At that moment, when no one stood by her side, when even the air around her felt heavy with judgment, Aman, of all people, believed her. Aman, who had a thousand reasons not to trust her. Aman, whose eyes had seen her in the worst light before. And yet… he believed.
But Saisha didn't know that. She had walked away from that hospital with her heart clenched tight, her mind screaming at her to shut everyone out.
Aman tried calling. Again. And again. And again. Each call went unanswered. Each message remained unopened.
Hours later, Saisha's phone lit up. Sam.
"Saisha, come to the park right now… your dad—" The words sliced through her. Her breath caught, and without another thought, she ran.
The park was quiet when she arrived. Too quiet. Her eyes darted around, searching for her father—But all she saw was Aman, standing under the old lamp post, hands in his pockets, his face unreadable.
"Aman… where's Dad?"
"Saisha… I—"
She froze. Her stomach dropped. "You told Sam to call me, didn't you?" The disappointment in her tone wasn't loud, but it was sharp enough to cut.
She turned to leave, but Aman caught her wrist. The sudden pull made her ankle twist. "Aman!" she snapped, yanking slightly. "How much more inconvenience, aman? Why are you bothering me? Wasn't angel enough?"
She wasn't done. Her words came out bitter, laced with the hurt she'd been swallowing for days. "Look… I'm a liar, I'm the bad one, okay? Fine. I'm sorry. So please, just keep me out of this drama."
She turned away, blinking hard so the tears wouldn't spill, but the crack in her voice betrayed her.
Behind her, Aman's voice came low, almost like he was speaking to her back, to her shadow. "I know you're not a liar. And you're not bad."
She stopped, but didn't turn around. For some reason, those words… felt heavier than all the accusations she'd heard that day.
Saisha's back was still to him. She didn't move, didn't turn, just stood there, breathing slowly, as his voice reached her.
"You're not a liar," Aman said quietly. "And you're not a bad person."
For a second, she thought he would stop there. But he didn't.
"I know… I've done a lot of wrong," his voice softened, almost breaking on the words, "but please… if even now, you can find it in yourself to forgive me—" He paused, like he was unsure whether he should say the next part.
"Tomorrow… is my birthday. I… Hope you'll come."
Her fingers tightened around her phone. The air between them felt heavy, almost fragile, as if she breathed too loudly, it would shatter.
She didn't turn to face him. She couldn't.
And before she could say anything, Aman stepped away. His footsteps faded into the quiet park, leaving her under the dim glow of the lamp post, staring at the ground… with a heart that suddenly felt too loud in her chest.
The park felt colder after Aman left, though the night air hadn't changed. Saisha just stood there for a long moment, staring at the space he had walked away from.
"Why does he always… leave me with words I can't ignore?" she muttered under her breath.
By the time she reached home, her mind was a storm. She tossed her bag aside, sat on her bed, and stared at her hands.
It was always the same pattern. Yash had once made her believe she was his whole world — only to break her in ways she didn't even know were possible. She'd promised herself she'd never let anyone get close enough to hurt her like that again.
And now Angel… she had done the same. Twisted the truth, turned everyone against her, made her feel small and unwanted.
She had every reason to think Aman was no different. Every reason not to go.
And yet…
His words kept replaying in her head. "You're not a liar… and you're not a bad person." No one had said that to her in a long time one had believed her without proof.
She hugged her knees to her chest, fighting with herself. "Don't be stupid, Saisha. Don't you dare." But then a quieter voice inside whispered…"What if he really means it?"
Sleep didn't come easily that night. Because somewhere deep down, she knew, she'd already decided. Tomorrow, no matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise… she would go.