Fan Creations
CHAPTER 4
Caught in the Crossfire of Love
Arman lay on the cold floor, his body shaking uncontrollably, tears flooding his eyes. His breath came in ragged gasps, his chest heaving with the weight of unbearable sorrow. "Abhira...Abhira...sorry..." His voice was barely a whisper, broken and fragile. The words seemed to choke him, as if each syllable physically hurt. His once fiery, red eyes were now dull, hollow, endlessly searching the empty room for the one person who had filled his life with light. “What… will… I… do… my silly girl… without you, Abhira?” His voice cracked with every word, his heart pleading for an answer that would never come.
The overwhelming truth hit him like a sledgehammer. She was gone. His world, his love, his life had just walked out, maybe forever. And the cruelest part of it all—he was the reason. He had pushed her to this. His actions, his anger, had shattered their love.
His mind was lost, spiraling in a storm of guilt and fear. He couldn’t stop the tears, couldn’t stop the pain. He sat there, broken, his hands clutching his head as if trying to hold the pieces of himself together. But everything was unraveling, slipping away from him. All he could do was sit there and whisper her name, over and over, like a prayer to the universe to bring her back.
“Abhira...Abhira...come back...please...don’t leave me…”
Suddenly, a voice cut through his torment like a blade.
“Arman!” Dadi sa’s voice echoed angrily through the house, her tone sharp and filled with rage. "Arman, where are you?! Come down right now!"
Her voice jarred him, snapping him out of the deep abyss he had been sinking into. Arman blinked, trying to process the world around him, but everything felt distant, unreal. He tried to stand, his legs shaking violently beneath him, but his body was too weak, too drained. His legs buckled, and he fell back to the floor, his arms clutching the table for support. His body felt like a shell, as if his soul had been ripped away, leaving him hollow.
“Arman!” Dadi sa’s voice came again, sharper, angrier this time. “Come down, right now!”
Gathering whatever strength he had left, Arman gripped the edge of the table and forced himself to stand. His legs trembled, but he stumbled forward, clutching the walls for support. Each step felt like he was dragging a thousand-pound weight behind him, his heart still pounding with anxiety. His mind was numb, but something about Dadi sa's voice was pulling him toward reality.
Finally, he reached the door and stepped out of his room, his eyes still blurred from crying. As he walked down the stairs, something made him pause. He blinked, rubbing his eyes, unsure if he was hallucinating. His breath caught in his throat. There, standing in the main hall, in front of his family—was Abhira.
For a moment, Arman thought it was a cruel dream, his mind playing tricks on him in his grief. But no—she was there. She was really there.
"Abhira...?" His voice was a breathless whisper, disbelieving, like he was afraid saying her name would make her vanish. His heart stopped, then kicked into overdrive as realization dawned on him.
Without a second thought, he ran. Faster than he ever had before. It felt like his body had suddenly been resurrected, the life surging back into him with each step. His feet flew down the stairs, skipping three or four steps at a time. His heart, which had been suffocating moments ago, was now pounding with hope, with desperation. He ran faster, faster—his mind consumed with one thought: She hadn’t left. She was here. She was still here.
As he reached her, he didn’t hesitate for even a second. He threw his arms around her, pulling her into the tightest hug, holding her like she was the only thing keeping him alive. His hands gripped her as if he was afraid she would disappear again, his breath coming in gasps, his heart racing.
“You didn’t leave…” he whispered, his voice shaking with relief. “You didn’t leave me, Abhira... I thought… I thought I lost you… I was so scared… Please… don’t ever leave…”
His words came out in a rush, tears streaming down his face as he buried his face in her hair, inhaling her familiar scent. His heart, which had been shattered into pieces, was slowly stitching itself back together. He held her tighter, as if he could pour all of his regret, all of his love into that one embrace.
“I can’t live without you, Abhira,” he whispered, his voice cracking. "I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… I need you. Please don’t leave me again."
His chest heaved as he clung to her, his world spinning with the rush of emotions—fear, love, relief, regret—all tangled together in a storm that was too overwhelming to bear. But in that moment, the only thing that mattered was that she was there, in his arms, and he wasn't going to let go. Not now. Not ever.
Arman clung to Abhira, his arms wrapped tightly around her, as if holding her would somehow make everything right. His voice trembled as he repeated, “Don’t leave me… don’t leave me ever…” But no matter how tightly he held her, something felt off. Abhira stood still, her body unmoving in his embrace, and it was then that he realized—she wasn’t reciprocating. She wasn’t holding him back.
Just then, Dadi sa’s sharp voice echoed through the hall once more, cutting through the moment like a blade.
“Who is leaving whom, Arman?”
Arman’s eyes shot open, wide and filled with dread. Reality crashed back in, his heart pounding in his chest as he suddenly remembered where he was. He was in front of his entire family. The truth weighed heavily on his chest, begging to be confessed, but before he could gather the courage to say anything, Abhira gently pushed him away, stepping out of his arms.
She stood there, facing the questioning eyes of the family, her heart racing. She took a breath, her voice calm but laced with an unspoken weight. “Actually, it’s like…” she hesitated, her tone faltering as she glanced at Arman, uncertain of how much to reveal.
Dadi sa wasn’t in the mood for games. “Oo hoo, ‘like what’? I don’t want to hear ‘like’—I want the truth! What happened between you two? Arman, tell me!” Her tone was demanding, leaving no room for excuses.
Arman opened his mouth, his throat tight as he prepared to spill everything, to confess the mistakes that had driven Abhira away. But before he could utter a word, Abhira interrupted, stepping in with quick, calculated grace.
Dadi sa, I’m leaving,” Abhira said, her voice barely steady as she fought to keep her emotions in check. “I didn’t tell Arman, and that’s why he panicked. He didn’t know where I’d gone.”
Dadi sa’s eyes narrowed, her tone sharp and probing. “Do you take us for fools, dear? You, who never misses a chance to tell him every tiny, trivial thing—suddenly forgets to mention she’s leaving for work? And Arman,” she turned her gaze to him, “what about you? Couldn’t you have called her, messaged her? What’s with all this crying and panic? Now, tell me clearly—what really happened?”
Arman opened his mouth, the truth hanging in the air between them, but before he could say a word, Abhira quickly jumped in. Her voice, forced into its usual cheerful tone, tried to mask the chaos inside her. She couldn’t let this conversation dig too deep, not in front of the family.
“Ohooo, Dadi sa!” she laughed lightly, though the sound felt hollow, even to her own ears. “It’s nothing. We had a silly argument last night, and I jokingly said I’d leave him. Then, this morning, work came up out of nowhere."
While saying , Her gaze flickered to Arman, their eyes locking for a brief, heart-wrenching moment. His pain was as raw and real as hers.
"Maybe he thought I really left because his actions deeply hurt me… like I had no choice but to go," her voice echoed softly, trembling under the weight of unspoken grief.
In that fleeting glance, everything was laid bare—their unhealed wounds, the pain they had kept hidden for too long. Her voice faltered, betraying the hurt she had been suppressing, and the room felt heavier with the burden of their emotions. Both of them were standing on the edge, teetering between the past that haunted them and the present that offered no escape.
But before the silence could stretch further, Abhira quickly pulled herself together, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“And that’s all there is to it, Dadi sa,” Abhira added with a strained smile, hoping to end the conversation there. Her attempt at cheerfulness barely masked the turmoil inside her.
She turned to Arman, placing a gentle hand on his arm, her voice soft yet pleading as she tried to make light of it all.
Arman, you’re so silly!" Abhira said, her voice carrying a mix of taunt and emotion. "You never thought of hurting me, so why would I leave you?" The slight edge in her tone hinted at the pain she was still harboring, even as she tried to brush it off.
Arman’s gaze remained fixed on her, his eyes full of guilt, silently pleading for forgiveness. He stepped forward, trying to reach out, the weight of his regret visible in every movement. Abhira, sensing his intention to apologize, quickly cut him off before he could speak.
"Stop being silly," she said, her voice softening, yet still holding back her own vulnerability. "Just know I’m leaving for Mussoorie for some resort work, okay?"
She was trying to protect him, trying to protect them all. But before she could finish, Dadi sa’s sharp voice interrupted once again.
“No one is going anywhere alone!” Dadi sa declared, her voice stern and unyielding.
Abhira froze, her eyes widening in shock. She couldn’t stay here, not under the same roof as Arman, not after everything that had happened. But she couldn’t tell the family the truth either. Her heart ached, torn between protecting their happiness and her own need to escape.
Dadi sa continued, her voice firm. “Do you not remember what happened the last time you two went to Mussoorie? And now you want to go alone, even though that Yuvraj is still out there?”
Abhira's heart raced. "But Dadi sa, I need to go. It’s urgent. Please… you already gave me permission, and now you're changing your mind?” Her voice wavered, torn between frustration and desperation.
“I allowed it because I thought Arman would be with you! But he didn’t even know you were going. What kind of wife leaves without telling her husband? And what kind of husband lets his wife leave alone?” Dadi sa’s voice was thick with disapproval, her gaze shifting to Arman.
Arman flinched under her words, a familiar guilt gnawing at him. He knew she didn’t understand the true depth of what had happened between him and Abhira, but her words cut deeper than she realized. His mistakes, the ones that had pushed Abhira to the brink, were what haunted him. And now, they were being thrown in his face.
Abhira and Arman exchanged a glance—an unspoken conversation passed between them. Both knew the truth, both knew the pain they were carrying, but neither could speak it aloud.
Dadi sa’s voice broke the silence once again, this time with a finality that left no room for argument. “Arman, go pack your bags. You’ll go with your wife. If she’s going, you’re going with her. No more discussion.”
Abhira’s heart sank. She opened her mouth to protest, to explain that Arman couldn’t come, that he had work and responsibilities, but the words died in her throat. She was trapped. Dadi sa’s mind was made up, and there was no convincing her otherwise.
“You both go together, or neither of you go at all,” Dadi sa announced, her voice firm and resolute.
Abhira stood there, helpless, her mind racing. She had been trying so hard to get away, to put distance between herself and Arman, but now, Dadi sa had tied them together once more. It felt like the universe was playing a cruel joke on her.
“Arman, what are you waiting for?” Dadi sa snapped. “Shall I pack your bags for you?”
Arman, numb and hollow, nodded silently and made his way upstairs. A faint glimmer of hope stirred within him. Was this a second chance? Was the universe giving him an opportunity to make things right? Or was it just another twist of fate, drawing him deeper into a situation he didn’t know how to handle?
As he climbed the stairs, his heart felt heavy yet faintly hopeful. Maybe, just maybe, this trip to Mussoorie would be a chance to fix everything. He couldn't lose her—not again. Not when his heart still beat for her.
Meanwhile, Abhira stood frozen, her mind spinning. She felt trapped, cornered. All she wanted was space—time to heal, time to figure out what to do next. But now, it seemed that time was slipping away from her, and Arman was being thrust back into her life, right when she was trying to run from it.
Thank you all so much for the overwhelming love! Honestly, your heartfelt comments are the only reason this self-proclaimed lazy person is even typing right now 😅. Believe me, I’m usually way too lazy to function, but your encouragement gave me the energy boost I needed to get this part out so quickly!
Each comment feels like a shot of inspiration, and though I might not always get the chance to reply (thanks to my crazy schedule 🥲), I read every single one of them. Your feedback truly keeps me going!
So, that's it for this part! Now tell me—would you like to dive into the Mussoorie chapter and see Arman’s attempts at apologizing? Or should I wrap it up here? Let me know what you think!
Please write about the Mussoorie bit where they get time to be alone, talk things through.
Abhira so sorry for her, she wants peace and distance from him. 
Wished she gets it, but he wil talk her over with his fake apologies / promises. 
This was absolutely brilliant. I would love to see how Armaan makes it up to Abhira and how she comes to forgive him, if you'd be inclined to write more!
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