Avantika’s POV

The hot water from the bath didn’t wash away the day. Not really. I still felt their laughter echoing in my ears, still felt the stickiness of juice on my skin—even after I scrubbed till it hurt. My reflection looked pale. Tired. But I smiled at myself anyway.

Because that’s what I do. I survive.

I walked barefoot to the kitchen, tying my wet hair into a messy bun. I opened the fridge, grabbed what I needed, and started making something simple....just rice and a quick curry. Nothing fancy. Nothing that’d make noise. He was home.

Yes, we both make our own food. In the same house. In the same fucking kitchen. Like two strangers forced to share the same space by the weight of a paper that calls us “husband and wife.”

He never eats what I cook.

And now I don’t ask.

After dinner, I washed my plate and padded quietly to the living room. The light from the TV flickered across the empty walls as I sat on the sofa, curling my knees close to my chest.

My mind, of course, went back to college.

Tomorrow again.

Tomorrow I’ll walk through those gates knowing Isha’s eyes will find me. Knowing she’ll tear something, break something—me. Again. Just like today. And every other day before it.

I sighed and looked down at my fingers. They were still trembling.

Then I heard it.

The  door creaked open.

Arjun walked out, his hair wet, droplets trailing down his toned chest like the world owed him worship. A pair of low-slung sweatpants clung to his hips, and he was rubbing his hand through his damp hair like he didn’t have a care in the goddamn world.

He didn’t even glance at me.

Just walked right past and sat on the other end of the sofa—like there wasn’t a girl sitting here who had once stood next to him in a mandap. Like I didn’t fucking exist.

He picked up the remote and flipped to the cricket channel, adjusting himself comfortably. Our skin didn’t even come close to brushing.

I stole a glance.

God, he looked so happy. So...free.

I looked away quickly. Bit my lip. Focused on the game just to keep myself distracted. The silence between us was thick, loud in its own cruel way.

And then his phone rang.

He didn’t even check the name. Just answered with that low, easy voice of his.

“Haan bol na.”

He laughed at whatever the other person said, leaning his head back against the sofa, his smile stretching wide.

“Nahh… fuck really??” he chuckled, voice full of amusement.

“That’s so embarrassing, dude—” he added, still laughing, completely lost in the call.

And in that moment, I felt like I was interrupting. Like I was some accidental background noise in the story of his life.

I stood up slowly. Quietly. Not that he’d have noticed even if I screamed.

I didn’t say a word.

I didn’t need to.

He was happy.

And I wouldn’t ruin that.

So I turned around, walked to the bedroom, and shut the door behind me. My throat burned. Not from crying.

Just from holding everything in.

.....

The morning sun burned a little too brightly as I stepped through the college gate, clutching my bag close, heart pounding already. My eyes were on the ground, trying to stay invisible, trying not to breathe too loud.

Then—

A hand slammed down on my shoulder.

I flinched hard.

“Yaa, garbage... good morning.”

Isha’s voice—sweet, cruel, soaked in venom.

Her friend giggled beside her like a damn hyena.

“G-good morning...” I whispered, forcing my voice to come out, my hands cold.

Isha suddenly stopped walking, and I froze with her.

“Give this to Arjun.” She smiled sweetly, shoving a juice box in my hand. “You know Arjun Das, right?”

I swallowed. My mouth had gone dry.

I shook my head quickly—No. I don’t know him. Not here. Not like this.

“No worries...” she grinned, dragging me forward by the wrist. “I’ll show you.”

She pulled me across the campus lawn and down to the ground where the football team was just wrapping up practice. A bunch of them were sitting around, sweat-soaked shirts clinging to them, laughter echoing across the field.

And then—I saw him.

Arjun.

He was leaning back on his hands, his damp hair sticking to his forehead, those stormy grey eyes squinting under the sun. His jaw was tense, his chest rising and falling steadily from exertion.

Isha pointed him out like she was gifting me gold.

“That grey-eyed one.”

She smirked.

I nodded, silently.

My chest ached.

“Go give it to him. Tell him I gave it. Go!!” she said, pushing me hard from behind.

My legs moved on their own. I didn’t want to go. I didn’t want to feel his cold eyes on me, not here. Not when he pretends I don’t exist even under the same roof.

But I went.

I walked slowly—each step heavier than the last.

His team noticed me first. One of them called out with a grin, “Yes? Can we help you?”

Arjun turned to look.

His eyes narrowed the moment he saw me. That familiar, unreadable frown etched itself back into place.

My hands were shaking.

“Th-th-this j-j-juice…” I stammered, my voice cracking like glass.

“F-from… I-Isha…”

I kept it down on the grass in front of him and turned around, running before the heat in my cheeks exploded into tears.

“What’s wrong with her?”I heard someone chuckle.

“Is she mute or something?” another laughed.

Their voices were loud, cruel, cutting.

But I didn’t stop.

I didn’t look back.

I just ran straight to class, biting down so hard on my lip it bled,

my heartbeat roaring in my ears louder than any voice.

And all I could think was—

He saw me.

He looked at me.

And it still didn’t matter.

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