Chapter 5: The Hidden Past

The air around the table seemed to freeze as Vikram sat down, his presence unmistakable. Aradhana’s heart skipped a beat, and she instinctively glanced at Reyansh, who sat motionless, his eyes locked on Vikram. The warmth of the café suddenly felt suffocating, as if the very walls were closing in on them.

“Vikram,” Aradhana said, trying to sound casual, though her voice betrayed the unease that was bubbling inside her. “What are you doing here?”

Vikram gave a small, almost playful smile, but there was something in his eyes that was anything but light-hearted. “I could ask you the same, Aradhana. But I guess I have my answer now,” he replied, his gaze flickering between her and Reyansh.

Aradhana shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her mind racing. She hadn’t seen Vikram in years, not since their last, painful confrontation. She thought she had left all of that behind when she moved away from Delhi, but it seemed that the past had a way of catching up with you, no matter how far you tried to run.

Reyansh remained silent, his expression unreadable. His jaw was clenched, and Aradhana could feel the tension building. She knew him well enough to recognize the signs—he was holding something back, something that could change the course of their evening.

Vikram, oblivious to the growing tension between them, leaned back in his chair, his eyes scanning the café before landing back on Aradhana. “You’ve been keeping things to yourself, haven’t you?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.

Aradhana frowned, trying to keep her emotions in check. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Vikram chuckled softly, a sound that made Aradhana’s stomach tighten. “Oh, come on. Don’t pretend like you don’t know. The way you left things, the way we ended... It was all so abrupt. It’s like you’ve erased me from your life.”

The words hit her like a physical blow. It was a reminder of everything she had tried to bury—the hurt, the unresolved feelings, the mistakes. She could feel her heart beat faster, and for a moment, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to confront it all. But Reyansh’s presence made it impossible to ignore.

Aradhana turned to Reyansh, desperate to gauge his reaction, but his face was a mask. He hadn’t spoken a word since Vikram arrived, and it was clear that the silence between them was growing heavier with each passing second.

“I didn’t erase you, Vikram,” Aradhana said, her voice shaking slightly. “I just… I needed space. I wasn’t ready for what you wanted.”

Vikram’s smile faltered, his gaze sharpening. “Space? Or were you just scared?”

She bristled at the insinuation. “I wasn’t scared. I just needed to figure things out.”

“And now you’re back, trying to pick up where we left off?” Vikram pressed, his tone changing. It was no longer playful, but intense, probing.

Before Aradhana could respond, Reyansh spoke for the first time, his voice calm but carrying an edge that Aradhana hadn’t heard before. “I don’t think Aradhana owes you an explanation for her choices, Vikram.”

Vikram’s eyes flickered to Reyansh, and for the first time, Aradhana saw a flicker of something else in his expression—resentment. The air between them thickened, the tension palpable as they both sized each other up, like two opposing forces about to collide.

“I’m sure she doesn’t,” Vikram replied coolly, his gaze never leaving Reyansh. “But it’s clear that things have changed. I didn’t expect to find out that Aradhana’s heart had already been claimed.”

Reyansh’s posture stiffened, and his eyes narrowed. “You’re mistaken, Vikram,” he said, his voice steady but filled with a quiet intensity. “Aradhana’s heart is not something to be claimed. It’s her own.”

The way Reyansh said the last words caught Aradhana off guard, and she quickly turned her focus back to him, searching his eyes for some kind of answer. But his expression remained guarded, his emotions hidden behind a wall that she couldn’t break through.

Vikram leaned forward, his voice dropping to a low murmur, but his words were sharp. “Just remember, Reyansh, not everything is as simple as you think. People have histories—Aradhana and I included.”

Aradhana felt a cold shiver run down her spine. She knew exactly what Vikram was referring to—their shared past. The late-night conversations, the promises that were made but never kept. The love they had once shared, only to be ripped apart by their own insecurities.

But that was years ago. Wasn’t it?

Reyansh didn’t back down. “Whatever history you two have, it’s in the past, Vikram. Aradhana deserves to move forward, not be dragged back into the mess you created.”

The words stung, more than Aradhana cared to admit. She hadn’t expected Reyansh to defend her so fiercely, especially when the situation was so delicate. But there was something about the way he spoke, the conviction in his voice, that made her feel both vulnerable and protected at the same time.

Vikram stood up abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor as he did. “I see. Well, I’ve said my piece. But don’t be surprised when the past comes knocking again. It always does.”

With that, he turned and walked out of the café, leaving Aradhana and Reyansh in a silence that was now filled with unspoken questions.

Aradhana didn’t know what to say. She felt like a part of her had been exposed, vulnerable to both Reyansh and Vikram. The past was no longer something she could pretend to ignore.

Reyansh reached across the table, his hand gently resting over hers. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft, though there was a hint of concern in his eyes.

Aradhana met his gaze, her heart heavy with emotion. The truth was, she didn’t know if she was okay. The past had been dredged up in the most unexpected way, and now she was left to sort through the wreckage.

“I don’t know,” she whispered.

Reyansh squeezed her hand, a silent promise that he would be there, even if the road ahead was unclear. And for the first time in a long while, Aradhana allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t alone in this.

But as she sat there, a lingering question kept echoing in her mind: Could the past ever truly stay buried?

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