Aayansh’s POV
I knew the moment I closed her door that she wasn’t asleep.Ruhi had a certain stillness when she slept.
This wasn’t it.This was withdrawal.
I leaned my forehead against the wall outside her room, counting my breaths like that would quiet the storm inside my chest.
She was angry. Not loud. Not explosive.Worse.
She was thinking.
I’d seen that look on her face before when she refused to accept half truths, when silence became an insult instead of comfort.
And God help me, I understood why.But understanding didn’t change what I knew.
Vikrant’s words echoed in my head from earlier that night.
“The accident wasn’t an accident.”
“Her mother wasn’t alone.”
“There was someone else. Someone careful.”
Careful people didn’t leave notes.Careful people waited.
And whoever was watching Ruhi now wasn’t reckless. He was patient.
That scared me more than any threat ever could.
I’d noticed it before she did.
The way her name appeared on systems that had no reason to log her.
The way CCTV footage vanished cleanly no glitches, no residue.
The way security felt one step behind something invisible.
And then there was the scar.I hadn’t told Ruhi that part.
The wrist. The old injury that didn’t belong to chance.Because the moment I did, she would start remembering.
And memories, once awake, don’t stop just because you beg them to.
I walked back to my room and shut the door quietly.
Control. That’s what it looked like from the outside.
But inside me, there was only calculation wrapped around fear.
If I kept her close, she’d be safe. If I kept her informed, she’d chase answers. If she chased answers, she’d put herself in his line of sight.
And I couldn’t let that happen.
Not again.
The note. The flowers. The timing.This wasn't an obsession.
This was someone trying to replace me without touching her.
I clenched my fists.
He wanted her to doubt me. To feel contained instead of protected. To start walking alone.
I would not give him that.
So I made the decision I knew she would hate.
More security. Less freedom. More silence.
I told myself I was buying time.But deep down, I knew the truth.
I was choosing control because I was afraid of what would happen if she knew what I did.
Outside the window, something moved or maybe I imagined it.
Either way, I didn’t look away.
Because somewhere in this city, someone was watching the woman I loved like she was a puzzle meant to be solved.
And I was running out of ways to protect her without losing her.
I went downstairs.Rishabh was in the living room, phone in hand, already reading my face before I said a word.
“Is she okay?” he asked quietly.
I exhaled through my nose. “She’s angry. Doesn’t want to talk.”
He nodded once, like he’d expected nothing else.
“It’s just for a while,” he said. “Until things settle.”
Until what settles?
The threat?
The truth?
Or her patience?
I didn’t argue. I just nodded, told him I was heading out.We said our goodbyes, and I stepped into the night.
The moment I reached my car, something in my chest tightened.
Instinct.I looked up.And there he was.
Across the street.
Leaning casually against his car.
A hoodie. A mask. Hands loose, posture relaxed too relaxed.He was parked directly in front of Ruhi’s balcony.Staring at her room.
My blood turned cold.
I took a step toward him.Slow. Deliberate.
That’s when he turned his head. Our eyes met.And in that second, I knew.
He wasn’t surprised.He wasn’t nervous.He didn’t even rush.
Instead, he straightened, brushed imaginary dust from his hoodie, and lifted two fingers in a mocking salute.
See you later.
Then he got into his car.And drove away.
Just like that.No threat. No chase. No fear.
I didn’t hesitate.
I got into my car and followed him.
The engine roared to life, my pulse matching its rhythm as I kept a careful distance.
He knew I was behind him.
I could tell by the way he drove steady, unhurried, never once checking if I’d fall back.
This wasn't an escape.
This was permission.
Streetlights blurred past as the city stretched open around us, empty and unaware.
My hands tightened around the steering wheel.Because this wasn’t a stalker being caught.
This was a man letting me follow him.
And for the first time since this started, one thought cut through everything else
He wasn’t watching Ruhi because he was afraid of me.He was watching her because he wanted me to see him do it.
And that meant one thing.This wasn’t a warning anymore.
It was an invitation.
He didn’t try to lose me.That was the first thing that made my skin crawl.
No sudden turns. No reckless speed. Just smooth driving through half lit roads, like he had all the time in the world.
Like this was his city.
I stayed close enough to see his taillights, far enough not to spook him though I knew by now he didn’t scare easily.
Finally, he slowed.
An empty stretch of road near an old warehouse line. No traffic. No cameras I could spot at first glance.
He pulled over.And stopped.
So did I.
For a moment, neither of us moved.
The night hummed around us distant horns, the low buzz of streetlights, my own heartbeat pounding in my ears.
Then he stepped out.Slow. Unhurried.
I got out too, slamming my door shut.
He turned to face me.
Up close, the mask didn’t hide much. Not the confidence. Not the amusement sitting comfortably in his eyes.
“You’re predictable,” he said casually, like we were discussing the weather.
“I knew you’d follow.”
I clenched my jaw. “Get away from her.”
He laughed soft, almost fond.
“From her?” he repeated. “You talk like she’s fragile glass.”
I took a step forward. “You’ve been watching her. Following her. Leaving notes. You think I won’t end this?”
He tilted his head slightly, studying me.
“End what?” he asked. “You don’t even know what this is.”
My fists curled. “Say her name.”
A pause.Then, clearly, deliberately
“Ruhi.”
The way he said it made something ugly twist in my chest.“You don’t get to say it like that.”
A slow smile curved beneath his mask. I could see it in his eyes.
“She’s already mine, Aayansh.”
The words hit harder than any punch.
I crossed the distance between us in two strides, grabbing the front of his hoodie and slamming him back against his car.
“You say that again,” I growled, “and you won’t walk away from here.”
He didn’t resist.Didn’t struggle.Didn’t even raise his hands.
Instead, he leaned in just enough to speak quietly so quietly it felt like a secret meant only for me.
“You can threaten me all you want,” he said. “But you’re the one keeping her in the dark.”
My grip tightened.
“She trusts you,” he continued. “And you’re repaying that trust with silence. Control. Half truths.”
I shoved him harder. “You don’t know anything about us.”
“Oh, I know enough,” he replied calmly. “I know she’s asking questions. I know she’s remembering things she shouldn’t have been forced to forget.”
My blood ran cold.
“And I know,” he added, eyes locking onto mine, “that when the truth comes out she won’t forgive the people who hid it from her.”
I released him abruptly, stepping back.
“You’re sick,” I said.
He straightened his hoodie, unfazed. “No,” he corrected. “I’m patient.”
He reached up and tugged his sleeve just slightly enough.
The scar flashed under the streetlight.My breath caught before I could stop it.
I’d seen it.I knew I had.
His eyes sharpened instantly.
“Ah,” he said softly. “You noticed.”
He stepped closer now, invading my space like he owned it.
“She’s getting closer, Aayansh,” he murmured. “Not to me. To the truth.”
A pause.
“And when she finally asks the right questions… she won’t come to you.”
I shoved him back again. “Stay away from her.”
He laughed openly this time.
“You still think you’re the gatekeeper,” he said. “But gates don’t matter once someone decides to walk through.”
He opened his car door, then stopped.
Turned back.
“One more thing,” he added. “You don’t lose her because of me.”
His eyes darkened.
“You lose her because you don’t trust her enough to let her choose.”
Then he got into his car.
And drove away.
I stood there long after the sound of his engine disappeared.
Because for the first timeI wasn’t sure who was chasing whom anymore.
And worse I wasn’t sure if I was protecting Ruhi…Or slowly pushing her straight into his path.
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