Main Hoon. Na Now

“Go back, Arjun,” she whispered. “You can’t fix this.”

He didn’t sit beside her. He stood two feet behind, hands in his pockets, breathing still uneven. Not from the run anymore. From the weight of what he was about to say.

“ Main hoon, ” he said quietly. Then, after a pause, softer still: “ Na. ”

And that, for tonight, was a kind of miracle. main hoon. na

“I know,” he said.

“I’m not here to fix you, Kavya.”

She turned fully now, eyes red and swollen. “You never said.” “Go back, Arjun,” she whispered

“ Main hoon, ” he replied. “ Na. ”

“You can’t know.”

“I’m not asking you to stay for hope,” he said. “Or for family. Or for some future that might get better. I’m asking you to stay because right now, in this broken second, I am here . And that has to be enough for the next ten seconds. Then we do ten more.” Not from the run anymore

Now he stood outside the terrace gate of the old Tiwari mansion—her family’s abandoned property. The place she always fled to when the world became too heavy. The gate was unlocked. The staircase was dark.

Main hoon. Na. — I am here. Period. Don’t argue.