Shubman stared at the wooden door, far too long. It had been days since he arrived in Delhi, but still, courage eluded him. He had so many days before coming here, and more days still before the match started. Only his heart knew how heavy his feet felt, dragging him here.

His finger hovered over the doorbell, trembling slightly as his mind raced. Should he ring it? Or turn and run back to the safety of his hotel?

Run. Stay. Run. Stay. Run. Stay.

His heart pounded. His mind screamed.

RUN.

No, STAY!

The words echoed inside him, pulling him apart. Run! Stay! He could feel the panic rising in his chest. RUN! His legs twitched. STAY! His finger twitched. His breath caught.

His heart exploded with the decision, bursting through the chaos in his mind.

STAY!

With a sharp breath, his finger pressed down on the doorbell.

Hastily pulling his finger away, he looked at the door, which opened after a moment. As the large house came into view, his eyes drifted downward to the woman in her late sixties, staring at him in confusion.

"Beta, Virat is not home. He's in Bangalore," said Mumma Kohli.

He gulped, clenching his fists behind his back. "I'm not here to meet Paaji, I'm here to..." he trailed off, unable to finish his sentence.

Mumma Kohli's eyes widened, filling with love, relief, and gratefulness as she softly completed his thought. "You're here to meet Mina... I mean, Pashmina."

Shubman swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest. He hadn't expected Mumma Kohli to understand so quickly, and the warmth in her eyes left him momentarily speechless. He opened his mouth to respond, but the words seemed stuck in his throat.

Mumma Kohli stepped aside, her smile gentle but knowing. "Come in, beta," she said softly. She's in her room," Mumma Kohli said, her voice trembling with pain and sadness. "She's been there for the last three years."

He looked down at the elderly woman, who gazed up at him with hopeful eyes. She gently took his hands in her own, her wrinkled skin soft against his. Her voice trembled as she whispered, breaking intermittently, "I don't want to force you, but this mother is asking—more like begging—to bring her child back to her. You have the power, though I don't know how. If you can do it, I will be forever indebted to you, Shubman."

He caressed her wrinkled fingers, his tears falling onto her hands as he saw her helplessness. "I'll do what I can," he promised, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "I can't guarantee anything, but I'll try."

Mumma Kohli's eyes softened with relief as she gently squeezed his hands. "Thank you, Shubman beta. Just knowing you're willing to help means more than you can imagine."

He gently withdrew his hands from hers, wiping his tears with the back of his hand. Nodding, he said, "I'm going to say this once more. I might sound rude, but if things don't change, please don't blame me." He looked at her, his eyes filled with fear as he bit his lip, more tears spilling down.

Mumma Kohli felt a pang of sympathy for the young man. She was still worried that she might be pressuring him too much. With a compassionate gaze, she said, "If you still feel like you're being forced and you want to turn away, it's okay. We won't blame you."

Shubman looked up quickly, his expression earnest. "No, no, that's not what I meant," he said, his voice trembling. "I'm here because I want to help, not because I'm being forced. I just need you to understand that the outcome might not be what we hope for."

Mumma Kohli cupped Shubman's face gently, her smile warm and reassuring. "Don't think too much," she said softly. "Just do your part. If things turn out positive, we will be grateful to you. And even if they don't, don't worry. We won't be angry. At least we'll have a sense of satisfaction knowing we tried to find a way to bring Pashmina out of the darkness."

Mumma Kohli pulled Shubman's face gently down and kissed his forehead. "Just do what you feel is right," she whispered softly.

Shubman felt his tension melting away with the comfort of the motherly kiss. Murmuring a quick, heartfelt "Thank you," he turned and walked towards Pashmina's room.

Meanwhile, Mumma Kohli watched him go with a hopeful gaze. As she stood by the door, her hands clasped in silent prayer, she whispered to herself, "Rabji, please let this be the right key to bring light back into Pashmina's life."

Shubman turned the handle and opened Pashmina's door. The last time he had stood before this room, tension had built up in his heart, but now, he felt a surprising calmness, as if he were coming home. It was odd to experience such contrasting feelings in the same place at different times. Clearly, this woman had a profound effect on him.

As the door creaked open, he stepped inside, allowing the quiet of the room to envelop him. Pashmina looked up from her place by the window, her eyes meeting his with a mix of surprise and wariness.

"Mina," he called softly, immediately regretting not using her full name. His heart seemed to be taking control, while his mind lagged.

Pashmina stood up walking towards him with slow, deliberate steps. The room was still shrouded in darkness, but the moonlight seeping through the window cast a gentle glow, softening the shadows.

"You came," she whispered, her voice barely audible as she searched his face, trying to assure herself that he was truly there.

Shubman, unable to tear his eyes away from her beautiful face, replied quietly, "I had to. How could I not?"

Pashmina smiled softly as she looked into his brown eyes. "Well, Shubman Gill, have a seat," she said, gesturing towards the bed. Her tone was gentle, carrying a hint of warmth.

As she moved towards her rocking chair, scraping it across the floor towards the bed, Shubman followed her, almost in a trance.

He took a seat on the edge of the bed, his gaze never leaving her. Pashmina settled into her chair, her eyes meeting his with a mixture of curiosity and cautious hope.

Shubman looked at her face, admiring the way the moonlight made her features look beautiful in its soft glow. He leaned towards the switchboard, intending to turn on the lights for a clearer view, but Pashmina suddenly shouted, "No, not the lights!"

She breathed heavily, her eyes wide with fear. Shubman paused, confused, as he saw her shaking her head and finger with anxiety.

"No, not the lights," she repeated, her voice trembling.

Shubman remained still, his hand hovering over the switchboard, as he studied Pashmina's anxious expression. The moonlight painted her face in soft, ethereal tones, making her look almost otherworldly.

Shubman's eyes softened with understanding. He nodded slowly, retracting his hand from the switchboard. "Alright, we'll keep it as it is," he said gently. But then he asked, "But why not the lights?"

Pashmina took a deep breath, her eyes never leaving his. "The lights... they're too harsh," she said quietly. "They'll change everything. I need... I need this moment to stay as it is.

Shubman took a deep breath, his gaze steady as he watched Pashmina. "Alright," he said gently, nodding in understanding. "We'll keep it as it is."

Pashmina nodded, her hand resting over her heart as she sat back in the chair.

He looked up and murmured, "I wanted to meet you, Pashmina. I wanted to understand and help if I can."

Pashmina swallowed hard, looking down and scratching the wood of her rocking chair with her nails. "Shubman," she began, her voice trembling slightly, "I want to warn you before we start. This is going to be long and messy. If you're willing to step into this, be prepared. Otherwise, the door is still open. I won't mind. I'm used to this life."

Shubman's expression remained calm and resolute. He met her gaze with a quiet determination. "I understand. I'm ready for whatever it takes," he said softly. "I'm here to stay and help, no matter how difficult it gets."

Pashmina hugged herself, her voice trembling slightly as she spoke. "There are things from my past that I need to confront. It's a tangled mess of emotions and memories. Are you ready to be my unpaid therapist?"

Shubman smiled, his dimples deepening as he spoke. "I became your unpaid therapist the moment I walked through those doors."

Pashmina managed a small, grateful smile in return, feeling a bit of the weight lift off her shoulders. "Then let's start," she said, her voice steadying. "I'm ready when you are."

Shubman smiled warmly. "Well, let's make today a day off. We'll start after the IPL. I have some time then. Until then, I'll visit you, and we can talk about any random things to get comfortable with each other."

Pashmina nodded, running her fingers through her hair as she agreed, "Okay, done."

Shubman felt his heart do somersaults at her gesture, the simple movement stirring emotions within him. He tightened his grip on the pillow beside him, reminding himself that she was just a friend in need of help, and he needed to keep his focus clear.

Pashmina glanced at the time and then looked at Shubman. "As much as I would love to have you here with me, you should be going. You need to rest for practice."

Shubman frowned, reluctant to part ways. He would have been content to stay with her as long as he could, but he knew Pashmina was right. He had to leave or risk oversleeping and missing practice, which he, as captain, couldn't afford to be irresponsible about.

With a sigh, he stood up, offering Pashmina a reassuring smile. "I really would stay longer if I could, but you're right. I need to get going. We'll pick up where we left off soon."

Pashmina smiled, blinking as she looked at him. Shubman nodded, preparing to leave when Pashmina suddenly called out, "Wait!"

He turned around, puzzled, as he saw her taking quick, small steps toward him. Her hands wrapped around his neck in a tender embrace. Shubman's breath hitched as he felt her body press against his, her trembling evident.

"Come soon," Pashmina whispered, her voice quivering. "I'll be waiting. You will come, won't you?"

Shubman held her close in his strong arms, her small frame almost disappearing against his larger one. He whispered softly into her ear, "I'll be back before you know it. Don't worry, I won't let you wait too long."

Pashmina clung to him for a moment longer, drawing comfort from his presence.

When Pashmina didn't let go, Shubman gently rubbed her back, offering comfort. "Mina, I'm just one call away, okay? I will be back," he whispered softly.

Reluctantly, he pulled away, his hands lingering on her shoulders for a moment. Pashmina nodded, trying to control her anxiety and steady her breath.

Shubman gently kissed Pashmina's forehead before turning to leave. As he walked out, the door closing softly behind him, Pashmina's breathing grew heavy once more. She sank into her rocking chair, her gaze fixed on the wall.

"Hope he comes back," she whispered to herself, the anxiety still present. A comforting voice within her replied, "He will."

~~~~~

The next Chapter is to be uploaded when this chapter reaches at least 30 votes.