Heartbreak and Happiness

The next morning, I walked through the college gates with a head full of thoughts and a heart still reeling from the night before.

And that's when I saw him.

Nikhil.

Standing right at the entrance… waiting.

His eyes scanned the crowd until they landed on me—and for a split second, time seemed to pause. My breath caught, my steps faltered, and for a moment, I couldn't tell what was racing faster—my heart or my thoughts.

Why was he waiting? What did he want now?

But before I could take another step forward, I felt a soft hand wrap around mine.

Simmi.

Her grip was gentle, but her voice was firm—low and serious, like a whisper meant only for my ears.

"Brother," she said, her eyes locked on mine with rare intensity, "I won't always be there beside you to protect you. I won't always be around to pull you back when he tries to get close. So promise me… remember this for yourself—stay away from Nikhil."

Her words didn't feel like advice.

They felt like a lifeline.

In a world that had become confusing and blurry, Simmi was the one person who had never changed. The one person I could trust more than anyone—more than even myself, sometimes.

She wasn't just my sister.

She was like my best friend.

And when she looked at me that way, with quiet concern and fierce protectiveness, I believed her. I believed every word she said—because she had never given me a reason not to.

I turned back toward the gate, toward Nikhil… who was still standing there, watching, waiting—his expression unreadable.

But this time… I didn't stop.

I didn't wave.

I didn't even look long enough to let my heart trick me into second-guessing.

I simply turned my face away…

And walked past him—as if he didn't exist.

It hurt.

More than I thought it would.

But I kept walking, hand still in Simmi's, heart still in pieces—but a little more protected than yesterday.

We made our way to class without saying another word, the silence between us filled with understanding.

And in that silence, I made a silent promise to myself:

No matter how many times Nikhil shows up… I won't let him break me.

Not if I can help it.

Not while Simmi's voice still echoes in my heart like a shield.

Everything had been going fine—at least until the free period.

For the first half of the day, I managed to keep my focus on the lectures, on my notes, on anything but the storm still brewing inside me after last night. Nikhil hadn't approached me since the morning, and I was trying my best to pretend things were normal.

When the bell rang for the free period, most of the students got up to head out, chattering loudly as they made their way toward the hand wash area. I glanced around the classroom, but Simmi was already gone.

Ruhi had been upset with her about something, and Simmi, being Simmi, went off quickly to patch things up with her.

So for the first time that day… I was on my own.

I stepped out into the corridor, my thoughts distant, my heart a little heavy—but determined to get through the rest of the day without any more drama.

But I wasn't even halfway down the hallway when it happened.

A hand grabbed my wrist.

Firm, deliberate.

I turned, and there he was.

Nikhil.

His eyes locked on mine—not playful like before, not even angry. Just… unreadable. Cold. Still. Almost too calm.

"Rohan," he said, his voice low but sharp, "Are you avoiding me?"

I swallowed hard.

I didn't want this.

Not now.

"No," I said, forcing a small, neutral smile. "It's not like that."

"Then what is it like?" he asked, stepping a little closer.

I could feel my pulse in my throat. I didn't want to make a scene, and I didn't want him to see how nervous he still made me feel.

"I'll talk to you later, okay? Please… just let me go right now."

I tried to sound firm, but polite.

Tried not to let the fear creep into my voice.

He looked at me for a moment—too long. His expression didn't change. His grip loosened.

"Fine," he said simply, letting my wrist go.

But it wasn't what he said that got to me.

It was the way he looked at me.

His face was calm—too calm—and his eyes… they were cold. Emotionless. As if he was already planning something.

It sent a chill through me.

I walked away quickly, trying not to look back. My feet carried me toward the canteen, where I hoped I could disappear in the safety of friends, noise, and the smell of coffee.

I spotted Simmi and Ruhi sitting at a table by the window, and just the sight of them calmed something inside me. I rushed over.

"Hey," I said, trying to sound casual. "What happened? Why is Ruhi upset with you?"

Simmi rolled her eyes dramatically and sighed. "Ruhi wants me to participate in the college event. She signed me up for singing. But I don't want to."

Ruhi jumped in immediately, arms crossed but a small smile forming. "I know she sings well! But she always backs out. I was trying to convince her all morning, but she just kept running away."

I looked at Simmi and smiled gently. "I think Ruhi's right, you should go for it. Participating will show you where you stand, how much more practice you might need. It's a good opportunity, Simmi."

Ruhi grinned and pointed at me. "See? Thank you, Rohan. Finally someone understands me. I was starting to feel like I was speaking to a wall!"

Simmi groaned. "Ugh, you both ganged up on me."

I laughed. "I'm just doing the minimum a friend should do—backing up the right side."

Simmi mock-pouted, but I could see the appreciation in her eyes.

And in that moment, with the two of them laughing, teasing, and bickering like always, I felt something inside me ease.

Like, even if part of my world was spinning out of control… this right here was still solid.

Still safe.

Still mine.

Simmi, Ruhi, and I were still caught up in our little moment of laughter—our safe corner in the chaos of college life—when everything shattered in an instant.

We didn't see him approach.

But suddenly, standing over us, was Anant Shree, one of the most feared seniors in college. Tall, broad-shouldered, with eyes that seemed to burn straight through you. He looked like he carried a storm wherever he went.

He stared directly at me.

"You're Rohan, right?" he asked, voice cold and sharp like steel.

I nodded slowly, confused. "Yes… why?"

Before I could even react, his hand shot out—grabbing me by the collar.

In one violent jerk, he yanked me off my feet and slammed me onto a nearby table where a group of students had just been eating lunch. Plates flew. Trays toppled. Food scattered all over the place.

My body hit the hard surface with a loud crash, and suddenly I was drenched in spilled curry, sticky juice, and broken pieces of lunch trays. My clothes were soaked, my skin stung from the impact, and a dozen shocked eyes turned to look at me.

Everything froze.

I lay there, stunned—body aching, heart racing.

I looked up at him, eyes wide with shock, and asked with whatever strength I had,

"Why are you hitting me? What have I done?"

Anant didn't flinch. He leaned down, grabbed me by the hair, and growled in a voice so low it made my stomach turn.

"You haven't done anything. I don't even know you, and frankly—I don't care about you."

I winced as he yanked my head back further.

"But you know who I do care about?" he whispered.

"Nikhil."

My heart dropped.

"I don't have the guts to attack him directly—not because I fear him. But because I want to break him… by hurting the ones he's responsible for."

He grinned wickedly.

"You… Rohan. You're the one he's trying to protect, isn't he? So if I hurt you, and make you bleed—maybe, just maybe, the whole college will see that Nikhil isn't as powerful as he pretends to be."

And with that, he punched me.

Hard.

Pain exploded through my jaw as my head snapped sideways. I tasted blood instantly. The world spun for a moment.

Beside us, Simmi screamed. She rushed forward, her hands folded, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Please, Anant bhaiya! Please! Don't hurt him! Your fight is with Nikhil, not Rohan! He's done nothing to you!"

But Anant wasn't listening.

He raised his hand—about to strike Simmi next.

"Stay out of this!" he barked.

Simmi stood frozen in fear.

But before he could land the blow, something happened that no one saw coming.

Ruhi moved.

She dropped to her knees, grabbed Anant's legs with both hands, and with all her strength—pulled.

Anant lost his balance and crashed hard to the floor.

The entire canteen gasped.

Ruhi stood protectively in front of Simmi, fire in her eyes. "Don't you dare touch her. Not while I'm alive."

But the damage had been done.

More of Anant's group—other seniors, loyal to his ego—were already moving in. They saw what Ruhi did, and now, they were ready to fight.

The air turned dangerous. Heated. Electric.

It wasn't just about me anymore.

It was about power, pride… and protection.

And I, blood still dripping from my lip, clothes soaked in food, body aching—realized something in that moment:

The war Nikhil started… had now reached me.

And there was no way to avoid it anymore.

To be continue....