Ashriti's POV
"I won't do this again."
He sat in front of me, unusually quiet.
No arrogance. No smirk. Almost… fragile.
"I will never talk to any girl again."
I didn't respond.
"I will never lie to you again."
My chest tightened.
"I will never gamble again. Smoke again. Drink again."
That word — gamble — still stung.
"I'll become whatever you want," he said softly.
"I'll even be your loyal dog if that's what it takes."
The desperation in his voice sounded real.
Too real.
Deep down, I knew.
These were promises he had made before.
Different words. Same pattern.
But this time, something in me was tired.
Tired of fighting. Tired of breaking. Tired of doubting.
"I just don't want to lose you," he whispered.
And there it was.
The one line that always weakened me.
So I nodded.
And just like that, I believed him.
Or maybe—
I chose to believe him.
Because walking away would mean accepting that everything was fake.
And I wasn't ready for that.
The next few months were calm.
Suspiciously calm.
He stopped asking for big amounts.
He said he was "handling things on his own."
He called more often.
Texted more frequently.
Sent random pictures of his day.
"I'm trying," he would say.
And I would reply, "I know."
But somewhere inside me, something stayed unsettled.
There were still small cracks.
Late replies.
Disappearing for hours.
Unexplained irritation.
When I asked, he would say,
"Why are you overthinking again?"
So I stopped asking.
Because peace felt easier than truth.
Life moved forward.
College. Family dinners. Festivals. Smiling pictures.
And in all of it—
He stayed.
On my phone. In my thoughts. In my future plans.
Sometimes late at night, when we were on call and he went silent for a few seconds, I would wonder—
Is he really changing?
Or is he just waiting?
But then he would say my name softly.
And I would silence the doubt again.
Because doubt forces decisions.
And I wasn't ready to choose.
So months passed.
Him pretending he had changed.
Me pretending I believed him.
And somewhere quietly—
The truth was preparing its return.