The evening had already cast its shadows over the room, but it didn't seem to matter inside Ram's apartment. The dining area was meticulously set, everything arranged just so, as if each dish and piece of silverware had been placed with painstaking care. The soft glow from the dimmed chandelier reflected off the polished table, creating a warm ambiance that clashed with the storm that raged inside his chest.

Ram had been preparing for this moment for days, maybe even weeks, but tonight felt different. Tonight, it wasn't just a dinner. It was a silent plea for redemption. He had hoped, against all odds, that Priya would walk through that door, that she would give him another chance, that somehow, they could rewind the clock and undo the mistakes he had made.

The doorbell rang sharply through the silence, and Ram's heart skipped a beat. The anticipation that had been building up in him for hours bubbled over as he rushed to answer it. When he opened the door, there she was—Priya. Her presence struck him like a force he wasn't prepared for. She stood in the doorway, her expression unreadable, her eyes reflecting a quiet strength.

They exchanged a brief look, one full of unspoken history, before Ram stepped aside to let her in. There was no need for words; the silence between them said more than they could ever articulate. Priya didn't speak as she walked past him and entered the dining area. She took in the scene—the carefully laid-out dinner, the glow of the candlelight, the food that had been prepared with such effort and intent. Ram had spared no detail in making it perfect. But Priya didn't notice the effort. Instead, she noticed the absence of what they had once shared, the distance that had crept into their relationship over time.

She stopped by the table and looked at him. "You've been waiting for me?" Her voice held a sarcastic edge, the kind that Ram had heard in her tone before, but this time it stung more than usual.

He chuckled softly, trying to mask the tension that was building up inside him. "Yes, I've been waiting. I wasn't sure if you'd come."

Priya simply turned away, moving toward her seat. Ram pulled out the chair for her, watching as she sank into it, her movements stiff and careful. She wasn't the same Priya he remembered. Gone was the warmth, the laughter, the love. In its place was a quiet resolve, a woman who had built walls around herself, protecting whatever part of her heart was left. He could feel the weight of her emotions in the room, though she said nothing.

As she sat, Ram poured the wine, the red liquid swirling in the glass, the sound of it filling the quiet space. Priya took the glass without protest, raising it to her lips and finishing it in one swift motion. Ram watched her, his heart heavy with the knowledge that she wasn't here because she wanted to be. She was here because she felt obligated, because she had promised. And even that felt like a fragile thread that could break at any moment.

He poured another glass, his hands slightly trembling as he tried to maintain his composure. Priya remained silent, barely acknowledging him as she picked at the food on her plate. Her eyes were cast downward, focused on the food in front of her, as though it were the only thing she could control in this moment. Ram's heart ached as he observed her, realizing that he had been the one to push her to this point.

She didn't say much as she ate, and when she did, her words were few and far between. "You've cooked all of this?" she asked, her voice distant but tinged with surprise.

Ram nodded, a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Yes, I thought you might like it."

Priya's lips curled into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. "You're getting better at it," she commented, but there was something in her voice—something hollow. It was as if she was commenting on something she could no longer care about, something that no longer held meaning for her.

The praise should have made Ram feel accomplished, but instead, it felt like a quiet dagger to the chest. She wasn't the woman who had once been so full of life, who had admired everything he did. Now, she was a stranger sitting across from him, her eyes empty of the warmth that had once been there.

As they continued eating, the silence between them became unbearable. Ram tried to keep his focus on his food, but he couldn't help stealing glances at Priya. Every time their eyes met, it felt like an electric shock—sharp, painful, and confusing. Priya, on the other hand, never looked up. She was lost in her thoughts, somewhere far beyond the dinner table, and it hurt him more than he could express.

He wanted to reach across the table, to take her hand and tell her everything he had been feeling, but he knew that would only push her further away. She had already built her walls, and he had no right to tear them down—not without her permission.

Finally, the silence became too much for him. He broke it gently, his voice barely above a whisper. "Priya, I know this isn't easy. But I want you to know I'm trying... I'm trying to be the person you always wanted me to be. The person I should have been all along."

Priya didn't respond immediately. She simply finished her wine and placed the glass down with a soft clink. She wasn't looking at him, but he could feel her eyes on him, even though they were cast downward. The weight of her gaze was more than he could bear.

 Her voice cracked the silence, sharp and venomous. "You're trying, but why, Ram? Why now? Why all of a sudden?" Her words were bitter, each one falling from her lips like an accusation, like a confession of everything she had been holding back for far too long.

Ram's heart hammered in his chest, his mind racing, scrambling to make sense of the storm unfolding before him. He had done everything to prepare for this night, to show Priya he was capable of change, of being the man she had once dreamed of. But now, it felt like all of his efforts were being shattered, one word at a time.

Priya's frustration only intensified as she continued, her voice trembling with barely contained fury. "I can't stand this act of yours anymore! You're making me insane!" Her words were a punch to the gut, but Ram could do nothing but stand there, watching the woman he loved unravel in front of him. The realization hit him hard, like a punch to the chest: she wasn't here to reconcile, to repair their broken relationship. She was here to tell him he had lost her for good.

"I came here just to warn you," she spat, stepping toward him with a fire in her eyes that made him step back instinctively. "Stop faking it. Stop pretending like you're something you're not. These tricks—these acts—they won't work on me." She slammed her hands on the table, and in one swift, violent motion, she pushed the plates away. The deafening crash of porcelain against the floor rang in Ram's ears, echoing the breaking of their bond. The food they had prepared, the night he had hoped would mark a turning point, now lay in shards at their feet.

"Priya, what are you doing? Are you mad?" Ram's voice cracked with confusion and hurt. He hadn't expected this—he had hoped for some kind of peace, some semblance of understanding between them. But instead, Priya was a whirlwind of fury and pain, and he was powerless to stop it.

"Yes, I am mad!" Priya yelled, her voice shaking with rage and sorrow. "I'm mad because I wasted so many years trying to understand you, trying to find the man I thought you were. But all I've found is someone who doesn't care. Someone who only thinks of himself!" Her words were a scorching truth, each one burning into Ram's heart. He wanted to argue, to defend himself, but the words caught in his throat. What could he say? What could he do when everything she was saying felt like the truth?

She moved toward him, her face twisted with fury and heartbreak, and grabbed his collar, pulling him closer to her. Ram stood frozen, caught in her grip, unable to look away from the fire in her eyes. "You think you've changed? You think this—" she gestured wildly around the room, at the table, the food, the effort he had put into this night—"is enough to fix what's been broken? To make me forget all the things you've done? All the things you didn't do?"

Ram's breath caught in his throat. He wanted to speak, to make her understand, but her words were cutting him down, each one more painful than the last. "You knew about Peehu. You knew she was my daughter, and still, you never stepped up. Never claimed her. How could you do that, Ram? How could you just ignore her existence like she didn't matter?" Her voice wavered, but the bitterness was unmistakable. "That's when I realized. You're a coward. You can't even take responsibility for the people who matter most. How could I ever trust you again?"

The blow hit Ram harder than he could have imagined. Priya was right. He had known about Peehu, about the daughter he had never claimed, and he had done nothing. He had kept his distance, kept his walls up, too afraid to face the reality of what he should have done. And now, Priya was holding him accountable for it, for the things he had failed to do.

"I didn't—" he started, but Priya cut him off, her voice now dripping with sarcasm.

"No, don't you dare defend yourself now!" She released him from her grip and backed away, her hands trembling with anger. "You think you've changed, but you haven't. You're still the same selfish, self-centered man you always were." Her face contorted with emotion, and for a moment, Ram thought she might crumble. But instead, she began to move around the room, her anger taking over, destroying everything in her path.

She knocked over a vase, sending it crashing to the floor. She knocked a picture frame off the wall, watching it shatter into pieces. The sound of destruction echoed in the room, mirroring the destruction of their relationship. Ram stood motionless, unable to stop her, unable to make things right. She was beyond his reach now, beyond his ability to fix anything.

"This is what you did to me, Ram!" Priya shouted, her voice raw with emotion. "This is what you made me become! You broke me. You made me hate you. And now you think you can just fix everything with a meal? With some fake gestures? You're wrong. You're so wrong."

Ram's heart broke as he watched her unravel, as she let her anger and her hurt consume her. This was it. There was no going back, no way to fix the years of mistakes, the years of silence, the years of him pushing her away when she needed him the most.

Priya stood there, her body trembling with rage, her eyes red with tears she hadn't allowed to fall until now. She had been holding it in for so long, and now, it was all spilling out in one devastating rush.

And Ram, standing there amidst the wreckage of their past, knew in his heart that he had lost her. The woman he had once loved, the woman who had been his everything, was now a stranger to him. And all he could do was watch as she destroyed everything that remained between them.