Sitting on the edge of his bed, his face clasped between both hands, Arav's words replayed endlessly in Rihaan's mind.
"We loved each other," he mumbled, his voice cracking.
He punched the pillar beside him, the loud thud echoing through the quiet room. His knuckles bruised almost immediately. He wasn't fragile—certainly not enough for a simple punch to injure him.
It meant only one thing: the blow had been a way to release the fury rising inside his chest. If it continued like this, he feared his heart might burst.
Tears slipped down his cheeks before he even noticed. He wiped them away quickly. He shouldn't—couldn't—cry over someone like Arav.
He had only known how to love. He never imagined he would be the one burned alive by it, never thought that all his hopes could be erased so fast.
Even so, from the ruins of his broken heart, tears continued to rise—tears he refused to let fall again.
