Meera's POV
I ran.
That's all I could do.
Run.
Away from him.
Away from that room.
Away from what I almost did.
My feet carried me down hallways I didn't recognize.
Past doors I'd never opened.
Past windows showing a world I'd forgotten existed.
I didn't know where I was going.
Didn't care.
Just away.
Anywhere but there.
---
I found a door at the end of a corridor.
Pushed it open.
Another bedroom.
Smaller than his.
Unused.
Dust on the surfaces.
I locked the door behind me.
Slid down to the floor.
Pressed my back against the wood.
And shook.
My hands were trembling.
My whole body was trembling.
I looked down at them.
These hands.
The same hands that had torn at his shirt.
That had touched his chest.
That had been ready to do things I couldn't even name.
What was wrong with me?
---
I sat there for a long time.
Minutes.
Hours.
I didn't know.
The room grew darker as the sun set.
Shadows crept across the floor.
I didn't move.
Couldn't.
My mind kept replaying it.
His words.
*If fuck is all you need, I'll give it to you.*
My response.
*Yes.*
My hands on him.
Desperate.
Needy.
Destroyed.
I had agreed to let him use me.
Had begged for it without words.
Had offered myself up like a sacrifice to stop the pain.
That wasn't me.
That couldn't be me.
---
I grew up protected.
Cherished.
Taught that my body was sacred.
That it was a gift to be given to someone who loved me.
Someone who chose me.
Someone who would cherish it the way my parents cherished each other.
I was supposed to wait.
Supposed to save myself.
Supposed to give this gift only when it meant something.
And I almost threw it away.
For nothing.
For a moment of escape.
For a chance to stop feeling.
Because a man said cruel things and I wanted to hurt myself in response.
What kind of person does that?
What kind of girl becomes that?
---
I crawled to the bathroom.
Found a mirror.
Turned on the light.
And looked at myself.
Really looked.
The girl staring back was a stranger.
Red eyes.
Swollen cheeks.
Mascara streaked down her face.
Hair a mess.
Lips still slightly bruised from where his jaw had pressed into them.
But underneath the damage.
Underneath the wreckage.
Was the same girl.
The one from Chennai.
The one who studied too hard.
Who missed her mother's cooking.
Who called her parents every Sunday without fail.
The one who had never been touched.
Never been kissed.
Never been wanted.
Until him.
---
I touched the mirror.
Fingertips to glass.
Tracing the outline of this stranger's face.
"What happened to you?"
No answer.
Of course not.
Mirrors don't talk.
They just show you what you've become.
And what I'd become was someone I didn't recognize.
Someone who let a man's words define her.
Someone who let her body's awakening destroy her judgment.
Someone who almost gave everything away because she was hurting.
---
I thought about my mother.
Her voice in my head.
*Be careful with your heart, kanna. It's the only one you have.*
*Don't let anyone take pieces of it unless they deserve them.*
*Your body is a temple. Don't let anyone desecrate it.*
I had almost desecrated it myself.
Had almost walked into that temple and burned it down.
Because Ethan made me feel things.
Because Ethan made me want things.
Because Ethan made me forget who I was.
But who was I?
Really?
Without him?
Without this house?
Without these feelings I didn't understand?
---
I sat on the bathroom floor.
Cold tiles against my skin.
Leaned against the cabinet.
Stared at the ceiling.
And tried to remember.
Meera before Ethan.
The girl who woke up every morning with a plan.
Classes.
Library.
Grocery store.
Phone call home.
Sleep.
Repeat.
Simple.
Safe.
Lonely.
Yes.
But safe.
No one could hurt her there.
No one could make her feel things she didn't understand.
No one could make her forget herself.
---
Was that better?
Being safe but empty?
Or was this better?
Feeling everything but losing myself?
I didn't know.
Didn't have answers.
Didn't have anyone to ask.
My mother was thousands of miles away.
My father would die if he knew where I was.
My friends—if I had any—wouldn't understand.
I was alone.
Completely alone.
In a monster's house.
With feelings I couldn't name.
And a heart that was breaking.
---
A knock on the door.
Soft.
Tentative.
"Meera."
Him.
Of course.
I didn't answer.
Didn't move.
"Meera, I know you're in there. I tracked your phone."
Of course he did.
Of course he had ways.
"I'm not coming out."
"I know."
"Then go away."
"I can't."
"You always say that."
"Because it's always true."
I closed my eyes.
Pressed my palms against them.
Tried to make the world disappear.
"I'm not going to break down this door. I'm not going to force you. I'm just going to sit here. On the other side. For as long as you need."
"Why?"
"Because you shouldn't be alone right now. Not after what happened. Not after what I did."
---
I heard him slide down.
Settle against the door.
Just like before.
In his bedroom.
When everything was simpler.
When I still thought I could trust him.
"The things I said—"
"Don't."
"I need to—"
"I said don't. I can't hear your voice right now. I can't hear apologies or explanations or any of it. I just need silence."
He was quiet.
For a long time.
Then softly.
"Okay."
---
We sat like that.
Him on one side.
Me on the other.
Wood between us.
Worlds between us.
The same position as before.
But everything different.
Then, I was confused but hopeful.
Now, I was broken and empty.
Then, I thought he might be my future.
Now, I didn't know if I had a future at all.
"I almost let you."
My voice was small.
Quiet.
His breath caught on the other side.
"I almost let you use me. I almost gave you everything. Not because I wanted to. Not because I was ready. Because I was hurting and you made me feel like that's all I was good for."
"Meera—"
"I said silence."
He stopped.
---
Minutes passed.
More.
I don't know.
"I was going to destroy myself because of your words."
Quiet.
"That's what happened in there. Not lust. Not desire. Self-destruction. You called me those things and some part of me believed you. Some part of me decided that if that's what I am, I might as well be it. Fully. Completely. Irrevocably."
"Meera—"
"You were right to stop me. Not because you wanted to protect me. But because if you hadn't, I would have woken up tomorrow hating myself. Hating you. Hating everything."
Silence from his side.
"Heavy.
Final.
"And I don't know if I can forgive you for making me feel that way about myself."
---
The words hung in the air.
Poisonous.
True.
I heard him breathing on the other side.
Ragged.
Broken.
Good.
Let him hurt.
Let him feel some fraction of what I felt.
"What do you need?"
The question was quiet.
Desperate.
"What do you need from me? Tell me. Anything. I'll do it."
"I need to go home."
Silence.
"My real home. Chennai. My parents. My life before you."
"I can't—"
"You said anything."
"I meant anything but that."
"Then you didn't mean anything."
---
He didn't respond.
Couldn't.
Because I was right.
His anything had limits.
His freedom had conditions.
His love had chains attached.
"I need to not be here. I need to not be near you. I need to remember who I am without you telling me who I should be."
"And if you can't?"
"Then I need to try. Alone. Away from here. Away from you."
More silence.
Longer this time.
Then quietly.
"I'll arrange it."
I blinked.
"What?"
"A flight. Papers. Whatever you need. I'll arrange it."
"You're lying."
"No."
"You'll lock me in. Like always. Say one thing and do another."
"No. Not this time. Not after what I did. Not after what you almost—" He stopped. Swallowed. Audible through the door. "I'll arrange it. You can leave. Whenever you're ready."
---
I didn't believe him.
Couldn't.
But some small part of me wanted to.
Wanted to believe he could let me go.
Wanted to believe he loved me enough to release me.
Even if it killed him.
Even if it killed us.
"I don't know when I'll be ready."
"Take all the time you need."
"And I don't want to see you. Not until I leave."
More silence.
Then brokenly.
"Okay."
"I mean it. Not at meals. Not in hallways. Not anywhere. I can't look at you right now without seeing what I almost became."
"I understand."
"Do you? Do you really?"
"No. But I'll try."
---
I heard him stand.
Slow.
Reluctant.
His voice through the door.
One last time.
"I love you, Meera. Even if you never believe it. Even if you leave and never come back. Even if you spend the rest of your life hating me. I love you. And I will spend the rest of mine trying to be worthy of that love. Even if you're not here to see it."
Footsteps.
Fading.
Gone.
I sat alone in the dark bathroom.
Stared at the stranger in the mirror.
And wondered if I would ever find my way back to myself.
---
The next days were strange.
Quiet.
Empty.
I stayed in that small room.
Ate when food appeared outside the door.
Slept when exhaustion took me.
Stared at walls when I couldn't sleep.
Thought about everything.
Thought about nothing.
Slowly.
Piece by piece.
I started to remember.
Who I was.
What I believed.
What I wanted.
Not him.
Not this.
Not yet.
Maybe not ever.
I needed to go home.
Really home.
Chennai.
Amma's kitchen.
Appa's quiet pride.
The small flat with the noisy neighbors and the temple bells in the morning.
I needed to remember that girl.
The one before Ethan.
The one who didn't know what lust was.
The one who was safe in her own skin.
---
On the fourth day, an envelope appeared outside my door.
Documents.
Flight itinerary.
Passport.
Money.
A note in his handwriting.
*Fly when you're ready. No guards. No tracking. No conditions. I meant what I said. - E*
I stared at it for a long time.
At the proof.
He was letting me go.
Really letting me go.
The monster had kept his word.
The man had released me.
I didn't know what to feel.
Relief?
Grief?
Confusion?
All of it.
None of it.
---
I packed the few things I had.
The clothes he bought.
The dress from my birthday.
The silly oversized sweater from my dorm that someone had retrieved.
I left everything else.
His house.
His world.
His love.
At the door, I paused.
Looked back one last time.
This place had changed me.
Broke me.
Almost destroyed me.
But it also woke me up.
Showed me things about myself I never knew.
Made me feel things I never thought I could feel.
I didn't know if that was good or bad.
Didn't know if I was grateful or resentful.
Didn't know anything anymore.
---
A car waited outside.
Driver silent.
Respectful.
He drove me to the airport.
Didn't speak.
Didn't ask questions.
I sat in the back.
Watching the city disappear.
Watching his world shrink in the distance.
Watching myself become someone else again.
At the airport, I walked through security.
Boarded the plane.
Found my seat.
And as the plane lifted off.
As India grew closer.
As Chennai waited.
I finally cried.
Not for him.
Not for us.
For me.
For the girl I was.
The woman I was becoming.
The person I almost lost.
And somewhere, miles below, in a house I hoped to never see again, a monster sat in the dark.
Watching my plane disappear.
Holding the ghost of me in his hands.
Loving me enough to let me go.
Hating himself enough to survive it.
And wondering if love was always this painful.
Or if he had just done it wrong.