Falling Destiny

Episode 20 – "The Silence Before the Thud"

(Third Person POV)

The sky was darker than usual that evening in Delhi—thick clouds drifting low, bruised with shades of gray and violet. The city lights blinked beneath them, scattered jewels in the chaos of a restless capital. But no matter how much the streets bustled—horns blaring, vendors calling, rickshaws rattling—the night carried a strange heaviness.

Almost as if somewhere, hidden beneath the noise of traffic and life, a heart had forgotten how to beat.

On the edge of the city, a car cut through the highway like a ghost. Its headlights swayed unsteady, the rhythm uneven. Behind the wheel sat a boy who once lit up every room he walked into, who laughed with his whole body, who made the world lighter just by existing.

Now, he was just a shadow.

Sanchit’s hands trembled against the steering wheel. His knuckles were white, his palms clammy. His eyes—bloodshot, swollen from tears. His breath came shallow, like he was gasping for something that wasn’t there anymore.

His phone buzzed on the passenger seat, vibrating again and again with desperate persistence. But he didn’t care. He didn’t even look at it.

Because in his head, only one voice echoed.

One word.

“No.”

The word that had burned itself into his veins.

The word that tore his universe into pieces too sharp to pick up.

Disha had said no.

And with that, everything he had built, everything he had dreamt, everything he had rehearsed down to the smallest detail… collapsed.

-----

(Sanchit’s POV)

I don’t even remember when I started driving.

One moment, I was standing on that terrace with a rose in my hand and the ring box burning a hole in my palm. The next, I was running. Away from the lights, away from the petals, away from her eyes that couldn’t meet mine.

I drove.

Through streets I didn’t recognize. Through a city that suddenly felt too small. Through tears that blurred the road until it was just streaks of color.

My chest feels… hollow. Like someone scooped everything out of me and left only this ache behind.

I keep replaying it—over and over.

That moment.

That pause.

The way her lips trembled before she whispered:

“I’m sorry, Sanchit.”

Sorry.

The word burns.

What do you even do with sorry when your whole world is crashing?

Sorry isn’t love. Sorry isn’t forever. Sorry isn’t the fairy tale I pictured a thousand times when I closed my eyes at night.

Sorry is an ending.

I wasn’t ready.

I wasn’t ready to lose her. Not like this. Not when I gave her everything I had left inside me.

And now all that’s left is this pain.

Why?

Why wasn’t I enough?

I press harder on the accelerator. The car jerks forward, the engine growling in protest. But I don’t care. I don’t even know where I’m headed. I just want to escape—escape this suffocating silence in my chest, this echo of her voice.

The phone rings again. The screen lights up.

Veer.

For a moment, I think of ignoring it like the rest. But my fingers move before I can stop them. I swipe.

----

(Veer’s POV)

When the call finally connects, I don’t hear his voice.

I hear something worse.

Crying.

Not the quiet kind. Not the kind you can hide with a laugh.

This was raw, broken, jagged sobs tearing through the speaker. It makes my heart stop, my throat tighten.

“Sanchit?” My voice is sharp with alarm. “Sanchit, where are you?”

No answer.

Just more crying.

And then, between the choked breaths, I hear him whisper—no, not whisper, bleed—

“She said no… Veer… she said no. I love her so much… and she said no…”

I feel the air leave my lungs. My hand shakes around the phone. I press it tighter to my ear as if that could pull him back, anchor him.

I knew he was hurting. Of course I did. But this…

This is him unraveling.

“Listen to me,” I force my voice steady, even though panic claws at me. “Just tell me where you are. I’ll come get you, okay? We’ll talk, we’ll fix this. Just—don’t do anything stupid. Please. Please, bhai—”

But he isn’t listening.

He just keeps repeating her name, broken syllables between sobs, like if he says it enough times she’ll appear beside him.

And then—

"THUD."

(Third Person POV)

The sound ripped through the call.

Metal crunching.

Glass shattering.

Rubber screeching against asphalt.

Then—a scream. Someone distant. Someone outside.

And then—

Silence.

Cold, merciless silence.

The line went dead.

Veer froze. His phone slipped from his hand, clattering onto the floor. His knees gave out, his chest clenching so hard it felt like his ribs would snap.

He couldn’t breathe.

Couldn’t move.

All he could hear was the echo of that last broken voice in his ear—

“She said no…”

And the crash that might have been the last sound his best friend ever made.

The Highway

Far from Veer’s Mansion, Sanchit’s car lay in ruins against the side of the highway. Twisted metal. A spiderweb of shattered glass. Smoke rising into the night sky like a prayer no one was listening to.

The truck driver stood frozen a few feet away, his hands on his head, his shouts drawing a small crowd.

Someone dialed for help.

Someone screamed for an ambulance.

Someone covered their mouth in horror.

And inside the wreck, unmoving, was the boy who once made the world lighter.

The boy who loved too much.

The boy who might not survive to love again.

(Veer’s POV)

I don’t remember grabbing my keys. I don’t remember running down the stairs.

All I know is that I was suddenly in my car, my hands shaking as I started the engine.

And I drove like a man possessed. Faster than I’ve ever driven in my life. Red lights blurred. Horns blared behind me. None of it mattered.

Because somewhere on the edge of this city—my brother, my best friend—was fighting for his life.

And all I could hear, over and over, was his broken voice:

“She said no…”

Over and over.

Until it wasn’t just his voice anymore.

It was mine too.