The truth Kabir had just spilled didn't put out the fire of my anger; it just turned it into a heavy, suffocating smoke. Silence stretched between us, thick and uncomfortable.
"So you decided for both of us?" I asked, leaning over the table. My voice wasn't screaming anymore; it was cracking. "You decided I was too weak to handle your reality. You decided that 'we' were a burden you couldn't carry. Kabir, in love, you fight together, and you lose together. You didn't even give me the chance to lose with you."
Kabir bowed his head. His hands were still gripping the coffee cup so hard his knuckles were white, as if the ceramic was the only thing keeping him from falling apart. "I was terrified, Aria. I watched my father lose everything—his pride, our home, my mother’s smile. I didn't want to drag you into that black hole."
"The black hole started the day you went silent," I whispered, grabbing my bag. The rain outside had finally slowed to a drizzle, leaving the streets reflected in dark, muddy puddles. "Now you’re back, successful and polished. Do you really think a secret and a 'sorry' fixes five years of ghosting?"
He stood up abruptly, stepping into my path as I tried to leave. "No, I know nothing is fixed. I’m not asking for forgiveness yet. I’m just asking for a chance. Not to prove I’m successful, but to prove that this time, I won’t run. Not even if the world ends."
I looked into his eyes. The old Kabir was still in there, but the youthful spark had been replaced by a haunted desperation. I took a deep breath, the scent of his sandalwood cologne making my heart ache. "One chance, Kabir? I’m giving you a path. If you want 'us' back, you have to start exactly where you left off—without the pride, without the lies, and without the shields."
I walked out of the café without looking back, but I could feel his gaze on my shoulders. I knew then that moving forward was going to be just as hard as going back.