Chahun Mai Ya Na(Is It A Crime)

19~

Dhruv's SUV | Midnight Drive - National Highway

The road stretched ahead like a shadowy ribbon, flickering under the dim streetlights. Inside the car, silence had taken over - not the peaceful kind, but the kind filled with Akshu's spiraling thoughts.

She hugged her arms tight, staring out the window.

Akshu (muttering):
"Woh minister... pagal hai. Agar usne mera apartment trace kar liya toh? Vo toh seedha wahin aa jaayega. Tere paas koi plan B hai kya?"

Dhruv casually turned on the car radio.

Radio (mechanical tone):
"Saadhan rahein, satark rahein."

Akshu blinked. The timing was so bad, it was comical.

Before she could even react, Dhruv smirked and added his own twist.

Dhruv (in mock serious voice):
"Aur special warning for: Ms. Akshara Mehta - dulha psycho hai, toh dulhan ho ya dulhan ke dost, sab satark rahein."

Akshu whipped her head around.
"WHAT THE HELL?!"

Dhruv (grinning):
"Naam sun ke dar gayi? Achha hai... kam se kam us minister se pehle toh kisi ne tujhe Mr. bana diya."

Akshu (gritted teeth):
"Teri toh... koi ladki tere saath bhaagegi bhi toh uski kismat chappal ki tarah ghis jaayegi."

Dhruv (raising an eyebrow):
"Tu hi toh bhaag rahi hai. Kya main bata doon minister aunty ko?"

Akshu (threatening):
"Tu chupp kar aur gaadi chala. Warna tujhe highway pe chhod ke chali jaungi... khud car chala ke."

Dhruv:
"Waise bhi tu clutch ka kaam brakes se karti hai."

Akshu groaned, hiding her face in her hands.

Dhruv chuckled to himself, eyes still on the road. But secretly... he was enjoying this escape far more than he expected.

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Maya's Room | Late Night Silence

The fairy lights behind her blinked slowly, but Maya didn't notice. She sat on the edge of her bed, knees pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped tightly around them. The room was quiet... too quiet.

But inside her head?

A riot.

Abhay's voice echoed again.

Maya, I...
-call ended-

That drop. That silence.
No closure. No explanation. Just a cliff and a fall.

Her breathing grew shallow.

Overthinking was no longer a habit. It was her oxygen.

"What if I made a fool of myself?"
"What if he's disgusted?"
"What if he never calls back?"
"What if this ruins everything?"
"What if... what if... what if..."

Her fingers, clenched into fists, dug deeper into her palms. She didn't even realize how hard she was pressing until her short, polished nails pierced her skin. Tiny red crescent moons began forming.

And she still didn't stop.

Her thoughts spiraled faster, wild and vicious.

Abhay's silence hurt more than a rejection.

He wasn't just anyone.
He was Abhay. Her person. Her safe zone. The only one who knew what her laugh sounded like after crying, what coffee she liked during her panic attacks, what songs she played when her mom yelled at her.