Priya's breath caught in her throat as she looked up at Ram, her voice barely steady. "What are you doing here?" she asked, trying to mask her unease with irritation.

Ram's gaze softened, his voice gentle but probing. "Are you still struggling with your thoughts? About last night... I'm sorry. I noticed you were distracted today while you were with Arjun."

Priya bristled at his words, refusing to let him see the turmoil churning inside her. "Why would I be? I don't want to think about it," she retorted sharply, avoiding his eyes as she climbed into her car. But before she could close the door, Ram slid in beside her, uninvited.

Frustration bubbled up within her. "Why are you doing this? Just get out of my car!" she snapped, but Ram didn't budge. With an irritated sigh, she half-heartedly started the engine, her hands trembling on the steering wheel. She drove in tense silence, her mind racing as they left the mansion behind.

Finally, she couldn't take it any longer. She slammed on the brakes, the car jerking to a sudden stop. "Enough. Now tell me, what are you talking about?" she demanded, turning to Ram, her eyes flashing with a mix of anger and fear.

Ram met her gaze, his tone calm but firm. "I just want to advise you to shake off any guilt from your mind. It was an accident, Priya."

Her frustration boiled over, her voice shaking with emotion. "How can you do this to me?"

Ram looked at her, confusion and concern mingling in his expression. "Do this to you? What did I even do? We were both intoxicated, and one thing led to another, that's all."

Priya pressed her hands to her temples, trying to think, trying to breathe. Then, a sudden, chilling thought struck her. She looked up at Ram, her eyes wide with panic. "Did you... did you use protection?"

Ram hesitated, the question hanging heavy in the air. After a moment, he scratched his head, his voice uncertain. "I think... I didn't."

The world seemed to tilt beneath her. "Fuck, how can you—How much time do we have? I need to do something."

Ram, sensing the urgency in her voice, spoke up. "Let's go to a medical shop, then."

Without another word, Priya turned the car around, her heart pounding in her chest. The tension between them was palpable,

Priya brought the car to a halt in front of a brightly lit supermarket, the neon signs flickering in the evening gloom. She glanced over at Ram, her expression a mix of urgency and irritation. "Go get that," she ordered, her voice tight.

Ram hesitated, the discomfort clear on his face. "How can I—?"

Priya's glare cut him off, her patience fraying. "Do you want me to do it?" she yelled, the sharpness of her tone making him flinch.

"Wait, I'll get it!" Ram quickly relented, fumbling with the door handle in his haste to escape her anger. He hurried inside the supermarket, his mind a whirl of confusion and guilt. Moments later, he emerged, clutching a small paper bag filled with various boxes.

Climbing back into the car, he handed the bag to Priya, his expression almost sheepish. "Here... I didn't know which one would be better, so I bought them all."

Priya stared at the assortment of pills in her lap, her frustration bubbling over. "What is this?" she snapped, her eyes narrowing as she rifled through the boxes.

Ram shrugged helplessly. "I don't know... I just thought—"

"Forget it," Priya muttered, picking one of the pills at random. She swallowed it quickly, her mind already racing ahead to her next move. "I've got to go. I'm already late."

She looked at Ram, her voice firm and final. "Get down here and take a cab."

Ram blinked, taken aback by her bluntness. "Can't you just drop me off at my place?" he asked, almost pleading.

Priya's patience had worn thin. "Stop being so demanding, Ram. Get down already."

Without waiting for his response, she unlocked the door and nodded towards the pavement. Reluctantly, Ram climbed out of the car, his face a mix of frustration and resignation. Before he could say anything more, Priya slammed the door shut, shifted the car into gear, and sped off into the night, leaving Ram behind in the supermarket's cold fluorescent glow.

He watched her taillights disappear down the street, the hum of the city surrounding him, but the sound of his own thoughts drowned it out. Alone now, he sighed, running a hand through his hair, and resigned himself to hailing a cab.

In the days that followed, Ram found himself drifting through life in a daze, going through the motions but never fully present. Though he made an effort to avoid Priya, her presence lingered in his mind, like a shadow that refused to fade. He couldn't explain it—a strange, inexplicable pull that kept drawing him back to thoughts of her, despite every logical reason he had to keep his distance.

Priya was everything he thought he didn't want. She wasn't his type—too headstrong, too independent, too... unpredictable. She didn't fit into the neat, orderly world he had built for himself, a world where trust had been shattered and was too fragile to rebuild. His past had left scars too deep to ignore, scars that whispered caution whenever his heart dared to feel something new.

And yet, there was something about Priya that unsettled him, something that made it impossible to fully shut her out. Her fiery spirit, her unwavering determination, the way she spoke her mind without fear—it all clashed with his carefully constructed walls. But it also intrigued him, pulling him into a battle between his heart and his mind.

Every time he caught himself thinking of her, he would shake his head, as if trying to dislodge her from his thoughts. But the more he tried to ignore it, the stronger the pull became. He'd find himself wondering where she was, what she was doing, if she was thinking about him too. He'd replay their last conversation in his mind, analyzing every word, every look, trying to understand the emotions that seemed to have taken root without his permission. 

On the other side of the city, Priya was fighting a battle of her own. No matter how hard she tried to distance herself from Ram, he lingered in her thoughts, a stubborn echo that wouldn't fade. She found herself thinking about him at the most unexpected moments—a fleeting memory of his smile, the way he looked at her that night, or the sound of his voice when he spoke her name. It frustrated her to no end.

Priya knew better than to let herself get caught up in thoughts of him. Ram was everything she had always tried to avoid—careless, reckless, the kind of man who never took anything seriously. He was charming, sure, but in a way that made her wary. Priya had seen his type before, the smooth-talking womanizer who could easily break hearts without a second thought. She had promised herself long ago that she would never fall for someone again.

And yet, there he was, stuck in her mind like a thorn she couldn't pull out. It angered her, this unwelcome intrusion into her life, this unwanted distraction. She had worked hard to build walls around her heart, to protect herself from the kind of pain she had seen others go through. She couldn't afford to let someone like Ram slip through those defenses.

It was a quiet Sunday morning at the Kapoor mansion, the kind of morning where time seemed to slow down, allowing everyone to linger a little longer over breakfast. The family was gathered around the table, a rare moment of peace and togetherness. The soft clink of cutlery and the murmur of casual conversation filled the room, creating an atmosphere of warmth.

Suddenly, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the hallway, and the mood shifted. Arjun, who had been quietly eating his breakfast, looked up, his eyes widening as he recognized the figure stepping into the room. "Mom?" he whispered, almost in disbelief, as he stood up from his chair.

The room fell silent, everyone turning to see the unexpected visitor. There she was—Anisha, standing in the doorway, her presence a ghost from the past that none of them had expected to see. The shock of seeing her again after so many years froze everyone in place, except for Ram.

The moment Ram's eyes landed on Anisha, his expression darkened, and a surge of anger coursed through him. He pushed back his chair with a loud scrape and stormed towards her, his face twisted in fury. "How dare you set foot inside this house again?" he spat, his voice low and menacing.

Anisha flinched but stood her ground, her eyes pleading as she looked at him. "Ram, listen to me. I just came to see Arjun."

Ram's laughter was bitter and harsh. "Really? After fucking seven years, you suddenly want to see your son?" His words were like venom, each one cutting deep. "Before I lose my temper, I suggest you leave. Now."

Arjun, who had been watching in stunned silence, finally found his voice. "But Dad—" he began, his voice trembling with a mix of confusion and longing.

Ram turned sharply to his son, his tone brooking no argument. "Arjun, go back to your room. Now."

Arjun hesitated, torn between his father's command and the mother he had longed to see for so many years. But the authority in Ram's voice left no room for defiance. With one last, longing glance at his mother, Arjun turned and slowly walked back to his room, the weight of the moment heavy on his small shoulders.

Ram's eyes returned to Anisha, his patience worn thin. "Do you want me to call the guards?" he asked, his voice cold and unyielding.

Anisha shook her head, her expression one of quiet resignation. "That's not needed. I'm leaving." Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, as she turned on her heel and walked out the door.

The room remained silent as her footsteps faded away, the echo of her departure lingering in the air. Ram stood there for a moment, his fists clenched, the anger slowly ebbing away, leaving behind a bitter emptiness. The family was still, the shock of Anisha's sudden appearance hanging over them like a dark cloud.

Breakfast was forgotten, the peace of the morning shattered by the unexpected confrontation. And as Ram finally turned away from the door, he couldn't help but feel the sting of old wounds, reopened by the woman who had once meant everything to him, and who had now become nothing more than a painful reminder of the past.