"I'm so sorry," she whispered again, voice muffled against his chest.
He stroked her hair.
"It's okay. You were scared. I get it."
Dia cleared her throat, awkward but gentle.
"Look… sister in law, right? Don't feel bad. You didn't know me. I showed up looking like some rock band roadie. Easy mistake."
Preety gave a wet laugh.
"I thought you were his mistress," she admitted in horror.
Dia snorted.
"Girl, I don't even like men. I mean… big brother's great and all, but ew. No offense, big brother."
Romy rolled his eyes.
"Thanks, Princess."
Preety managed a tiny smile, wiping her eyes.
"I overreacted."
"You did," Romy said evenly. Then he softened. "But I forgive you."
She took a deep breath.
"Thank you."
Just then the main door opened behind them.
Mr. Roy and Mrs. Roy came bustling out, beaming.
"Is that my Dia?" Mr. Roy cried.
Dia squealed.
"Uncle!"
She rushed forward and all but tackled him in a hug.
The Welcome
Laughter bubbled up as Mr. Roy tried to keep his balance.
"Careful, you mad girl!"
Mrs. Roy pulled her into her own hug, kissing both her cheeks.
"Look at you! All grown up and… and… what is this haircut?"
Dia ran a hand through her cropped hair sheepishly.
"Modern America look, Masi. Get with the times."
Mrs. Roy rolled her eyes fondly.
"Disgraceful. But you're beautiful. Welcome home."
Preety watched quietly, the guilt still obvious on her face.
Mrs. Roy finally noticed her.
"Preety? Are you okay?"
Preety swallowed.
"I'm fine… I just… misunderstood something."
Romy squeezed her hand, offering silent reassurance.
Soon they all went inside. Servants bustled about carrying Dia's giant luggage.
Mr. Roy insisted on sitting everyone down in the living room.
"Tea! We need tea! And snacks!" he commanded grandly.
Dia flopped onto the couch, legs dangling over the side.
"Ah, Indian hospitality. I missed this."
Preety hesitated, then sat beside her.
Dia eyed her warily.
Preety took a deep breath.
"Dia… I really am sorry. I behaved horribly."
Dia smirked.
"You did. I forgive you anyway."
Preety blinked in surprise.
"Just like that?"
Dia shrugged.
"I have cousins in America who tried to get me deported over an Xbox fight. You're mild."
Preety snorted despite herself.
They shared a shy smile.
The Phone Call
As they laughed, Romy's phone buzzed on the table.
He glanced at the screen.
Monty.
His heart skipped.
He snatched it up and walked a few steps away, trying not to grin too much.
He answered.
"Monty!"
Monty's voice crackled with frustration.
"Finally! Where the hell were you? I've been calling all day!"
Romy winced.
"Long story. Preety thought I was cheating on her with my cousin sister Dia."
Monty groaned.
"Shit. You okay?"
"Yeah, all fine now."
"Good. Listen—where are you?"
"At home."
"Dammit. I'm halfway to Kolkata. Dad says you're supposed to be with me for the tender meeting."
Romy blinked.
"Wait. What?"
"Yeah. Didn't he tell you?"
"No!"
"Typical. Look, get in your car and drive. Meet me at the resort. I'll text you the location. Don't waste time."
Romy ran a hand through his hair.
"Fine. I'll leave now."
"Good. And Romy?"
"Yeah?"
"…Be safe."
Romy smiled despite the stress.
"You too."
The Family Notices
When he turned back, his father was eyeing him knowingly.
"Monty?"
Romy nodded.
Mr. Roy stroked his mustache thoughtfully.
"Prem just called. He's busy here but sending Monty to help with the tender. Said you boys are the future. Handle it."
Romy saluted sarcastically.
"Yes "
Mrs. Roy shushed him.
"Be serious, Romy. This is important."
"I know, Ma."
Dia perked up.
"Wait—you're leaving already? But I just got here!"
Romy ruffled her hair.
"Sorry, Princess. Business calls."
She pouted.
"Fine. Abandon me. Typical brother."
Preety shifted uncomfortably.
Romy caught it.
He walked over and cupped her face.
"I'll be back in 7 days, okay? Don't overthink. We're fine."
Preparing to Leave
Romy dashed upstairs to pack.
Dia flopped back onto the couch dramatically.
Romy Leaves
Romy thundered back down, dragging his suitcase.
"Bye everyone!"
Mrs. Roy kissed his cheek.
"Be safe."
Mr. Roy clapped his shoulder.
"Make us proud."
And then he was gone, car roaring out of the gates.
Monty had been driving for hours.
The early evening sun was beginning to dip, draping the long, endless highway in molten orange. The low hum of the engine was soothing but deceptive—a lull before disaster.
He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.
"Stupid traffic," he muttered. "Come on…"
He glanced at Romy's last message.
Leaving now. Will catch up soon.
Monty's lips twitched in reluctant fondness.
"Idiot," he said to the empty car.
But he smiled, imagining Romy's smirk.
The Other Car
Then he noticed it—a silver sedan weaving wildly behind him in the mirror.
He frowned, squinting.
"The hell?"
It closed in fast.
The driver, Tarak, was yelling at someone on the phone, not even watching the road.
Monty's stomach clenched.
"Shit…"
He hit the horn hard.
"HEY! WATCH IT!"
But it was too late.
The sedan jerked violently, clipping Monty's rear bumper.
The world turned upside-down in a heartbeat.
Impact
The tires shrieked.
Monty's car skidded sideways, fishtailing. He wrestled the wheel, heart jackhammering in his chest.
"Come on, come on—"
The sedan smashed him again, harder this time.
Monty's head snapped to the side, vision flashing white.
Glass exploded.
Steel crumpled like paper.
He heard himself scream.
Then silence—heavy, absolute.
The Roll
The car flipped.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Each slam knocked the breath from his lungs, bones striking metal.
When it finally stopped rolling, it landed on its roof with a metallic shriek, rocking on flattened tires.
Inside, Monty dangled upside-down by his seatbelt.
Blood dripped steadily from a gash on his forehead.
His chest heaved raggedly.
He couldn't move his arm.
Couldn't see properly.
Steam hissed from the ruined engine.
Petrol leaked in fat, shimmering trails, pooling on the asphalt.
The smell was sharp, nauseating.
Wires sparked.
A small flame danced under the crumpled hood.
Outside, traffic ground to a halt.
Horns blared.
A woman screamed.
"Call an ambulance! Oh my God!"
Someone ran toward the wreck.
"Is anyone in there?!"
Monty's fading consciousness
Monty tried to answer.
His mouth worked soundlessly.
Blood trickled over his lips.
He tried to unbuckle, but his fingers were slick, trembling.
Black spots clouded his vision.
His head lolled.
He thought he heard Romy's laugh.
A memory.
A hotel room.
A shower.
Arms around him.
Safe.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, tears mingling with blood.
He didn't hear the final pop of igniting fuel.
Didn't see the flames crawl over twisted metal.
The Rescue
Firefighters arrived ten minutes later.
They pulled hoses, yelling orders.
"Petrol leak! Move back!"
An explosion rocked the wreck, sending shards of glass flying.
They fought the fire back, foam blanketing the flames in suffocating white.
Medics crawled inside the twisted shell, cutting the seatbelt.
Monty's body fell limp into their arms.
They checked his pulse.
"Faint. He's alive! Get the gurney!"
Blood stained their gloves as they lifted him carefully.
They secured his neck, face pale and slack.
One medic pressed an oxygen mask over his mouth.
"Stay with me. Stay awake."
But Monty's eyes fluttered shut.
Meanwhile: Romy Driving
Miles away, Romy's car sliced through traffic.
Music played softly from the stereo, unheard.
He smiled without realizing it, picturing Monty's irritated scowl.
Meet me at the resort.
He wanted to see that scowl in person.
Wanted to tease him for being so damn responsible.
He didn't see the smoke on the horizon yet.
Didn't hear the wail of sirens.
Didn't know.
At the House
Back at the Roy mansion, Dia and Preety sat in silence.
Preety couldn't shake the memory of Monty's solemn eyes, the unspoken bond she'd seen between him and Romy.
Preety swallowed.
The Hospital
Monty was rushed through the ER doors on a stretcher.
Doctors shouted instructions.
"BP dropping! Get me a line!"
"Intubate!"
"Head trauma. Pupils unresponsive on one side."
They worked feverishly.
Nurses cleaned blood away, their faces grim.
A surgeon entered, scanning the wreck report.
"Prep for surgery. He has internal bleeding."
They cut his clothes away, revealing bruises in purple and black.
A nurse squeezed his limp hand gently.
Romy Arrives
Romy's phone rang nonstop as he drove.
At first he ignored it.
Finally he glanced.
Monty Number.
He picked up.
"Hello?"
"Is this Mr. Romy Roy?"
His stomach clenched.
"Yes."
"This is City Hospital. The owner of this phone has had an accident.. You're listed as his emergency contact."
Romy felt the air go out of the car.
"What?"
"You need to come immediately."
The voice was calm but urgent.
"He's critical."
Romy slammed the brakes so hard he nearly fishtailed.
"No—God—no."
He turned the car around in a screech of burning rubber.
The Hospital
He ran through the hospital doors ten minutes later, chest heaving.
The nurse at reception jumped.
"Monty Chaudhary! Where is he?!"
She paled at the wild look in his eyes.
"ICU. Down the hall."
He didn't wait.
He sprinted, sneakers squealing on polished tile.
He found the glass window looking in.
Monty lay there, a pale shape buried in wires and tubes.
Machines beeped in frantic rhythm.
Doctors moved around him, shouting numbers.
Romy slammed a fist against the glass.
"Monty!"
A nurse tried to pull him back.
"Sir, you can't go in!"
He didn't care.
"Monty!"
Inside
Monty's eyes fluttered once.
He saw blurred shapes.
Sound was muffled, like underwater.
He thought he heard his name.
Romy.
His cracked lips curved a millimeter.
I'm sorry.
His eyelids fell shut.
The monitor screamed.
Flatline.
Doctors lunged.
"Code blue!"
Romy watched in horror as they began CPR.
"Don't you die on me!"
Please.
Please, God.
Outside, Romy fell to his knees in the hall, shaking.
All he saw was Monty's pale face behind glass.
All he heard was the echo of Monty's voice in his memory.
Be safe.