In a soft voice, Maya inquired, "What are your plans?""
"What now?" Dhruv asked, blinking thoughtfully and with a puzzled expression."
A soft sigh escaped Maya's lips; her eyes quickly glanced at the horizon and then back to him. "You haven't changed a bit," she said, smiling faintly. You're not one to announce that you've arrived. Dhruv, with that in mind, what are you planning to do?"
He remained silent.
Her tone gentler, but still firm, she pressed on, "You can no longer hide... not from your uncle, not from your aunt. It's only a matter of time before they realize you're here. You know how much they—"
Sh…
She stopped mid-sentence, not finishing that thought. The weight of it hung between them. Dhruv looked away again, his jaw tightening slightly. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—fear, maybe... or guilt, wrapped up in hesitation.
The rooftop wind picked up again, brushing strands of Maya's hair across her face. Neither of them spoke for a few seconds.
Then Dhruv muttered under his breath, "...I don't know."
He gave her honest, vulnerable look. I was under the impression that I did. I thought I came here for something. Perhaps, closure. Redemption. But now I'm not sure what to do or where to go."
There was a delay in Maya's response. Empathy and unspoken memories swirled in her gaze as she observed him.
In the distance, a faint sound of wedding music could be heard.
Maya turned her head slightly, looked at Dhruv from the corner of her eye. Softly spoken, her words held considerable weight.
"So what about that idiot… Should I at least tell him about you?"
Dhruv's head snapped toward her.
"No. No—please, don't."
There was urgency in his voice. The kind that came from fear, from knowing what someone's hope could turn into when met with silence. He added, almost pleading,
"He has to know I'm here… but not from you. Not like that."
Maya frowned, not understanding. "Anand has the right to know, Dhruv. He hasn't given up on you. He waited for you. All these years."
Dhruv's lips trembled as he shut his eyes, inhaling through clenched teeth.
"That's exactly why it's a big no, okay?" His voice cracked but he covered it with a crooked laugh. "Don't tell him. Please."
Maya studied his face. The guilt. The fear. The weight of five years on his shoulders. And maybe something else… shame?
Maya leaned back against the railing, the breeze playing with the edge of her dupatta as she looked at Dhruv with a faint smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
"So… what do you wanna do then?" she asked casually, though her voice carried an edge."Don't tell me you won't even attend my wedding, right? Haha…" She laughed lightly, a joke tossed into the wind—maybe to lighten the moment, maybe to shield something else.
Dhruv looked away.
He didn't laugh. He didn't answer.
Just… awkward silence.
Then, after a long second, he gave her a small, nervous smile. The kind that hurt more than comforted. And then he nodded.
A quiet, hesitant nod.
Yes.
Maya's smile faded.
Completely.
The joke that was meant to dance between them suddenly fell heavy to the floor, breaking into pieces.
She stared at him, almost not believing it."You're serious?" she whispered."You'd come all this way... and still you won't show up for me?"
Dhruv's voice was barely a breath.
"I don't know if I can…"
It wasn't anger in her eyes. It wasn't even disappointment.
It was something deeper. A sadness wrapped in understanding—like she had expected this,
The wind didn't move. It hung around them like silence made real—thick, unmoving, almost suffocating. It was the kind of stillness that wrapped around the soul, like time itself was holding its breath.
Maya's voice broke that stillness—but only barely.Soft. Quiet. Heavy.
"Just what happened to you, Dhruv… in those five years?"
There was no anger in her voice. No accusation.Only something deeper. Something sadder.Grief.
"It's like… I'm looking at a whole new person now."
Her words hung in the air like smoke, drifting but impossible to ignore. She wasn't accusing him.She wasn't blaming him.She was mourning him. She looked at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears that now slowly slipped free, trailing silently down her cheeks. "You were always so full of life," she continued. "Always grinning like an idiot, pulling dumb jokes even when we were supposed to be serious. You lit up every single corner of grandma's house every time you walked in."
She paused, and Dhruv could hear the sound of her breath breaking."Now… it's like I don't even recognize you. You're standing right here, but it feels like you're still gone."
Her fingers reached up to her cheek before she realized—she was crying.
One tear had already slipped down, then another, quietly soaking into the side of her face, leaving a trail of pain too deep for words.
"It's just…" she swallowed. "…it's so painful to see you like this, bruh…"
One tear. Then another.
And Dhruv…
Dhruv kept his eyes fixed on the floor.
His shadow stretched in front of him, thin and fragile under the faint rooftop light—like him. Like the person he'd become.
He didn't have it in him to meet her gaze.Because if he did…If he looked into her eyes, he knew—he'd break. He already was.
So he stood there, his hands tucked into the sleeves of his hoodie like a child trying to shrink back into a place of comfort.But there was none.
He wanted to speak.
But he couldn't look at her.
He stared at the floor like it would swallow him if he just focused hard enough. His chest rose and fell with a sigh that felt too heavy for someone his age. He wanted to scream the truth—that he had only eighty-eight days left.That the clock had started ticking the moment he saw that damn god or whatever they called it.....That he didn't come back to rebuild a life—he came back to say goodbye.
But his lips trembled, and all those thoughts—those truths—got stuck somewhere between his lungs and his throat.. He wanted to tell her how every morning he woke up wondering if today would be the day he'd disappear for good.
But what could he say?
How could he break her heart with that truth that was even unbearable for him, too?
So, he held it in.
Even though his insides were folding in on themselves. His lungs felt smaller, just from keeping it buried. Even his voice was breaking from silence.
All he managed to say was the one thing he knew she deserved.
"…Sorry."
He whispered...
"Sorry for everything."
And that was all he could give to her.
She stood there in silence.
For a moment, time bent itself around them. The sounds of the wedding below—laughter, clinking utensils, faint music—muffled into the background, like the world itself had taken a step back to leave just the two of them on that dimly lit rooftop.
Maya's eyes didn't waver. She stared at him—into him.
And what she saw made her heart ache in ways she didn't fully understand.
The moonlight fell gently over Dhruv's face, tracing the outline of his features—sharp now, gaunt from time, wear, and hunger. His skin looked pale beneath that silver glow, like life had quietly drained from him, little by little, over the years. His hair was longer than she remembered. Messier. He looked older, but not just in the way people age… in the way people survive.
Maya stood there quietly, just watching him.
Dhruv wasn't looking at her. He kept his eyes on the ground, but she could see the exhaustion in his face — in the way his shoulders slouched, in how thin he'd become, how pale his skin looked in the moonlight. He looked like someone who hadn't eaten well in weeks, maybe months. Like someone who hadn't rested in years.
But it was his eyes that unsettled her the most. When he finally glanced up, there was something hollow about them. Dark, tired, and distant — like he wasn't fully here. Like his mind was somewhere else, weighed down by something he couldn't speak about.
And yet… behind that tiredness, she saw something else too. A sharpness. A quiet focus. A strange kind of urgency, like he had come back not for peace, but with a purpose. He wasn't here to stay. He wasn't here for comfort.
He was searching. For what, she didn't know. But she could feel it.
Just then, a voice called from below.
"Maya didi! Mom's calling you!" It was her cousin, shouting from the bottom of the stairs.
She turned toward the sound and shouted back, "Coming!" Her voice was steady, but her mind wasn't.
She took a step toward the stairs… then stopped.
Without turning around at first, she said, "I don't know why you came back. And I won't ask."
Then she turned and looked at him again.
"But I know you didn't come for us. Not for uncle and aunty either." Her voice was quiet now. "Whatever your reason is… it's yours. I won't pry."
She paused.
"Just do one thing." A small, almost bitter smile touched her lips. "Eat something from the catering downstairs. At least do that much, okay?"
And with that, she left.
Dhruv sat there for a while, alone on the rooftop.
Something inside him softened. He hadn't realized how much he was carrying until that moment. But as she walked away without demanding answers, without anger or blame — something lifted. Just a little.
And for the first time in a long while, he felt like he could breathe...
"So… did you confess your love or something, dude?"
The sudden voice came from above Dhruv's head, slicing through the silence like a blade.
Startled, Dhruv jerked up, his heart nearly leaping out of his chest. He looked up—only to see a dark figure descending from the sky.
"WHAT THE—" he gasped, tripping over his own feet and landing hard on the rooftop. "Gorgo! You absolute bastard!"
It was Gorgo hovering in the moonlight with leathery black wings, Gorgo landed with a faint thud. His wings retracted and vanished seamlessly into his back as if they were never there. He stretched his neck like someone casually stepping off a train.
"You scared the hell out of me!" Dhruv barked, still catching his breath.
"Good," Gorgo said, straight-faced. "Next time I'll bring a trumpet."
Dhruv groaned and sat back up, brushing dirt from his sleeves. "And no, you idiot. She's not my lover. She was.... my friend"
That last part came out softer. Slower. Gorgo noticed.
He walked over, sat beside Dhruv, and for a few seconds, said nothing. Then, suddenly—his tone shifted. Serious. Heavy.
"Let me ask you something."
Dhruv turned to him, confused by the sudden change.
"Why the f**k are you back here?" Gorgo asked, bluntly.
Dhruv blinked, taken aback. "What... what do you mean?"
Gorgo didn't flinch. His demon eyes gleamed under the moonlight.
"I've lived longer than you, mortal. I've seen thousands pass through Yamalok. Some beg for a second chance. They cry, swear they'll fix their past, redeem their names, love better, live cleaner. And maybe... maybe one out of a hundred means it."He looked straight at Dhruv.
"But you? You're something else. You came back not to fix. Not to heal. You came back like you were ready to burn."
His voice dropped to a quiet murmur.
"You came back like you wanted to suffer."
The rooftop went still.
Dhruv swallowed hard, but couldn't answer.
Gorgo stared for a few more moments… then asked, quietly now:
"Am I wrong tho?"
Gorgo didn't blink. His voice, unusually steady for someone who usually laughed at funerals, cut straight through the air.
"What did they do to you, mortal? What happened back then that made you hate yourself this much?"
Dhruv didn't respond right away. He stood there, staring off into the darkness beyond the rooftop. The silence between them stretched—not tense, not loud. Just… hollow.
Finally, his voice came, low and cold.
"Gorgo, your job is to guide me and learn how humans live now. Not to dig through my past like it's your business."
He didn't even look at him.
"Stick to the plan. I have to find someone. I have to save them. That's all that matters now."
His hands curled into fists at his sides. A beat passed before he added, almost like spitting out the words:
"I'm not here for second chances or redemption speeches. I just want to finish what I came for… and get the hell out of this place."
Gorgo stayed quiet. He just watched Dhruv's back as he turned and started walking.
He didn't say another word.
Dhruv left the rooftop, exited the auditorium through the rear staircase. Past the noise, the lights, the smell of celebration.
He didn't eat anything.
Didn't say goodbye.
Didn't look back.
He just disappeared into the night with Gorgo...
-TO BE CONTINUED