I just reached my hostel after a long and exhausting day. My legs felt like they were made of stone, my head pounded with every step, and my eyelids drooped with the exhaustion. It had been the kind of day that leaves you questioning your entire life — the kind where you want to collapse into bed and forget the world exists.
But that’s life, isn’t it? Some days are good, some are bad, and some are just a complete chaotic mess. Today had been one of those messy ones — a blur of lectures, assignments, chaotic group projects, and a headache that refused to leave my side.
I wasn’t just physically drained; my mind was in turmoil too. My thoughts sprinted, colliding into each other, demanding attention all at once. By the time I reached my room, the sense of relief was overwhelming. My hostel room wasn’t much — chipped walls, a rickety bed, a study table cluttered with lots of books and half-empty coffee mugs — but it was mine. My safe space. The only place where I could breathe without pretending. MY HAPPY PLACE.
I flung my bag to the floor and collapsed onto my bed. Sleep was all I wanted. My body ached for it, my mind craves it all the time. But out of habit, I reached for my phone — and that’s when my heart froze.
BOOM.
Twenty seven messages and five missed calls. All from Virat.
My chest tightened, a cold wave washing over me. How could I even forget this? My fingers started to tremble as I opened the chats.
“ Where the hell are you?”
“Ignoring me now? Wow.”
“Online 20 minutes ago but too busy for me?”
“Don’t test me, Heer.”
“Call me. NOW.”
My phone rang before I could even process. His name flashed on the screen. With a deep breath, I answered.
“Hello?”
“WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?” His voice exploded through the speaker, loud enough to make me flinch.
“I—I’m sorry! My phone was on silent during class, I didn’t see—”
“Spare me the for god's sake! Silent for your boyfriend but not for that Shivaang?” Anger dripped from his every word.
“I saw you, Laughing with him in the corridor like he's your boyfriend.”
“What?” My stomach churned.
“That was for a project! We’re in the same research group. It’s nothing.”
“Nothing? You think I’m a fool? You’ve changed, Heer. Acting all modern and independent, forgetting who loved you first?”
I rubbed my temples, exhaustion pressing heavier than ever. " Tum hamesha mere baare mein aisa kyu sochte ho?" (Why do you always think the worst of me?)
A bitter laugh echoed from his end. “It’s not just that. Look at you — always trying to look pretty for them, huh? Like your brown skin and those long hair make you attractive or something.”
I froze. "W-what?"
“Oh, come on. You think I don’t notice? The way you style your hair before college now? The kajal? The earings?What’s next — whitening cream? Trying to look fair for your little group project boy?”
Tears burned my eyes. “That’s not true, Virat. I love my hairs. I feel confident and happy when I style them. I don’t care about him like that. Why do you keep reminding me that I'm dark?”
“Then why do you bother dressing up? Honestly, it doesn’t even suit you. Brown skin, long hair — not really a winning combination, baby.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I didn’t do it for him.”
“Then who? Me?” His laugh was venomous. “Don’t flatter yourself. If I didn’t loved you, no one wouldn’t have even looked at you twice.”
The air felt like it had been punched from my lungs.
"I'm in my own person."
I sighed, defeated. I knew this script too well. No matter what I said, I will always be ending up as a villian.
It hadn’t always been like this. Virat used to be very sweet. Back then, when his love felt like a gentle breeze, not a suffocating storm. I remember him waiting outside my class, face lighting up the second he saw me. Back then, his love was flowers and handwritten notes. But now, after 8 months of our relationship, it's only accusations and ultimatums.
Why do I feel like I’m being suffocated? Why do I feel like love is pain?
I just want him to love me the way I love him.
“I’ll never hurt you,” he had whispered to me when I said yes. “You’re my world.”
Where did that boy go? Where did that sweetness of his love went?
I sighed knowing i won't get the answers of any one of these.
The next morning, my phone started ringing before my alarm.
Virat: Good morning, baby. I love you. Forget last night. okay? You just made me a little angry. Don’t do it again.
I stared at the message, fingers still above the keyboard. The cycle had restarted again. Sweet apologies masking everything he does.
“Morning.” I replied, my chest heavy with something I didn’t want to name or I don't even know.
“I’m coming near your college today. We’ll meet, right?”
“Virat, I have so many deadlines—”
“Oh, right. Miss Future Doctor,” he scoffed. “Always busy saving the world, aren’t you?”
I swallowed hard. “It’s just my career. You know that.”
“And where will this ‘career’ lead you, huh?” his voice was laced with mockery. “You think you’ll become some big doctor and I’ll still be waiting around for you? Let me tell you the real thing -- no guy wants a girl who spends more time in hospitals than with him.”
I gasped. “What are you even saying? Isn't my carrer important? My passion my dream doens't matter at all?”
“I’m saying, Heer, you’ll never balance this. You’ll either lose me or your career. Pick one.”
Silence hung heavy between us.
“Or do you expect me to marry a girl who prioritizes patients over her own boyfriend?” His voice dripped with venom.
“I’m trying to build a future. I have to work hard for it and you know that how hard it is.”
“Then build it without me.” He smirked. “Because no man likes an overly ambitious girlfriend.”
*
*At the Fort*
He was already there when I arrived — pacing working, jaw clenched and eyes dark with something that wasn’t love.
Guilt started overcoming me. Maybe if I tried harder, if I gave him more reassurance, more attention then this wouldn’t happen. Maybe this was my fault too.
“You’re late,” he said sharply.
“I’m sorry.”
We walked in silence. His fingers brushed mine, but I pulled my hand back. His touch doesn't feel like warmth — it feels like chains.
“You didn’t wear that blue dress I told you to.” His voice was clipped. “Why?”
I hesitated. “I didn’t feel comfortable in it.”
“Because of your scars, isn’t it?” he scoffed. “Oh god, Heer. You’re so insecure sometimes.”
My chest tightened. “I’m not insecure—”
“Yes, you are. Always covering those tiny scars on your arms like they make you less pretty. I mean they do after all they’re not attractive. For sure”
My heart dropped. “Why would you say that?”
“Because it’s the truth. Stop acting like some princess who deserves pity. I'm the only one who tried to see real you behind that ugly marks.”
I blinked back tears, my skin burning under his stare.
“Be grateful, Heer. At least I still find you lovable, despite all of these. But you being overly dramatic! You don't even listen to me.”
I was at the loss of words. I can't speak. I felt like my lips had been sealed and preventing me from speaking anything.
We walked for some time and reached near a small cafe.
The candlelight flickered between us. For a brief moment, I hoped we could find our way back. Back to innocence. Back to love.
But then, his voice shattered the silence. And my hopes too.
“So, tell me about Shivaang.”
“Virat, please. I thought we are here to spend some quality time together. For us!”
“Don’t ‘please’ me! Do you think I’m stupid? I know you like him. Just admit it.”
“I don’t!” My voice cracked.
He let out a dark laugh. “God, your voice. Do you hear yourself when you talk? You stutter like an idiot.”
My stomach dropped. “What?”
“Seriously. You can’t even hold a proper conversation without fumbling over your words.”
I felt anger bubbling inside me. “Stop it.”
“Why should I? It’s true. No wonder you barely have friends — who’d want to hang out with a girl who can’t even talk properly?”
I felt like the walls were closing in.
“And you think you’re fit to become a doctor?” His laughter was cruel. “With that weak voice and zero confidence? Good luck convincing a patient you know what you’re doing.”
I swallowed a sob. “I’m trying—”
“Try harder. Or just give up. Honestly, Heer, you’re not built for it.”
"Don't say like that"
"Leave it.. Let's come to the point!
Your phone was on silent for me but conveniently it was on when Shivaang texts you, right?”
My throat tightened. “It’s not like that—”
“SHUT UP!” His voice cracked like a whip, making me flinch. “You think I’m stupid? I saw you Laughing with him today. You think I’ll just sit here and let you make a fool of me?”
“Virat, please. He was just talking to me. He is a normal friend —”
“And I’m your BOYFRIEND. You’re supposed to prioritize me, not some random guy.”
I blinked back tears. “This isn’t love.”
“What do you know about love? Love is obsession. Sacrifice. Pain. If you’re not willing to bleed for me, what’s the point?”
My breath caught in my throat listening his thoughts. “I need space.”
His laugh was cold. “Space is not meant for my girlfriend.”
I stood up, chair scraping harshly against the floor. “This conversation is over.”
But before I could move, his hand shot out, gripping my wrist painfully. “Sit. Down.”
“Virat, you’re hurting me!” I choked out, trying to pull away.
His grip only tightened. “Good. Maybe pain will remind you who you belong to.”
Tears stung my eyes. “You’re scaring me.”
His laugh was hollow. “You should be scared. I’m all you have, Heer. Don’t forget that.”
*AUTHOR POV*
“Virat, let go.” her voice was barely a whisper.
“Not until you say it.” His eyes were wild, dark with something cruel and hungry.
“Say you’re mine. Say you’ll never look at another guy again.”
“Virat—”
“SAY IT!” His nails dug into her skin, leaving angry red marks.
“I’m yours,” She choked out, the words were cutting her deep down. “I’m only yours.”
The grip loosened, and in the very next second, his face softened. The wildness melted into a smile, gentle and sweet — like nothing had happened.
“See? That wasn’t so hard.” He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his fingers tender now, tracing her cheek. “You look so beautiful when you listen to me.”
Heer swallowed the lump in her throat, her skin crawling under his touch.
“I love you,” he said softly, as if his hands hadn’t just bruised her just now. “Let’s not fight again, okay? I hate fighting with my baby.”
She nodded because she knew that arguing was pointless
*HEER'S POV*
My phone buzzed just past midnight. I frowned in my sleep and opened the message.
Virat: I Can’t sleep without hearing your voice. Call me now.
I stared at the screen, heart sinking. Every night was the same — calls that stretched for hours, even when I was deprived of sleep.
I sighed and called him, pressing the phone to my ear.
“Hi” I whispered.
“There’s my baby,” his voice was syrup-sweet now, dripping with fake warmth. “Are you thinking about me?”
“Of course,” I lied.
“Liar.” The sweetness vanished, voice hardening.
“You’re tired, aren’t you? Too tired for your boyfriend but not too tired to laugh with that bastard Shivaang all day.”
“Virat, please not now—”
“You know what else I noticed today?”
I swallowed hard. “What?”
“You wore that ugly green kurti again. The same one you wear like every week. Are you trying to embarrass me?”
My throat tightened. “It’s comfortable, Virat.”
“It’s outdated. You look like an old lady in that. Honestly, sometimes I wonder why I even date you. Can’t you dress like normal girls for once?”
Shame burned my face. “I’m sorry. I’ll.. try something different.”
“You better.” His voice was cold. “You’re my girlfriend. I don’t want people thinking I’m dating some rural girl who doesn’t know fashion.”
I bit my tongue, feeling the ache of humiliation sink into my skin.
“I asked you to block him. Did you?”
“I—I forgot.”
Silence.
My heart pounded.
Then came the chilling laugh.
“You forgot?” He repeated the words. “Or you just don’t care how much you hurt me.”
“Virat, it’s not like that—”
“Do you even love me? Or are you just keeping me around till someone better comes for you?”
“I love you,” I said quickly, desperate to calm him.
“Prove it.”
“How?”
“Send me your passwords. Instagram. WhatsApp. Email. Everything.”
“Wait. What?Why? You are insane."
"What’s insane is you flirting with guys behind my back. I’m giving you a chance to prove your loyalty. Don’t make me regret it.If you have nothing to hide, you won’t mind.” His voice coated in manipulation. “Unless you have secrets, baby? Do you?”
“No, but—”
“Then send it. Now.”
I know this was wrong. love wasn’t surveillance. But saying no meant war, and i was too tired to fight. Probably at this hour.
I sent it all to him. Maybe it will calm his mind for now and let me sleep.
*
I woke up to dozens of messages.
Virat: Why is your ex still in your followers list?
Why do you like random guys’ posts?
Virat: you were online at 4:27 AM but opened my message at 4:30?
What are these posts? Are you trying to embarrass me?
My head spun as i scrolled through his obsessive rants, each message more stressing than the last.
Before i could reply, my phone rang.
“Explain me. Who are these?”
“Virat, please, it’s just old posts”
“Delete everything. Every photo with a guy. Every comment. Every memory before me. I want them gone. If you really love me, you’ll erase your past. Admit it! I'm the only one who ever cared about you. Without me, you'd be invisible. Mark my words."
Tears burned my eyes. "Stop!"
"I'm just being honest. Don't get too comfortable with these fake friends of yours. They'll drop you the moment you're no longer useful."
I swallowed hard." That's not true."
He smirked. " We'll see."
" That's too insane Virat. How can you say like that?"
“You know what’s insane? Loving someone so much you can’t breathe without them. That’s what you’ve done to me. You made me this way, Heer. So now you fix it. Or I swear to God, I’ll come to your hostel and break that damn phone myself.”
Tears blurred my vision as i began deleting. One memory at a time. One piece of myself at a time which I created with lots of love.
*
I recived a voice note after a hour.
"Good morning, baby. I love you. I’m sorry about last night. You just make me sometimes, you know?"
" Don’t ever do that again, okay? You know I get possessive because I love you too much."
Before I could even reply, another message followed.
“I bought you those earrings you liked. Can’t wait to see you wear them.”
My head was bursting. Which one is real? The one who bruised my wrist? The one who wrote me poems or the one who stalked my friends?
I remembered the day before yesterday, when I missed hi Ses call by accident as my phone was dead. It got switched off. By the time i opened it, there were 18 missed calls and 32 messages.
The last message chilled me to the bone.
Virat: If you ignore me again, I’ll come to your hostel.
I called back immediately , my heart hammering.
“WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU?” His voice shook me to the core.
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