I S H A

I stared blankly at the ground, tears cascading down my face in an endless stream. I was too drained, too defeated, to even lift a hand to wipe them away. My body felt lifeless, every limb heavy and unresponsive, as if I were no longer in control. A numbing weakness consumed me, my form trembling like jelly, while my mind struggled to process the weight of his words.

"Main tumhare liye waapis nahi aaya, Isha."

His words echoed endlessly in my mind, each repetition cutting deeper than the last. I took a shaky breath, forcing myself to gather the remnants of courage buried somewhere within me. With trembling hands, I wiped away my tears harshly, as if erasing the evidence of my pain.

Without sparing him a glance, I rose from the bench, my gaze fixed firmly on the ground. My legs felt heavy, each step forward a struggle, but I willed myself to move. I had barely taken two steps away from him when I felt it—a sudden tug at my wrist that halted me in my tracks.

I turned back slowly, my blurry vision dropping to my wrist where his hand firmly yet gently held me in place. His grip felt like an anchor, but the storm inside me raged on.