The bedroom was too quiet after Rudra left. Ayesha sat on the edge of the bed, fingers tracing the bruise blooming on her wrist — his fingerprint branded into her skin. The silence felt heavier than his rage, because it left her alone with memories she’d buried for three years.

Memories of him — the boy Rudra used to be.

---

Flashback - First Meeting

She was 18, standing at the edge of a crowded college festival, adjusting her simple white dupatta while her friends dragged her toward the stage. Rudra was there — leather jacket, ripped jeans, a cigarette tucked behind his ear, like trouble sent directly from the universe to ruin her good girl image.

He wasn’t her type. Or so she told herself.

But when his eyes found hers across the crowd, something shifted. The world got smaller. And before she could look away, Rudra was in front of her, grinning like he already knew all her secrets.

“Looking for someone, princess?” “No.” “Good. Now you’ve found me.”

It was cocky, cheesy — and for some ridiculous reason, her heart skipped a beat.

---

Flashback - First Touch

Their first date wasn’t really a date. Rudra had dragged her onto his bike after her tutoring class, speeding through empty streets until they reached a quiet hilltop. The city lights stretched below them, and Ayesha clutched his jacket so tightly her knuckles turned white.

“Scared?” he asked, lighting a cigarette. “A little.” “Good.” He blew smoke into the sky. “You should be scared of me.”

But she wasn’t. Not even when he leaned in, tracing his thumb along her cheek before tucking her hair behind her ear. His touch was rough, calloused, but careful — like she was something precious, too fragile to break.

---

Present

Ayesha’s eyes snapped open as the bedroom door slammed shut again. Rudra stood there, still shirtless, glass in hand, but his eyes were darker now — like the flashbacks hit him too.

“Miss me already, wife?” His voice was silk over steel.

She didn’t answer. Instead, she stood, facing him, trying to hold her ground despite her trembling hands.

“Why are you doing this, Rudra?” she whispered. “If you hate me so much, why marry me at all?”

He crossed the room in seconds, backing her against the wall, his palm flat beside her head, trapping her.

“Because hate burns out too fast.” His voice was low, dangerously soft. “But revenge? That lasts forever.”

---

Flashback - First Kiss

They were fighting — again. Ayesha wanted him to meet her parents, to show them Rudra was more than just a boy from the wrong side of the city. Rudra hated the idea, hated the thought of dressing up and proving himself to anyone.

“You’re ashamed of me, aren’t you?” “That’s not true!”

But his jaw clenched, his knuckles whitening as they stood under the rain, and before she could explain, Rudra’s hands grabbed her face and his lips crashed down on hers.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t perfect. It was raw, messy, desperate — and it shattered every wall between them.

---

Present - Forced Proximity

Rudra stepped back, but only enough to grab her wrist again. This time, he didn’t hurt her. He just dragged her toward the bed and shoved her down — not violently, but with a cruel kind of authority.

“You sleep here. Beside me. Always.” Her throat went dry. “Rudra—” “No excuses.” He yanked his belt off, the sound cutting through the silence like a whip, and tossed it aside before dropping onto the bed beside her.

Ayesha curled into herself, trying to create space between them, but Rudra’s arm slid around her waist, pulling her flush against him, her back to his chest. His body was warm, solid, terrifyingly familiar.

“Three years.” His breath was hot against her neck. “Three fucking years I slept alone, dreaming of this body, these curves, this scent. And you think I’m going to let you sleep peacefully now?”

She trembled. Not just from fear — but from something worse. Desire. The traitorous, addictive pull that had always existed between them.

“Don’t touch me if you hate me so much,” she whispered.

He laughed — low, dark, sending chills down her spine. “I can hate you and still want you, Ayesha. That’s the curse you left me with.”

---

Flashback - The First I Love You

They were in his room — tiny, messy, full of books and cigarette smoke. She was sitting in his lap, wearing his shirt, her hair a mess from their kisses.

“I love you,” he said, so soft it was almost afraid. She froze. “What?” “I love you, Ayesha.” And she smiled — that soft, shy smile that ruined him forever. “I love you too.”

---

Present

That smile was gone now. All that was left was silence, tension, and a marriage built on ruins. Rudra’s arm stayed around her waist, his breath even, but she knew he wasn’t asleep.

Neither of them would sleep tonight.

Because when love turns to hate — and hate turns to obsession — sleep becomes the last thing you need.

---

End of Chapter 3