Ira's pov
He didn't move.
Just stood there.
Like time hadn't touched him at all.
My chest rose and fell in shallow breaths.
Why was he here?
He lived in Delhi.
We met in Delhi.
We ended in Delhi.
And now, suddenly—Mumbai?
At my cousin's wedding?
Of all places?
Of all people?
My mind raced through possibilities.
Had he followed me?
Had he planned this?
Was it a coincidence?
My fingers trembled slightly.
I clenched them into a fist, trying to ground myself.
He looked the same.
No.
He looked worse.
Better.
Older, sharper, calmer.
Like a blade freshly polished.
Then someone stepped between us.
I blinked, startled.
Aanya's fiancé, Karan, walked toward us with a wide grin.
"Ira!" he called.
I snapped out of my daze and stood quickly.
He reached us, standing beside Kabir like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"I want you to meet my best friend," he said cheerfully.
"Kabir Sinha."
My heart stopped again.
He was introduced like a stranger.
Like we had never—
Never cried, never touched, never screamed in the dark.
Kabir gave a polite nod.
No smirk.
No tension.
No madness in his eyes.
"Nice to meet you," he said smoothly.
To Aanya.
To me.
Like I was no one.
Just another guest.
He didn't touch her.
Only gave her a brief hello.
Then those unreadable eyes flicked to mine.
A smile—soft, rehearsed, meaningless—lifted his lips.
It was worse than anger.
Worse than obsession.
It was indifference.
I stood frozen, unsure how to breathe.
He turned to Karan and asked something casual.
I didn't hear.
Everything around me blurred for a second.
Relief fought with pain inside me.
He wasn't acting obsessed.
Wasn't clinging.
Wasn't staring.
That should've been good.
Should've been a win.
Then another voice joined the group.
Warm. Familiar.
"Hey, sorry I'm late!"
I turned.
Aarav.
My fiancé.
He was slightly out of breath, holding his phone, adjusting his watch.
"Work call," he added with an apologetic smile.
He looked around and nodded politely at everyone.
Karan clapped his back.
"There you are. Come, meet Kabir."
I froze again.
No.
No no no—
Please don't say my name.
Don't introduce me like that—
"This is Ira's fiancé," Karan said proudly, resting a hand on Aarav's shoulder.
Aarav offered a hand.
Kabir looked at it.
For a second, just one second, I saw something dark in his eyes.
Something familiar.
But then it vanished.
He took the hand.
"Nice to meet you," Kabir said.
Calm. Civil. Almost warm.
Aarav smiled back.
They shook hands like normal people.
No tension.
No threats.
No madness.
I exhaled.
Quietly.
Carefully.
Maybe he had changed.
Maybe… he'd given up.
We stood there, a group of five.
Talking. Laughing.
Except I wasn't really there.
I was still checking his every move.
Watching for a slip.
But he played his role perfectly.
A stranger among friends.
A ghost wearing skin.
Soon, more people joined us.
Cousins. Friends. Neighbors.
The music returned.
The dhol picked up its rhythm again.
We moved on to games.
Rangoli competitions.
Tug of war.
Pass-the-parcel with dares.
Laughter echoed through the courtyard.
Aanya smeared haldi on Karan's nose.
Aarav helped an old aunt sit down comfortably.
I tried to lose myself in the crowd.
Tried to forget the man just meters away.
Once or twice, I caught him watching me.
Not in a way others would notice.
But I knew.
I could feel it in my spine.
And yet, he didn't approach.
Didn't speak.
Didn't claim.
It was unnerving.
So unlike him.
Too unlike him.
Even when we all sat down for snacks, and he was barely five feet away—he didn't say a word to me.
My heart kept flinching, waiting for something to explode.
But nothing did.
As the sun dipped lower, the lanterns lit up around the courtyard.
Orange, gold, and pink paper lights floated above us.
Children ran around, chasing bubbles.
Teenagers screamed over charades.
I stayed busy helping the women with serving sweets.
Then someone asked me to grab more napkins from inside.
I nodded, grateful for a moment alone.
I slipped away quietly into the house.
The hallway was dim, cooler.
I walked to the side room where the extra supplies were kept.
Bent down to pick the stack of napkins.
When I straightened up—
He was there.
Standing in the doorway.
Like a shadow finally stepping into light.
My throat dried instantly.
His eyes locked onto mine.
Calm.
Dark.
Unblinking.
"I'd like to speak to you," he said softly.
Not a request.
Not a threat.
Just… inevitable.
And just like that—
Everything I had spent years burying…
Rose to the surface.
---
To be continued...