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Chapter 21 - Chapter 21: **Crossroads and Confessions**

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**Chapter 21: Crossroads and Confessions**

The air in the apartment felt unusually heavy, almost as if the walls themselves were aware of the silence that had settled between Aanya and Arjun. It wasn't the comfortable silence of two people at peace, but the brittle quiet of distance growing too vast to ignore. Days had passed since their late-night confrontation, and in that time, they had become ghosts drifting through the same space, barely acknowledging each other's presence.

Aanya sat by the window, the early evening sun casting golden rays across her face. Her phone buzzed beside her. It was Rhea calling.

She hesitated for a moment, her thumb hovering over the screen before she finally answered.

"Aanya?" Rhea's voice was warm, concerned. "You okay? Your message last night… I've been worried."

Aanya didn't reply immediately. Her voice came out hoarse when she finally spoke. "I don't know, Rhea. I'm... lost."

There was a pause on the other end. "Want to talk about it?"

And she did. For the first time in what felt like ages, Aanya let the floodgates open. She poured out everything—how the marriage had started off on shaky ground, how she had tried to push through for the sake of her family, how Arjun's possessiveness had built walls around her instead of offering comfort. She told her everything—from the silent accusations to the suffocating affection, to her growing doubts about her own identity.

Rhea was quiet through most of it, only interjecting with the occasional "I'm here" or "That sounds really hard." When Aanya finally paused to catch her breath, the other end was silent for a beat longer than expected.

"I'm glad you told me all of this," Rhea finally said. "But you can't keep sacrificing your peace for a relationship that keeps you caged. Are you scared of him, Aanya?"

Aanya blinked, caught off guard. "No… Not scared. He's never hurt me. He's just… always *there*. Watching. Following. Wanting to be in control. I don't think he even realizes how it makes me feel."

"Then maybe it's time you made him see it," Rhea said softly. "You deserve more than a marriage where you're just surviving."

The words lingered in Aanya's ears long after the call ended.

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Later that night, Arjun returned from work a little earlier than usual. The moment he stepped into the apartment, he sensed something had changed. Aanya wasn't in her room or at the desk with her books scattered around like usual. Instead, she was sitting on the couch, waiting for him.

"You're home early," he said, a little surprised.

"I needed to talk to you."

Arjun's heart skipped. He walked in slowly, uncertain of what was coming. Her tone wasn't cold, but it wasn't warm either. Just… resolved.

"I talked to Rhea today," she began, watching his expression carefully.

His jaw tensed. "About what?"

"About us."

He didn't reply. Just lowered his briefcase and sat opposite her. She continued.

"I've been lying to myself for months, Arjun. I kept thinking things would get better, that we'd find a rhythm, that I'd learn to be okay with this marriage. But I'm not okay. I feel like I've lost myself completely."

Arjun leaned forward, rubbing his hands together. "I know things haven't been perfect. But I love you, Aanya. I've never loved anyone before. You're the only one I ever—"

"And that's the problem," she interrupted gently. "You love me… but in a way that doesn't leave space for me to breathe. You don't trust me. You follow me, you question every move I make, you always assume the worst. That's not love. That's fear disguised as affection."

Arjun stared at her, stunned into silence. No one had ever spoken to him like that—not even himself. He wanted to deny it, to tell her she was exaggerating, but deep down, he knew she was right.

"I'm not saying I want a divorce," she added quickly. "But I can't go on like this either. I need space. I need you to understand that I have a life outside of you."

He clenched his jaw, struggling to stay calm. "Do you still want to be with me?"

She looked at him for a long moment. "I want to want to be with you, Arjun. But I need to feel like *me* again before I can answer that honestly."

His voice cracked. "You want to move out?"

"I want to stay at my parents' house for a while. Just a couple of weeks. To think. To study. To breathe."

His whole body tensed, as if the floor had just crumbled beneath him. "So this is you walking away?"

"No," she said softly. "This is me hoping you'll understand enough to give me a reason not to."

There was a long silence. Arjun looked away, then back at her, his eyes glassy. "You always run away when things get hard, Aanya."

"And you always try to control them when they do," she shot back, her voice still calm. "Maybe if we both stopped doing that, we could actually meet in the middle."

He looked down, defeated. "I don't know if I can do this without you."

"You won't have to," she said, standing up. "You just have to learn how to be with me… *without owning me*."

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The next morning, Aanya packed a small suitcase and quietly left for her parents' house in Banjara Hills. Her mother welcomed her with a knowing look and a silent hug. Her father didn't ask questions but left a glass of fresh orange juice by her room—his usual way of saying he was there if she needed him.

Word traveled fast. That very evening, Arjun's mother called Aanya's mother.

"So she's left now?" her voice tinged with disdain. "He's changed so much since this marriage. Always distracted, always distant. I knew this girl wasn't the right fit."

Aanya's mother kept her tone neutral. "Maybe change was needed. Sometimes space is the only way to save something."

Arjun's sister, Shruti, was more sympathetic. She called Arjun directly. "She's not doing this to hurt you, bhai. She's doing this because she needs clarity. Let her find it."

Back at his place, Arjun sat on their shared bed, staring at the empty pillow beside him. He hadn't slept. He hadn't eaten. All he could think of was the way she had said, "I want to want to be with you."

He scrolled through his phone, stopping at an old picture of them from their first week of marriage—awkward smiles, distance between their shoulders. But the photo reminded him of something: they had never really had a beginning. It had all started with resistance and compromise.

Maybe now, finally, they had a chance to rewrite it.

If only he had the strength to let her go enough… to let her come back on her own.

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**[End of Chapter 21]**

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