The journalist arrived earlier than expected.
Dhruve saw him standing at the café entrance — tall, sharp-eyed, the kind of man who looked like he didn't waste time on polite smiles. The morning light fell across his glasses, reflecting a quiet intensity. Rhea shifted uncomfortably beside Dhruve, fingers tightening around her sleeves. She had dressed simply — soft sweater, hair tied loosely — but her eyes held a tension she couldn't hide.
"Mr. Dhruve?" the journalist asked.
"Yeah," Dhruve replied. "And this is—"
"Rhea," she cut in softly.
The journalist nodded, analyzing them both in one sweep. "Let's sit."
The moment they sat down, Dhruve felt the weight return — the same weight he had been slowly shedding these past few weeks. He had been healing… little by little. Nights where he could finally sleep. Mornings where he could see a future without that old bitterness choking him. And moments with Rhea that felt painfully fragile but beautifully real.
Today threatened all of that.
The journalist wasted no time."I've reviewed your documents," he said. "Everything lines up. But there's one issue."
Dhruve felt his stomach tighten. Rhea's breath hitched.
The man leaned in. "Her ex — Arvind — he's stirring noise online. Indirect comments. Passive-aggressive posts. No names, but clearly aimed at her. And you."
Rhea's shoulders stiffened. "He wouldn't dare—"
"He would," the journalist cut in calmly. "He already has."
Dhruve clenched his jaw. Shit.
Just when he thought his past had finally died, it twitched back to life like a rotten corpse that refused to stay buried.
Rhea looked down, voice trembling. "I… I didn't think he'd still care."
Dhruve looked at her, surprised by the rawness in her voice. "Care? He's obsessed."
The journalist's gaze sharpened. "That's why I'm warning you both. If you want this story handled cleanly, we need to be smarter. One wrong move, and he'll twist everything."
The meeting dragged on with strategies, precautions, and decisions. Rhea kept glancing at Dhruve as if trying to read his mood. Dhruve, meanwhile, felt old instincts rising — the urge to fight, to destroy, to never let anyone hold power over him again.
But then he felt Rhea brush her knee against his — a silent grounding gesture — and he forced himself to breathe.
When the meeting ended, the journalist stood and adjusted his coat.
"I'll start drafting. But prepare yourselves. When truth comes out, people don't react reasonably. They react loudly."
Then he left.
Silence settled between Dhruve and Rhea.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Finally, Rhea whispered, "I didn't know he still had this much hatred."
Dhruve watched her hands tremble. "He wanted to own you. And when he couldn't, he decided to ruin you."
Her eyes glistened. "I'm scared, Dhruve."
The honesty of it hit him harder than anything else today.
He reached out, slowly, giving her enough time to pull away if she wanted. She didn't. Her fingers slid into his like she'd been waiting for it.
"Hey," he said softly, "I'm here. You're not going through this alone."
Her breath shuddered as she looked up at him. "Why are you so gentle with me? After everything… why?"
Dhruve swallowed. Damn. That question hit too close.
"I don't know," he said quietly. "Maybe because… you never tried to break me."
Rhea's eyes softened — a pain, a longing, a fear — all tangled together. She slowly rose from her chair.
"Walk with me?" she asked.
Dhruve nodded.
The sky was overcast as they stepped outside, wind brushing past like a cold whisper. Rhea walked beside him in silence, her fingers still laced loosely with his. The city noise felt distant, muted, like the world had softened just for this moment.
Finally, she stopped near a quiet corner of the street.
"Dhruve…" she murmured, eyes lowering. "Can I say something stupid?"
He sighed softly. "Everything you say is stupid."
She gasped and smacked his arm lightly. "I'm serious!"
He chuckled. "Go on."
Her voice dropped. "I… don't want to lose you."
Dhruve froze.
Those words sank into him like warm water over old scars. Slowly, he reached out and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, fingers brushing her cheek. She leaned into his touch instinctively, closing her eyes for a heartbeat too long.
"Rhea…" he whispered, "you're not losing me."
When she opened her eyes, they were shimmering with the kind of vulnerability she rarely showed.
"Then don't pull away like you did last night. Don't walk out like I don't matter."
Dhruve felt his chest tighten. "I'm trying," he admitted. "But sometimes… I'm scared too."
She stepped closer, their breath mixing in the cold air.
"Then let's be scared together," she whispered.
And before he could answer, she leaned up and pressed her lips to his — soft, hesitant, trembling with fear and want. Not a burning kiss. Not a lustful one. Just… fragile, emotional, real.
Dhruve's hands slid gently to her waist, anchoring her. The moment lasted just long enough to make both of them wish it wouldn't end.
When she pulled back, her forehead rested against his.
"Whatever happens with your past… with mine… I'm here," she whispered.
Dhruve closed his eyes.
For the first time in years, he believed someone.
But then—
A vibration buzzed in Rhea's pocket.
She checked her phone.
Her face drained of color.
Dhruve felt the shift. "What is it?"
She swallowed hard and handed him the screen.
A message.
From her ex.
"You think you've escaped?You think he can protect you?Watch what I do next."
Dhruve felt something cold and violent ignite in his chest.
The past wasn't done.
And it was coming for both of them.