Falling Destiny

Episode 16: "Like a Dream… Until It Wasn’t"

(Neha’s POV)

I don’t know why I was this nervous.

It wasn’t even my moment. It wasn’t my love story. Yet my palms were clammy, my stomach tied itself into restless knots, and my heart… my heart was pounding louder than ever.

Maybe it was because this wasn’t just another evening. This was a turning point. A night where two people who had stumbled into love in the most unexpected way were about to take the biggest step of their lives.

And me?

I wasn’t just a bystander. I was their secret ally, the invisible hand guiding fate along. The hopeless romantic sidekick, playing Cupid with fairy lights and flowers instead of a bow and arrow.

I had it all planned out. The lavender dress, the petals, the music that would cue at just the right moment, even the fake injury call that would lure her to the terrace. Everything had to go exactly right. Sanchit trusted me. Disha deserved magic. And I—I needed this happy ending for them.

But of course, life loves to make things difficult.

Disha was acting a little too curious today.

She eyed me with suspicion when I handed her the dress. “Why are you giving me this?”

I forced a grin, trying to sound casual. “Because I bought it for myself, but honestly, it’ll look way better on you.”

Her brows arched. “And since when do you just give me new clothes without a reason?”

“Since today,” I said quickly, almost pushing her toward the room. “Now go get ready.”

She gave me one of those long, searching looks that made me feel like she could see right through me. But before she could ask another question, I clapped my hands together dramatically. “Oh, I just remembered—I have a call. Super urgent.”

And I slipped out of the room.

The truth?

The “urgent call” had already happened.

To her.

Pretending.

I had pressed my phone close to my ear and let my voice break, trembling with fake panic. “Disha, please come… terrace… I fell, I twisted my ankle…” My chest had burned, my eyes had actually welled up, because the lie had to sound real. And it did. Even I almost believed it.

I hated lying to her. I hated tricking her like this. But sometimes, lies are the stepping stones to miracles. And this lie… this one was woven with love.

When I reached the backstairs, my breath caught in my throat.

The terrace door opened. And there she was.

For a second, even the sky seemed to pause.

Disha stepped in, the lavender dress hugging her frame like it was designed just for her. Her hair fell softly around her shoulders, her eyes wide in confusion. She looked like a dream someone had whispered into existence.

And then—like magic—the fairy lights flickered alive, cascading in waves across the terrace. The soft music began to play, its melody rising like a heartbeat. And thousands of petals floated down from above, drifting through the air like pink and white raindrops.

And at the center of it all… he stood.

Sanchit.

Nervous. Smiling. Hopeful. His eyes locked on her as though nothing else in the world mattered.

I held my breath.

This was it.

This was the moment love wins.

Or so I believed.

---

(Sanchit’s POV)

I have never been this terrified in my entire life.

Not during my first boxing match, when my opponent towered over me like a mountain ready to crush me. Not during the time I had to stand in front of my father and admit I wanted to pursue my own path. Not even when I had once been inches away from losing everything I worked for.

But today—tonight—my fear was different.

It wasn’t about losing a match. It wasn’t about failure in the ring. It was about her.

Disha.

Because tonight, I was placing my entire heart in her hands.

And God, my body betrayed me. My palms were so sweaty I could barely hold the bouquet. My throat was dry as the desert. My chest hammered like a war drum.

For the fifth time, I crouched down to adjust the trail of petals on the floor, making sure they formed the perfect curve leading to the center. For the seventh time, I checked the playlist on my phone. And for what felt like the hundredth time, I straightened my shirt collar, tugged at my sleeves, smoothed my hair, and checked the single rose I had pinned to my pocket.

Everything had to be right.

Because this wasn’t just a proposal. It was my vow.

I had practiced this moment endlessly with Neha. She had teased me, encouraged me, coached me like she was my manager preparing me for the fight of my life. Once, she even said “no” during rehearsal. My knees had nearly given way, my breath stolen in panic. She had laughed until she had tears in her eyes. I hadn’t found it funny at the time. But now, thinking back, it reminded me how fragile this moment really was.

The terrace glowed just as I had imagined it. A little dreamy, a little dramatic. Fairy lights glowing like stars, flowers scattered like blessings, music soft as a promise.

But none of that mattered.

Because she was here now.

The door creaked open, and time… simply stopped.

Disha stepped in, wrapped in lavender, her eyes wide with wonder. She froze, her lips parting, her breath caught. The petals began to fall from above, swirling around her like the universe itself was welcoming her to this moment.

She smiled. God, that smile—it was like watching the sun rise after a storm.

My chest clenched, and suddenly, the nerves melted into something stronger. Love. Certainty.

I stepped forward, my heart roaring in my ears.

“Disha,” I said softly, my voice trembling but true, “I don’t know when it happened. But somewhere between our silly fights and quiet talks, I lost my heart to you. And I don’t ever want it back.”

I bent down on one knee. Opened the tiny velvet box. Held the ring out to her like it was my soul.

“Will you marry me?”

Silence.

The longest silence of my life.

Her eyes filled with something I couldn’t read—shock, fear, pain. Her lips trembled. Her hands shook.

For a brief second, hope still clung to me. Maybe these were tears of joy. Maybe she was overwhelmed. Maybe—

Then she whispered something I couldn’t hear. My ears strained, my heart desperate.

Finally, her words reached me.

“I’m sorry, Sanchit,” she said, her voice breaking, tears spilling down her lashes. “I can’t say yes.”

The world collapsed.

It felt like someone had driven a fist straight into my chest, ripping the air from my lungs. The music kept playing, soft and cruel. The petals kept falling, mockingly gentle. But inside me, something cracked wide open.

I stayed frozen there, on my knee, the ring still trembling in my hand.

And she—my Disha—turned and walked away.

Her lavender dress swayed against the glow of the fairy lights as she disappeared through the door, leaving me kneeling on the cold floor.

Alone.

Ring in hand.

Heart in pieces.