Bunny…"
His voice was different.
Lower.
Unsteady.
"If you've decided to live without me… then I don't want to live anymore."
My chest tightened.
"Don't say that," I whispered.
"I'm serious," he continued.
"I'll cut my veins right now."
Silence.
The word hung in the air like a blade.
Deep down—
I knew.
He wouldn't.
He was dramatic. Impulsive. Manipulative.
He needed attention.
He needed control.
But knowing something and resisting it are two different things.
"What are you doing?" I cried.
"I'm done, Ashriti," he said.
"If you leave me, what's the point?"
The guilt flooded instantly.
This is my fault. I blocked him. I pushed him.
"No, no, don't do anything stupid," I said, my voice breaking.
"You think I'm joking?" he snapped.
"I have nothing without you."
That line.
That exact line.
How many times had he said that?
How many times had I believed it?
"You're everything," he whispered.
"And if you walk away, I swear—"
"Stop!" I cried.
My hands were shaking.
I hated this.
I hated him.
I hated myself.
Because I knew this was manipulation.
And yet—
The idea of him hurting himself because of me…
Was unbearable.
"Okay," I whispered.
"I won't leave."
Silence.
Then his breathing changed.
Calmer.
"You promise?"
"Yes."
"You won't block me again?"
"No."
"You're mine."
The control was back.
Steady.
Secure.
And I had just handed it to him.
In that moment—
I understood something clearly.
I can never let him go.
And he will never let me go.
Not because he loves me.
Because he needs me.
For money. For power. For comfort. For ego.
And maybe—
Just maybe—
There is a small part of him that loves me.
Because what I saw in his eyes sometimes…
That intensity.
That hunger.
That softness when he said my name—
It can't all be fake.
Right?
Right?
Or maybe I just needed it to be real.
Because if it wasn't—
Then I gave everything for nothing.