Before You Forget Me

The night she let him go

—

“Theek hai…”

Her voice was barely a whisper.

“I’ll do it.”

—

Those four words—

ended everything.

Even before she realized it.

—

Days passed.

But something had already changed.

—

She stopped calling him.

Stopped meeting him.

Stopped being herself with him.

—

Parth noticed.

Of course he did.

—

“Tu usse mil kyun nahi rahi?” Arbaaz asked one evening.

Parth leaned against his bike.

Jaw tight.

“She’s busy.”

—

“Ya phir kuch chhupa rahi hai,” Nikhil said quietly.

—

Parth didn’t reply.

Because deep down—

he felt it too.

—

Something was wrong.

—

That night—

he called her.

Once.

Twice.

Ten times.

—

No answer.

—

Finally—

she picked up.

“Hello…”

Her voice felt distant.

—

“Ivara, what’s going on?” he asked directly.

—

“Nothing.”

—

That word.

Simple.

But empty.

—

“You’re avoiding me.”

—

“I’m just busy.”

—

“Don’t lie to me.”

His voice softened.

Almost pleading.

“Please…”

—

Silence.

—

“Ivara…” he whispered.

“Talk to me.”

—

Her breath trembled.

Because she wanted to.

More than anything.

—

But then—

her father’s face.

Her family.

—

And she closed herself again.

—

“We need to stop.”

—

Silence.

Complete.

—

Parth didn’t move.

Didn’t breathe.

—

“What…?”

—

“We can’t do this anymore,” she said.

Her voice shaking now.

—

“No.”

He said it instantly.

Firm.

“That’s not happening.”

—

“It has to.”

—

“Why?”

His voice broke.

“Give me one reason.”

—

She couldn’t.

Because the truth—

wasn’t hers to tell.

—

“Just trust me,” she whispered.

—

He laughed.

Hollow.

“Trust you?”

A pause.

“When you’re not even telling me what’s wrong?”

—

Jaipur.

The storm had already begun.

But no one knew—

it was about to destroy everything.

—

“Ivara, kal milna hai,” Parth’s message flashed on her phone.

She stared at it.

Long.

Silent.

Because this time—

it wasn’t simple.

Nothing was.

—

Her fingers typed slowly—

“Haan.”

—

That night—

she didn’t sleep.

Not even for a moment.

Her father’s words.

Her family.

That decision.

Everything kept repeating.

—

“Main kar loongi…”

Her own voice echoed in her mind.

And with it—

something inside her broke.

—

Next evening—

rain started falling.

Soft at first.

Then heavier.

Like the sky knew what was coming.

—

Ivara stood there.

At the same place.

The same road.

The same spot—

where everything had once felt right.

—

A bike stopped.

Parth.

—

He removed his helmet.

Smiled slightly.

“Missed me?”

She didn’t smile.

Didn’t move.

—

His expression changed.

“Hey… what happened?”

—

Silence.

—

“Ivara?” he stepped closer.

Concern in his eyes.

—

She looked at him.

And for a second—

everything came rushing back.

Four years.

Every moment.

Every promise.

—

But then—

her father’s face.

Her family.

—

She looked away.

“We need to talk.”

—

Those four words.

—

Parth froze.

Because he knew.

Nothing good ever starts like that.

—

“Okay…” he said slowly.

“Bol.”

—

Rain grew heavier.

—

“I can’t do this anymore.”

—

The words came out.

Cold.

Sharp.

Unfamiliar.

—

Parth didn’t react immediately.

Because his mind—

refused to understand.

“What?”

—

“I’m done,” she said.

Her voice shaking slightly.

But controlled.

—

“With what?” he asked.

—

“With us.”

—

Silence.

—

The rain fell harder.

But somehow—

it still wasn’t louder than that moment.

—

Parth stared at her.

Trying to read her.

Trying to understand.

—

“Stop joking,” he said softly.

—

“I’m not joking.”

—

A pause.

—

“Then what is this?” his voice dropped.

—

She swallowed hard.

“I don’t love you anymore.”

—

That was it.

—

That one line.

—

Everything shattered.

—

Parth stepped back slightly.

Like the words had physically hit him.

—

“No…” he whispered.

“You don’t mean that.”

—

“I do.”

—

She didn’t look at him.

Because if she did—

she would break.

—

“Look at me and say it,” he said.

His voice breaking now.

—

Slowly—

she looked up.

Into his eyes.

—

The same eyes—

that once felt like home.

—

“I don’t love you anymore.”

—

A tear slipped down.

But she didn’t wipe it.

—

Parth laughed.

A hollow.

Broken laugh.

—

“Four years, Ivara…”

He shook his head.

“Four years… aur bas aise?”

—

She stayed silent.

Because truth—

wasn’t simple.

—

“Tell me the real reason,” he said.

His voice sharper now.

—

There it was.

The moment.

—

She could tell him.

She could explain everything.

Fight for him.

—

But then—

fear.

Her family.

That pressure.

—

And she chose—

silence.

—

“There is no reason,” she said.

“I just… don’t feel the same.”

—

That lie—

hurt more than truth ever could.

—

Parth’s eyes changed.

Completely.

—

“Wow,” he whispered.

“Bas itna hi tha?”

—

“I’m getting engaged.”

—

The words slipped out.

—

And this time—

it destroyed him.

—

“To who?” his voice dropped.

—

“Pearl Singhania.”

—

Silence.

—

The rain.

The storm.

Everything blurred.

—

Parth’s fists clenched.

His jaw tightened.

—

“So that’s it?” he said slowly.

“You replaced me?”

—

“It’s not like that—”

—

“Then what is it?!” he snapped.

His voice louder now.

Breaking.

—

“Ivara…”

A pause.

His voice softer.

Desperate.

“Tell me this isn’t how it ends.”

—

Her heart screamed.

But her lips didn’t move.

—

“I’m sorry.”

—

That was it.

—

That was the end.

—

Parth closed his eyes.

For a second.

—

And when he opened them—

something had changed.

—

Completely.

—

“I would’ve fought for you,” he said.

Quiet.

Steady.

—

A pause.

—

“But you didn’t.”

—

Her tears fell faster now.

—

“And that’s the difference.”

—

He stepped back.

Slowly.

—

“Ivara…”

He looked at her one last time.

—

And this time—

his eyes weren’t full of love.

—

They were empty.

—

“No matter what happens now…”

A pause.

—

“…don’t come back.”

—

He turned.

Walked away.

—

And didn’t look back.

—

Ivara stood there.

Frozen.

Broken.

—

Because for the first time—

she realized—

—

she didn’t lose him.

—

She let him go.

—

And that night—

—

it didn’t just rain.

It ended a love story.