I kissed her forehead, feeling the sting of tears in my eyes. "I will win, Kiki. I promise. I’ll do whatever it takes."
As I walked out of the hospital, the weight of the secret diary in my bag felt heavier. I was building a world of lies to save theperson I loved the most, and I just hoped that when the truth finally came out, I would still have a home to go back to.
One Month Later …
Switzerland felt like a dream. The white mountains stretched endlessly under a pale sky, their peaks glowing softly in the sunlight. The air was cold, and clean. It felt unreal, a slice of heaven that didn’t belong to the world I knew.
I stood by the large glass window of the hotel room, arms folded tightly as I stared out at the horizon. For a moment, everything looked peaceful. It was too peaceful to be true.
“First time?”
Abhiraj’s voice came from behind me. I didn't turn, just nodded slightly. “Yes.”
He stepped beside me, his gaze following mine. “You get used to it,” he said.
“I don’t think I want to,” I replied quietly.
He glanced at me, a silent question in his eyes. “Why?”
“Because then it’ll stop feeling special.” I sighed, my breath fogging the glass. My mind wasn't truly in Switzerland; it kept drifting back to Kirti, the surgery, the diary, and Saurav. My thoughts were a tangled mess I couldn't unknot.
“You’re thinking about something else,” Abhiraj noted.
“I don’t have the luxury not to.”
He didn’t push. He didn’t ask questions. Strangely, his silence made it easier to breathe.
The days that followed were a blur of contrast. Since we had three days before the event, Abhiraj insisted we explore this beautiful country. We walked through snow-covered streets, sat in quiet cafes, and watched landscapes that looked like oil paintings. But inside, I was a clock, counting every hour and every second lost.
One evening, we sat at a small cafe near the lake. Soft lights danced on the water, making the world around us feel calm and distant. I wrapped my hands around a cup of hot coffee, letting the warmth soak into my palms.
“You should enjoy this,” Abhiraj said.
I gave him a faint, tired smile. “I am.”
“No,” he replied calmly. “You’re trying to.” I didn’t respond. He wasn’t wrong. “Winning will solve your problem,” he continued, “but it won’t fix everything.”
I looked at him and said, “I’m not fixing everything. Just one thing.”
Abhiraj leaned back, his expression unreadable. “For what it’s worth,” he said, “we’re ready.”
That mattered more than I expected. “Thank you.”
The night before the competition, sleep was impossible. I stood alone in the practice hall, the stage lights dimmed to a low glow. My ghungroo echoed sharply with every tentative step I took.
There was something different tonight. A weight behind every movement. A desperation hidden beneath the grace. I stopped suddenly, my breath coming in uneven gasps.
“What if I fail?” I whispered to myself.
The thought had been there all along as it was unspoken and avoided. Now, it stood right in front of me, clear and terrifying.
“You won’t.” Abhiraj’s voice cut through the silence.
I turned to find him standing near the entrance, watching me.
“You don’t know that,” I said, my voice trembling.
“I do.”