CHAPTER-14 The Weight of a Promise

Dhruv stood at the entrance, a ghost in his own past. The world around him was loud—voices overlapping, laughter ringing through the air, the clinking of plates and cutlery merging into the chaos of celebration. But inside him, there was nothing but silence. A heavy, suffocating silence.

His hands trembled as he wiped the sweat off his forehead. His breath was shallow, his chest tightening with every second that passed. The cold air of the auditorium should have soothed him, but it didn't. He felt like he was burning—his nerves set ablaze, his skin too tight for his body. Five years. Five years of running, of hiding, of pretending he didn't care. And yet, here he was.

But what was he even doing here?

It was stupid. A mistake. He should've never come.

His heart slammed against his ribs, an erratic rhythm of panic. His fingers twitched at his sides, itching to reach for the door behind him. One step. That's all it would take. One step and he could be gone, back to wherever he had been all these years. Back to nowhere.

But he didn't move.

Dhruv stood at the entrance, his body rigid, his heart hammering against his ribs like a prisoner desperate to escape. The wedding hall was alive with golden lights, laughter, the rich aroma of sweets and spices, and the sounds of celebration echoing in the air.

But none of it reached him.

The warmth of the place only made the cold inside him worse.

His fingers curled into fists, damp with sweat. Five years.

Five years of silence.Five years of absence.Five years of convincing himself that staying away was the right thing to do.

Yet here he was.

And he couldn't move.

His mind spun through every possible reaction waiting for him inside. Would they recognize him? Would they glare? Whisper? Pretend he didn't exist?

Or worse—

Would no one care that he came back at all?

A cold, sharp breath scraped down his throat. He shouldn't have come.

His body felt like it was made of glass, fragile, on the verge of breaking. He could feel their gazes already, real or imagined—whispers crawling up his spine like invisible hands, pressing into him, drowning him.

"Is that him?""He actually showed up?""How does he have the audacity to come now?"

His throat tightened. He should leave.

Right now.

But then—

A loud, absolutely ecstatic voice shattered through his spiraling thoughts.

"OH-HO-HO!! SWEETS! I HAVE ASCENDED!! THIS IS WHAT HEAVEN TASTES LIKE!!"

Dhruv's eyes flicked toward the sound.

His eyes had found him.

Gorgo.

That damn idiot. Sitting at a table, completely oblivious, shoving food into his mouth like a man possessed. His plate was an overflowing mess of sweets, curries, and whatever else he could get his hands on. He chewed with an obnoxious level of satisfaction, eyes half-closed, making ridiculous sounds—"Mmm! Ahh! Ohhhh, this is divine!"—as if he were at some royal feast.

For a fleeting second, Dhruv felt his lips twitch.

But then, the weight in his chest sank deeper.

Gorgo could enjoy. He could sit in this moment without hesitation, without fear. He had no past here. No ghosts watching him.

But Dhruv?

Dhruv had a thousand.

He could feel them—their eyes, their whispers, their unspoken questions.

"Isn't that…?""He actually came?""How does he have the face to show up now?"

They hadn't said anything. Not yet. But they would.

His fingers curled into fists.

His lungs felt too small.

And then, the worst thought of all—

What would he think?

The one person he came here for.

What would he see when he looked at Dhruv? A friend? Or a stranger? A reminder of abandonment?

Would he smile? Would he be angry? Would he even care?

Dhruv's throat felt dry, his heartbeat growing louder, drowning out every other sound.

"I should go."

His body begged for it. His legs, his lungs, his entire existence screamed at him to run before it was too late.

Because if he saw him—if their eyes met—Dhruv knew he wouldn't be able to take it.

He turned slightly. His shoulder almost brushed the doorframe. One step. That's all it would take.

And yet—he didn't move.

Something kept him rooted in place.

Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was regret.

Or maybe, after all these years… he was just tired of running.

He wasn't ready.....

Not to see their faces.Not to hear their voices.Not to know what five years had done to the people he left behind.

His breath hitched. His body tensed.

The cold night air hit his skin.

And in his eyes—

The tears he refused to let fall.

His vision blurred for a moment. He wiped his face quickly. Just sweat. Just the heat.

His shoulders tensed as he took one small step forward. Just one.

And he whispered to himself—

"Just a little longer. I'll stay… just a little longer."

As Dhruv stood there, eyes fixed on Gorgo's carefree indulgence, he suddenly felt something—an instinct, a shift in the air behind him. His breath hitched. His body tensed before his mind could even register what was happening.

Someone was there.

Slowly, hesitantly, he turned his head just slightly, just enough to see from the corner of his eye. And that's when his heart dropped.

Maya.

She was standing right behind him. So close that if he reached out, he could touch her.

Her lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to say something, but no words came. Her eyes were wide, filled with a storm of emotions—shock, disbelief, confusion... and something else. Something deeper. Something she herself probably didn't even know how to name.

For five years, she had probably imagined this moment in a thousand different ways. But now that it was happening, she was just... still. Frozen.

Her breath hitched.

Her fingers twitched at her sides, curling into weak fists as she took a step forward.

She knew that face.

Even after five years, even after all the unanswered questions, the silence, the nights spent wondering if she would ever see him again—she knew.

It was Dhruv.

He stood there, his back facing her, his body unnaturally stiff, like he already sensed her presence but was too afraid to turn around.

And she understood why.

Because if he turned around—if he met her eyes—he would have to face what he had done.

A storm of emotions crashed inside her chest, fighting for dominance.

Relief.Rage.Sadness.A desperate, aching need to ask, "Why did you leave me?"

But she said nothing.

She didn't know where to begin.

The person standing before her—was he still Dhruv? Was he still the boy she once called her best friend? The boy who had once promised her that no matter what, he would always be there?

He wasn't.

Because that Dhruv would have never left her like this.

Her lips parted, but her voice refused to come out.

And then… she saw his hand.

It was trembling.

Just slightly—but enough.

That's when she realized something.

He was just as afraid as she was.

Dhruv, who had once been so reckless and fearless, who had stood by her side through every storm—was now too afraid to turn around and face her.

A lump formed in her throat.

"You coward…"

The words burned behind her lips, but she couldn't bring herself to say them.

Because deep down, she knew the truth.

"You're not just afraid of facing me… you're afraid of what you've done to me."

The realization crushed her.

This wasn't a reunion. This wasn't some long-awaited moment where things would go back to how they used to be.

No.

This was a funeral.

Because the friendship they once had? It had already died five years ago.

And now, all that was left was the ghost of what they used to be.

Maya felt her fingers twitch again, as if reaching out to him.

But what was the point?

The person she had been waiting for wasn't here anymore.

And maybe… he never would be...she thought..

And Dhruv?

He was drowning.

A wave of guilt, heavier than anything he had ever carried, crashed down on him. It was suffocating. His chest ached. His fingers curled into fists by his sides. He couldn't look at her. He just couldn't.

He felt her before he saw her.

The weight of her presence was crushing, like a storm cloud gathering behind his back, ready to strike him down with a thousand bolts of lightning.

He swallowed, but his throat was dry.

She's here.

Somewhere in the sea of laughter, music, and clinking glasses, she had found him.

A part of him wanted to turn around immediately—to throw himself at her feet, to beg for forgiveness, to say all the things he should have said years ago.

But another part—the part that had been running for five years—was screaming at him to leave.

To disappear.

To pretend that this moment wasn't happening.

His hands were shaking. His heartbeat slammed against his ribs, so loud it drowned out the wedding noise.

He wanted to say something.He needed to say something.

But what?

What do you say to someone you abandoned?

To someone who once trusted you with their whole heart—only for you to break it?

"I'm sorry?"

"I missed you?"

"I was a coward?"

None of it was enough.

Because no words could fix what he had done.

He clenched his fists to stop them from shaking, but it didn't help.

He could feel Maya standing behind him, just waiting.

She wants me to turn around.

But he couldn't.

Because if he did—if he met her eyes—he knew he would see it.

That pain.

That betrayal.

That unspoken question burning in her gaze:

"Why did you leave me?"

And he had no answer.

Because even after all these years, he didn't know why.

Or maybe he did.

Maybe he was just too ashamed to say it.

So he stood there, frozen, stuck between the past and the present.

Between the boy he used to be and the man who had to face the consequences.

And for the first time in five years, he realized that he had nowhere to run anymore.

He realized that none of his excuses would be enough. Nothing could make up for five years of absence. Five years of silence.

So he just stood there, trapped in the unbearable weight of the moment, too ashamed to turn around, too afraid to face the pain he had left behind.

The decision came like a quiet storm.

No more running.

Not from her.Not from his past.Not from himself.

With a deep breath, Dhruv turned around.

His eyes met Maya's for the first time in five years.

The emotions in her gaze were unreadable—anger, sadness, relief? He couldn't tell.

But she didn't turn away.

And neither did he.

He took a step forward, his heart hammering inside his chest. "Can we talk? Privately?"

Maya didn't reply at first.

For a moment, he thought she would refuse—walk away and leave him to his regrets.

But then, after what felt like a lifetime, she gave a small nod. "Fine."

They didn't say another word as they walked.

Up the stairs.Through the empty halls.Until they reached the rooftop.

The wedding noise below became a distant hum, drowned out by the weight of unspoken words between them.

The wind was cold. The city lights stretched far beyond them, flickering like forgotten memories.

Dhruv's throat was dry.

Now that they were here, he didn't know where to begin.

The fear returned, gripping his chest like an iron vice.

What if she doesn't forgive me?What if I make it worse?What if… I don't deserve to be here?

His fingers curled into fists. He was going to mess this up.

And then—a vision appeared before him.

It was… himself.

A little boy. Fourteen years old.

Standing barefoot, wearing an old, oversized T-shirt, staring up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

The child tilted his head. "I'm not a coward, right?"

Dhruv's breath caught in his throat.

That voice.

That question.

It was something he used to whisper to himself at night, curled under his grandmother's blanket, terrified of the dark.

"I'm not a coward, right?"

But now, looking at that child—at himself—he knew the answer.

The truth really is that, I was a coward, I was always a coward .

For five years atleast , I was one.

I ran. I hid. I left the people who loved you behind because you were too scared to face them.

But not anymore.

A strange warmth filled his chest. For the first time in years, he smiled.

Not out of joy.

Not out of relief.

But because, for the first time in five years, he had finally stopped running.

His knees gave out beneath him.

He dropped to the ground.

His hands trembled as they clenched into fists on his thighs, his head hanging low.

The first sob escaped before he could stop it.

His shoulders shook, his breath ragged, his vision blurred with hot, stinging tears.

"I'm sorry."

His voice cracked. It barely came out as a whisper.

But it was everything.

Everything he had wanted to say for five years.

The words felt like they were tearing him apart from the inside, breaking open wounds he had buried deep.

Tears dripped onto the cold concrete beneath him.

He didn't expect her to forgive him. He didn't expect anything at all.

But at least, he had finally said it....

 -TO BE CONTINUED