Arohi’s fingers curled tightly around the fabric of his shirt, her knuckles white with tension. Her eyes blazed with a fire that came from years of bottled-up pain and unanswered questions.
“Ishaan!” she shouted, voice trembling with emotion. “You walked away from our marriage because of your bipolar disorder? You got close with Racheal just to push me away? How could you do that? To me… to your son?”
His eyes shimmered with guilt, but he didn’t look away. “Arohi… I only pretended to be close to Racheal,” he said, his voice low but urgent. “There was never anything between us. I only did it because I thought… if you saw me with her, maybe you’d finally leave me. I was spiraling, unstable. I wanted to protect you.”
Arohi shoved at his chest, eyes filling with angry tears. “Shut up, Ishaa
