourself, pretending the silence didn’t sting just as much as the ringing did.
---
Meanwhile, miles away in his room, Krish stared at his phone as the call disconnected.
He let out a long, shaky breath when he saw Call declined.
His grip on the phone tightened unconsciously.
“She rejected it…” he muttered to himself, his chest feeling uncomfortably tight.
He ran a hand through his hair and tried again, but this time it went unanswered completely.
His heart was pounding strangely, an uneasy feeling settling deep inside him.
It wasn’t just disappointment—it was fear.
Fear that the distance between you was stretching further with every missed call.
“Just pick up once,” he whispered under his breath, staring at your contact picture.
His instincts felt restless, like something wasn’t right.
He couldn’t explain it, but there was a heaviness in his chest he couldn’t shake off, as if the silence on your end was louder than any argument you both had.
---
You were sitting quietly on the slightly rusted bench near the bus stand, your bag resting beside you, a book open in your hands as you pretended to immerse yourself in its pages.
The morning breeze gently played with the loose strands of your hair, and vehicles passed by in a constant blur of noise and motion, yet your mind was far from calm.
You kept rereading the same paragraph without actually processing a single word.
What you didn’t notice was the pair of eyes watching you from across the street—someone leaning casually against a pole, pretending to scroll on his phone while his gaze remained fixed on you.
Every movement you made, every time you tucked your hair behind your ear or shifted slightly on the bench, didn’t go unnoticed.
Not long after, the bus finally arrived with a screeching halt, its doors opening with a mechanical hiss.
You closed your book, stood up, and stepped inside without sparing a glance around.
As you found a seat near the window, you plugged in your headphones, letting soft music fill your ears while your eyes remained fixed on the passing scenery outside.
The city blurred by, unaware that danger quietly trailed behind in another vehicle.
---
At the same time, back at the mansion, Krish was adjusting his watch while standing in front of the mirror, trying to mentally prepare himself for the long day at the office.
He looked tired, the faint dark circles under his eyes betraying his sleepless night.
Just as he was about to pick up his blazer, his bedroom door clicked open slowly.
He turned around to see Kiaan standing there with a tiny pout on his face, his small hands clutching the edge of the door.
Krish’s expression instantly softened. They hadn’t properly spoken in two days, and that silence had hurt more than he could admit.
“Dad…” Kiaan said hesitantly. Krish’s smile widened immediately.
“Yes, baby?” he replied gently, crouching down to his level.
Kiaan shuffled his feet before speaking again.
“Mummy said she’s not angry with you… she’s just a little sad.
” Krish’s heart skipped a beat at those words.
“She did?” he asked softly. Kiaan nodded seriously.
“She told me to talk with you like a good boy. I’m sorry, Dad.
” His tiny voice trembled slightly. Without wasting another second, Krish pulled him into a tight hug, lifting him slightly off the ground and covering his cheeks with kisses.
“No, baby, you don’t have to say sorry,” he murmured emotionally. “Dad loves you so much.” Kiaan giggled between the kisses, wrapping his arms around Krish’s neck. For the first time since you left, Krish felt a small piece of hope return to his chest.
---
Soon, your bus stopped near the university gate.
You stepped down, adjusting your bag on your shoulder before walking inside the campus.
Students were scattered around in groups, laughing and chatting, their lives moving forward as usual.
Near the entrance, you spotted Riya and Pratik waiting for you.
Riya waved enthusiastically the moment she saw you.
As you approached them, she rushed forward and engulfed you in a tight hug.
“Samira! I missed you so much!” she exclaimed dramatically.
You slowly wrapped your arms around her in return, patting her back gently, though your smile was faint and slightly forced.
“I was gone for one day, Riya,” you said softly.
“Still!” she insisted, pulling back to examine your face.
“You look tired.” You quickly brushed it off and then turned toward Pratik, who had been watching the interaction quietly.
You offered him an awkward, small smile.
“H-hi,” you said hesitantly. Pratik smiled warmly in return.
“Hey, Samira. Good to see you.” There was a brief pause, a subtle tension in the air that only you seemed to feel. You adjusted the strap of your bag and glanced around, unaware that somewhere within the campus, the same pair of watchful eyes had followed you all the way there.