Pashmina's Pov:

"Pasho..." a voice called out lovingly, making my eyes flutter open.

What I saw next took my breath away—Karan, standing there in a tuxedo, a bouquet of sunflowers in his hands. He looked almost unreal against the pure white backdrop, like a vision straight out of a dream. Without a second thought, I dashed towards him, wrapping my arms around him tightly as a tear slipped down my cheek. "We finally meet," I whispered.

"Not exactly, Pasho," he muttered, gently pulling me back. I frowned, confusion clouding my face. "What do you mean?" I asked, searching his eyes for an answer.

He looked at me with those warm brown eyes, and I felt myself melting. "Look around you," he said softly, gesturing to the surroundings.

I turned my gaze, taking in the scene around us. The space resembled a long platform, shrouded in a thick fog. As I tried to decipher where we were, a gasp escaped my lips when I realized that this was King's Cross Station—the gateway to the afterlife.

"Karan," I whispered, my voice trembling. "Are we... really here?"

He nodded a mixture of warmth and sadness in his expression. "Yes, Pasho. This is where we meet again, but it's not what you think."

I looked into his eyes, searching for clarity. "What do you mean?"

He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup my face. "Pasho, you need to move on from me."

His words struck me like a bolt of lightning, leaving me breathless. "Move on? But how can I?"

He sighed, his thumb brushing gently over my cheek. "You've held on for so long, and I understand why. But I want you to find peace, to live fully again. I can't be the reason you're stuck in this place."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I shook my head. "But you're here! How can I let go when you're right in front of me?"

Karan held me tightly in his arms, his warmth enveloping me as he pressed a gentle kiss on my nose. "Pasho, you're not here," he said softly, pulling back just enough to look into my eyes.

"What do you mean?" I asked, confusion swirling within me.

He took a deep breath, the sadness in his gaze deepening. "This moment, this place—it's all part of your mind, your memories. I may feel real, but I'm just a reflection of what you hold onto. I want you to understand that this isn't where you belong."

My heart sank as his words registered. "So you're saying... I'm imagining this? That I'm trapped in my memories?"

"Yes, you are," he said gently, looking at me with sympathy and pain. "Look at you—still imagining me in the same tuxedo and you in the same gown we wore to our graduation party."

Trembling, I looked down at the ivory gown that clung to me like a ghost of the past. It was the same dress I had worn on the day that changed everything in my life. The memories of that night flooded back—laughter, celebration, and the promise of a future filled with dreams. But it was also the day I lost so much, the day that marked the beginning of my sorrow.

Sobbing, I looked up at him, my heart breaking all over again. "So what do you want me to do? Forget the man I loved? The one who was my first crush and my first love?"

Karan's expression softened, and he reached out, gently cupping my face in his hands. "No, Pasho, I don't want you to forget me. I could never ask that of you. What we had was real and beautiful, and it will always be a part of you."

"Then how can I let go?" I cried, the weight of my emotions spilling over. "How can I move on from someone who meant everything to me?"

"You can cherish the love you had without being bound by it," he said, his voice steady and calming. "It's about finding a balance. You can keep the memories close to your heart while also allowing yourself to make new ones. Life is about growth, and that includes learning to love again, whether it's friendships, new experiences, or even new relationships."

"Karan!" I shouted, frustration pouring out of me. "You're here because of me! If only I had turned the steering wheel right on time, if I had balanced everything better, you wouldn't be here!"

Karan let out a weary sigh, his eyes filled with a tired kind of sadness as he looked at me. "Pasho, we were driving in the right lane. It was the truck driver's fault—he was drunk, not you. You did everything you could. Please, don't do this to yourself or Shubman."

Raising my eyebrows at him, I asked, "Shubman?"

"Yes, Shubman," he said, smiling softly. "That guy loves you. He's perfect for you, Pasho. Our chapter is closed, and I just want to say to you again—it's time for you to move on."

My eyes turned red as I said in a low, angry voice, "How can you ask me to love someone else? How can you ask me to think our chapter is closed? It didn't even start for it to shut!"

"Pasho, I am not coming back," Karan said, his voice firm yet gentle. "You need to understand that you have to give yourself a chance at love. Just see what the guy is going through."

Urging me to turn left, I saw a screen appear on my right. My heart sank as I watched Shubmam crying while I slept, his face etched with pain. "Please, don't slip into darkness again," he said, his voice trembling. "I don't expect love from you, but I just want you to be better."

Tears streamed down my face as I looked at Karan. "Karan, I can't do this to him. I can't give him hope that I love him because I just love you. It's better if you go back to the world and let me be here. Please, I love you, Karan!" I sobbed, burying my head in his shoulder, clutching onto him with everything I had.

Karan wrapped his arms around me, holding me tightly as if trying to anchor me in this moment. "Pasho, listen to me," he said softly, his voice soothing. "You have to let yourself heal. Loving me doesn't mean you can't also find happiness again. It's okay to love me and still open your heart to someone else."

"But it feels like betrayal!" I cried, my words muffled against him. "How can I move on when I feel so lost without you?"

"You're not betraying me," he replied gently, tilting my chin up so I could meet his gaze. "You're honouring what we had by allowing yourself to live fully. I want you to find joy, Pasho. You deserve that, and so does Shubman."

"No, please, no!" I pleaded, shaking my head frantically. "I want to be with you! I can't do this without you, Karan. Don't ask me to do something so hard!"

His expression softened, and I could see the deep pain in his eyes. "I know it's difficult, but sometimes the hardest choices lead to the greatest growth. You have to believe that you can find happiness again."

"But it feels impossible!" I sobbed, clutching onto him tighter. "How can I let go of the one person who made me feel alive? You were everything to me!"

"And you were everything to me, Pasho," he said, his voice breaking slightly. "But I don't want to see you trapped in your grief. You deserve to experience love and happiness again. I want that for you."

"I can't imagine loving anyone else," I whispered, my heart aching. "You're irreplaceable."

"You're right, I am irreplaceable," he said with a small, sad smile. "But love isn't about replacing someone; it's about finding new connections that help you grow. I will always be a part of your heart, but you have to give yourself a chance to find new joy."

"It's not fair," I said, tears streaming down my cheeks. "It hurts so much."

"Life isn't fair," he replied, his tone gentle but firm. "But you can find your way through the pain. Let yourself grieve, but don't let it define you. You have a future ahead of you, Pasho, and I want you to embrace it."

I just held onto him, sobbing uncontrollably, not wanting to part as he spoke. "Also, give my love to Paaji. Tell him his biggest fan is still cheering him from the skies," he said with a chuckle, rubbing my back soothingly.

I cried and cried, my heart shattering as I whispered, "Please stay, Karan, please!"

"It's my time to go, Pasho," he replied softly, his voice filled with a bittersweet tenderness. "Be kind, like you have always been. Find love, and start a life. I'll be watching you from above, okay, love?"

"But I don't want to! I can't do this without you!" I cried, my grip tightening around him. "I need you here with me!"

"You'll always have a piece of me with you," he reassured me, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"Goodbye, Pasho. I love you. Your Karan Thappar, the one who rolls his eyes at cheesy romance stories, loves you more than you know. Please take care of yourself." He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss against my cheek, his warmth lingering like a soft whisper against my skin.

As he pulled away, his hands cupped my face for a moment longer, grounding me in that fleeting connection. "No! Don't go!" I pleaded, desperation clawing at my throat. "Karan, please!"

"It's time for me to go," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm against my chaos. With each word, I felt his essence begin to fade, swallowed by the mist that surrounded us. "I'll always be with you."

With a final sob that echoed through the silence, my eyelids fluttered open. The world around me burst into focus, sharp and overwhelming. I was back in my room, the familiar sights and sounds jarring against the serene beauty of the moment I had just experienced.

I took heavy breaths, feeling the dampness of my hair clinging to my tear-streaked face. Turning slowly, I saw Shubman sleeping beside me on the ground, his hands gently holding mine, his face resting peacefully against my stomach.

Turning my body around, I caressed his hair, letting my fingers weave through the soft strands as I remembered Karan's words. "You need to give yourself a chance at love," he had said, urging me to embrace life again.

I reflected on the past few months, and how Shubman had entered my life just when I felt the most lost. He had fought to pull me from my darkness, shining a light in the corners of my heart that I thought would remain forever shadowed.

Shubman had a unique way of breaking through my walls. He wasn't pushy; he was patient and understanding, always knowing when to offer a comforting word or a warm smile. Each moment we spent together chipped away at the sadness that had encased me, allowing warmth to seep back into my life. I could remember the countless nights we spent talking about everything and nothing, sharing our hopes and fears under the soft glow of lamps, where I found solace in his laughter.

I might have said it aloud, but his smile—it was my therapy.