DIYA'S POV
The week after that night should have been golden.
It was, at first.
Movie nights where his arms became my home. Laughter that lingered like sunlight. Fingers tangled in mine like they'd never let go.
But then—
The cracks.
Missed replies. Canceled plans. Conversations that fizzled into silence. His voice, when he did speak, felt distant—like he was already halfway out the door.
"Are we okay?" I asked him that night, my heart a frantic thing in my chest.
"Yeah," he said too quickly. "Why wouldn't we be?"
Liar.
I messaged Aarav—desperate, shaking—and joined the call like a thief in the night, listening to the boy I loved unravel.
"I wasn't ready," Maddy admitted, voice raw. "It's not about her. It's me."
And then—
"I'm wondering if I need a break."
The words splintered me.
I left before I could hear more. Before I could hear him confirm what I already knew:
I was losing him.
In the dark of my room, I pressed my palms to my eyes, but the tears came anyway. Hot. Relentless.
How could he?
After everything—after the way he'd looked at me that night, after the promises his hands had made against my skin—how could he just… step back?
My phone buzzed.
Maddy: Can we talk?
I didn't reply.
Not yet.
Because right now?
I was breaking too.
MADDY'S POV
I fucked up.
I knew it the second the words left my mouth. "I need a break."
Aarav's glare could've melted steel. "You're an idiot."
Yeah. No shit.
But it was too late. The call had ended—had she heard?—and now my chest felt like it'd been hollowed out.
Because Diya deserved better.
She deserved someone who didn't panic when things got real. Someone who didn't freeze up after intimacy like a goddamn coward.
I'd been the one to kiss her. I'd been the one to whisper "only you."
And then?
I'd run.
Not physically. But emotionally? I'd checked out.
Because that night—fuck—that night had rewritten something in me.
Holding her afterward, skin to skin, her heartbeat under my palm… it hit me like a freight train:
This wasn't just fun anymore.
This was love.
And love?
Love was terrifying.
My phone buzzed.
Aarav: She left the call. She heard you, dumbass.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
Me: I know.
I typed out a message to Diya, then deleted it. Then typed it again.
Me: Can we talk?
No reply.
The silence was worse than anger.
Because I knew what it meant.
I'd hurt her.
And now?
I had to fix it.