Chapter 24: The Weight of the Ring
The gym air was thick with the scent of ozone and unsaid words. Vihaan's hands were still on my shoulders, his thumb brushing against the fabric of my hoodie, when the heavy glass doors swung open with a violent shudder.
Raj.
He didn't look like the polished, smiling architect I'd spent the last few months with. His hair was disheveled, his eyes bloodshot from a night spent in his sister's guest room, and his hands were shoved deep into his pockets. Behind him, Priya hovered, looking caught between wanting to protect me and wanting to run for cover.
Vihaan didn't pull away. If anything, he stood taller, a silent challenge radiating from his frame.
"Raj," I breathed, my heart hammering against my ribs. "I can explain."
Raj stopped a few feet away. He looked at Vihaan's hands on me, then at the notebook sticking out of my pocket. For a long, agonizing moment, he said nothing. Then, he let out a laugh—but it wasn't bitter. It was the sound of a man finally letting go of a heavy burden.
The Long-Held Secret
"You were always terrible at hiding it, Janvi," Raj said softly, his voice echoing in the quiet gym. "Even back in college. When you were with him, you didn't just walk—you glowed. And even after everything shattered... that light never really went out. It just dimmed."
I blinked, stunned. "Raj, I never meant to hurt you. Last night, the proposal... I should have told you—"
"That you only like me?" Raj interrupted, a sad but kind smile touching his lips. He stepped closer, looking at both of us. "Janvi, I've liked you since our sophomore year. I wanted to tell you a thousand times, but back then, you were always Vihaan's. And after the bet... I thought I could be the one to heal you. I thought if I was steady enough, kind enough, you'd forget the fire he started."
He looked at Vihaan, whose expression had shifted from defensive to one of profound respect.
"But you can't replace fire with a candle, can you?" Raj asked rhetorically. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small velvet box from the night before. He didn't open it. He just held it. "I'm not angry, Janvi. I'm relieved. I've spent years wondering if I had a chance. Now I know."
A Bridge Rebuilt
Priya stepped forward, her eyes wide. "Raj? You're... you're okay with this? After what Vihaan did?"
Raj looked at the notebook in my pocket. "I saw the journal, Priya. A man doesn't write like that for five years unless he's been through hell of his own making. If Janvi can forgive him, who am I to stand in the way of the only thing that makes her look truly alive?"
He turned back to me, his gaze lingering one last time. "Be happy, Janvi. But Vihaan?" His voice turned stern, the protective friend surfacing. "If you ever put a price tag on her heart again, you won't have to worry about her. You'll have to worry about me."
Vihaan stepped forward, extending a hand. It was a gesture of peace—one man acknowledging the nobility of another. "She is the only thing in my life that isn't for sale, Raj. I promise you that."
Raj took his hand, gave it a firm shake, and then turned to leave. "Priya, come on. Let's go get that brunch. I think these two have five years of catching up to do."
The Echoes Fade
As the doors closed behind them, silence descended again. But the tension was different now. The guilt that had been suffocating me for months had evaporated, replaced by a terrifying, beautiful clarity.
I turned to Vihaan. He was watching me, his eyes dark with an intensity that made my knees weak.
"He's a better man than me," Vihaan whispered.
"He is," I agreed, stepping into his space until our chests were almost touching. "But he isn't you."
Vihaan didn't wait. He cupped my face with his calloused hands, his touch desperate and reverent all at once. When his lips finally met mine, it wasn't like the movies. It wasn't soft or perfect. It tasted like salt, like years of regret, and like a promise that was finally being kept.
The girl who was a "line item in a ledger" was gone. In her place stood a woman who had walked through the wreckage and found the only thing worth saving.
"I've got you," he murmured against my skin, his breath hitching. "I've finally got you back."
I pulled him closer, the echoes of the waterfront finally fading into the background, replaced by the steady, rhythmic beating of two hearts that had always belonged to each other.