Later, the dim light of the bathroom door crept into the room.

She emerged, clothed, her hair damp and framing her face. Her steps were deliberate, yet her expression was icy and unreadable. She avoided looking at him for too long, her gaze cold and detached.

The faint rustle of her movement woke him slightly, but he only stirred, his arm falling lazily over the side of the bed. She paused for a moment, her heart hammering, before slipping out of the room.

*****

In the kitchen, she opened the refrigerator, the cool air brushing against her face as she retrieved the juice. Pouring herself a glass, her hands trembled slightly. From her pocket, she retrieved a small packet of powdered sleeping tablets, her eyes darting toward the doorway to ensure she was alone. She emptied the packet into the glass and stirred quickly.

The sound of footsteps behind her made her freeze.

She turned sharply to see him standing shirtless in the doorway. His disheveled hair and the soft expression in his eyes should have made him appear vulnerable, almost endearing. But to her, he was nothing more than a predator pretending to be tame.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice still thick with sleep.

She spoke nonchalantly, her grip tightening on the glass. “I came to get some juice. Do you want some?”

He leaned casually against the counter, his arms folded. “I was going to grab some milk, but now that I see the juice…” she trailed off, shrugging.

“Here,” she said, passing him the glass she just poured and extending it toward him.

"Have a glass of juice with me".

She suggested and poured herself an another glass. Silently she seated on the stool while his eyes didn't leave her.

He hesitated for a moment, his gaze softening as he studied her. There was something strange about her demeanor, something almost too accommodating. But her words disarmed him, and he nodded. “Alright.”

He felt as though everything was finally falling into place, as if the universe itself had conspired to align their paths. The resistance she had once shown, the cold distance in her eyes—it all felt less daunting now. He believed that her surrender, however reluctant, was the first step toward something greater, something he could nurture into love.

She may not like it now, he told himself, but that was only temporary. He would change everything. He would reshape the world around her, erase every obstacle that kept her from seeing the possibilities between them. Her unhappiness, her reluctance—they weren’t permanent, just symptoms of misunderstanding.

He would show her that life with him wasn’t a cage but a sanctuary. He would provide her with comfort, with love, with everything she could ever need. He would become the man she dreamed of, even if he had to carve away parts of himself to do it.

Every action he took, every word he spoke, would be deliberate, carefully designed to convince her, to win her over. He would make her smile, make her laugh, make her see the depth of his devotion. He would change everything—their home, their lives, even himself—if it meant she could finally look at him with something other than fear or resignation.

In his heart, he believed it was possible. He believed that love, his love, was powerful enough to transform her pain into joy. It would take time, but he was willing to wait, willing to fight, willing to sacrifice anything for her happiness.

Because to him, her happiness wasn’t just a goal—it was the only thing that mattered.

As they sipped their drinks, she forced herself to act casual, her heart pounding with every second.

*****

An hour later, she lay awake in his arms, his breathing deep and even. She could feel the heaviness of his body against hers, the warmth of his skin. But she didn’t dare linger on it. Slowly, she shifted, testing his reaction.

He stirred briefly, muttering incoherently, but the sleeping tablets had done their job. His eyelids fluttered but didn’t open, and soon he sank back into deep slumber.

Carefully, she slipped out of his grasp. Her feet barely made a sound as they hit the floor. She moved quickly, grabbing his phone from the bedside table. Holding her breath, she pressed his finger against the sensor to unlock it.

Her hands worked swiftly, navigating through his gallery, his recycle bin, his email. Relief washed over her when she didn’t find the incriminating photos or videos she feared. But just to be safe, she deleted everything, ensuring no trace of her remained on the device.

Next, she grabbed his phone and submerged it in the sink, watching as bubbles rose to the surface before the screen went dark.

In the living room, she ransacked his things, gathering any USB drives she could find. With no hesitation, she lit a small fire in a metal tin and tossed them in, watching as the flames consumed them.

Back in the bedroom, she searched his laptop. Files flashed on the screen as she deleted them without a second thought, her fingers moving with a furious resolve. Office files, personal documents—she didn’t care. Everything was collateral damage.

She stuffed a small bag with essentials: a few clothes, food, and all the cash she could find in his wallet. Her movements were methodical, her mind focused entirely on escape.

****

Finally, she stood in the doorway of the bedroom, her eyes falling on him one last time. He lay sprawled across the bed, his face peaceful in sleep, his chest rising and falling rhythmically.

This man had put her through hell. She owed him no mercy, no second chances.

She would leave him and never return, no matter the cost. Let him burn in the fire of his own making—she no longer cared. He had driven her to the darkest depths, forcing her to do things she never imagined herself capable of, all while having the gall to call it love.

“Love? What a cruel joke,” she muttered under her breath.

Her voice rose, sharp and full of venom. “I hate you. Truly and completely.”

Her eyes blazed with fury as she added, “I’m leaving, and I will never see your face again. I curse you to never find a single moment of restful sleep.”

With those words, she turned away, sparing the house one final glance—a house that had once been a home but was now nothing more than a prison of memories.

With her bag in hand and her heart heavy but resolute, she stepped into the night. Every step away from him was a step toward freedom and a new beginning.

******

Evening had descended, the flames from the fire flickering with the same fiery hue as the setting sun. Her clothes—ones he had carefully picked for her—now burned, reduced to ash by his own hand.

The blaze mirrored the rage in his eyes, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached.

He had woken at 2 in the afternoon, only to find his phone drenched and destroyed, his USBs reduced to melted scraps, and his system wiped clean of all data.

Frantically, he had searched the house for her, calling her name, tearing through every corner. At first, he feared the worst—that she had been kidnapped.

But the truth was far crueler.

His chest constricted as he reviewed the CCTV footage from the hidden camera he’d installed near their bed. What he saw shattered him completely.

She had left. Willingly. Bags packed. A deliberate betrayal.

He stood frozen, the weight of her actions crushing him. He had truly believed they were going to start over, to build something new together.

Rage bubbled up, consuming him as tears threatened to spill from his eyes.

"I will not leave you, Asha," he growled, his voice low but deadly. "I will not. You better run far and stay far, because if you ever fall into my hands, the consequences will be too severe."

His fists tightened, knuckles whitening as his fury threatened to overwhelm him.

"You have hurt the man who was ready to change for you. To be better—for you. And now?" He let out a bitter laugh, his voice breaking. "Don’t blame me when I’m worse than my old self."

His vision blurred with unshed tears, the firelight reflecting in his burning gaze.

"Out of everyone, you shouldn’t have been the one to give me false hope," he spat. "You’re dead meat, Asha. You better run—for a long, long time—because I don’t see my anger cooling anytime soon."

The fire roared in the silence, consuming everything, just as his fury consumed him.

"I swear I'll not go easy on you".

He whispered to himself as a tear of range slid down from his eye.

*****THE END*****

New book will be starting soon.

HAPPY NEW YEAR 2025