The scent of lilies, Armaan's favorite, still clung faintly to the air in his new Udaipur flat. Ironically, it was the same scent that had filled our marital home, a bittersweet reminder of what we'd lost. The divorce had been brutal, a messy unraveling of vows and promises broken. Yet, here I was, Abhira Sharma, an advocate who should know better, entangled with him again. He’d painted a picture of a fresh start, of changed behaviour, of a love worth fighting for. His words, though vague and lacking concrete detail, were enough. Enough to make me believe, against all reason and better judgment, that this time it would be different. I allowed myself to be lulled by the familiar comfort of his presence, ignoring the familiar red flags that had led to our downfall. I chose to see the glimmer of hope where only shadows existed.

He’d moved to an opulent flat, a stark contrast to his traditional family house-the Poddar Mansion we’d shared before. This was the flat he was talking about before marrying me. He spoke of mending fences, of wanting to rebuild our life, his words laced with the same charm that had initially captivated me. He kissed me, holding me close as if we were still the couple we once were, a couple free from the pain and mistrust. And for those few precious hours, I allowed myself to forget the hurt, to pretend the past was a distant memory. The night unfolded predictably; promises whispered under the starlit sky, a future painted in rosy hues – a future I knew, deep down, was built on shifting sand. He was Armaan Poddar, after all, and some things never change.

The morning brought a cold reality. The lilies were wilting, mirroring the fading hope in my heart. He was gone, back to his family, his promises dissolving like morning mist. He left me alone, in his beautiful, empty flat, amidst the lingering scent of lilies and the crushing weight of my own foolish hope. My heart ached; a familiar, predictable ache. I was alone again, left to pick up the pieces of my shattered faith and to learn, once more, the hard lesson that some mistakes are impossible to undo and some men, despite their charm, remain irrevocably flawed. I was an advocate, I should have known better. But knowing and feeling are two very different things. Armaan was an addiction- I knew I can never quit. He had the power to destroy me and I was ready to be destroyed by him.

...........
AN OS- WITH THEMES OF ROMANCE, TRUST AND BETRAYAL.