"You know he left, right?" the nurse whispered as Dhwani signed the morning roster.

Dhwani paused, pen mid-air. "Who?"

"Dr. Malhotra. Flight to London. Early morning." The girl gave her a knowing look before turning back to her papers.

Dhwani stood frozen for a second. Her heart didn't race - not this time - but something inside her chest shifted. Darsh was gone. Just like that.

She had told herself she didn't care anymore. That she needed to breathe. That whatever that was - between them - wasn't supposed to happen.

But now, the silence felt strange. The corridor felt too big.

"Good," she muttered to herself. "Great."

---

The cafeteria was buzzing by noon. Dhwani sat with her half-eaten sandwich when Diya dropped into the chair opposite hers, dramatic as ever.

"I'm officially kidnapping you. Today. Right now."

Dhwani blinked. "What?"

"No work. No sulking. We're going out."

"I wasn't sulking."

Diya rolled her eyes. "You were. Your face screams 'my mortal enemy has left but I secretly miss him.'"

Dhwani scoffed. "He's not my mortal enemy."

"Then what is he? Your villain crush?"

"I hate you."

"You love me. Now let's go."

Before Dhwani could protest again, Varun walked in with a coffee mug in hand. "What's happening?"

"She's kidnapping me," Dhwani said.

"Can I come too?" he grinned.

Diya tilted her head, studying him. "You're the famous Varun?"

"And you're the firecracker," he replied with a smile.

Dhwani groaned. "Great. Now you two are flirting. I feel old."

---

They ended up walking through narrow city streets filled with shops, the afternoon sunlight melting over the skyline. Diya grabbed Dhwani's hand and twirled her around outside a boutique.

"Try this!" she said, holding up a green scarf.

Dhwani wrinkled her nose. "Too bright."

"That's the point! You've been wearing dark shades like you're mourning a lost love."

Dhwani opened her mouth to argue, but Varun leaned in and said, "She has a point."

She threw the scarf at him.

They laughed, poked fun at each other, and teased Varun every time he tried to skip a store. When Diya tried on oversized sunglasses and walked out saying, "Call me Hollywood," both Varun and Dhwani lost it.

They had chai from a roadside stall. Diya made Dhwani try candyfloss for the first time in years. They even played a claw machine game at a small arcade where Varun won a stuffed panda and gave it to Diya with a mock bow.

By evening, they were sprawled on the park grass under the dusky sky. Dhwani lay back, watching the clouds shift.

"This was nice," she admitted softly.

Diya turned to her. "You needed this."

Varun sat cross-legged beside them. "I'm just glad I was invited."

"You weren't," Dhwani said dryly.

"You like me too much to admit that."

"Ugh," she groaned, throwing a leaf at him.

Then, in a sudden moment of softness, Diya turned serious. "You know, Darsh would kill me if he knew I let another man entertain his precious Dhwani."

Dhwani looked at her, a sharpness in her gaze. "Don't."

"But-"

"Don't talk about him right now. Not today."

Diya backed off, raising her hands. "Okay. No big brother talk."

Varun caught the weight of the moment but didn't press. He just sat there, quietly, his shoulder brushing Dhwani's.

---

Meanwhile, in London.

Darsh had thrown his tie across the room.

He was standing in the middle of his suite - expensive, glossy, elegant - but his reflection in the mirror looked like a storm.

He'd buried himself in meetings all day. Told himself that the distance would clear his mind. Told himself that running was a solution.

It wasn't.

Because no matter how many presentations he stared at, her face kept flashing in front of him.

That night. Her trembling voice. Her eyes that spoke more than her words. Her stubbornness. Her defiance. Her scent. Her goddamn silence.

He walked over to the bar and poured himself a glass. But it didn't help.

His phone buzzed.

Diya: "Out with Dhwani and a friend. It was cute. Thought I'd update you. She's laughing a lot today."

He stared at the screen.

Laughing?

With someone else?

He didn't reply.

Instead, he threw the phone on the bed, grabbed the glass, and walked to the window.

The city lights below sparkled like distant stars. But all he could see was her.

Dhwani.

He clenched his jaw.

He hated this. Hated not being there. Hated the idea that someone else could make her laugh like that.

And most of all - he hated how much he wanted her.

How deeply, violently, painfully he needed her.

He was losing control - and it was her fault.

The glass in his hand cracked slightly from the force of his grip.

She was the calm and the chaos. And she didn't even know it.

---