My Ex - Crush

Episode 71

Deepika's POV:

"Look at that donkey, sleeping so peacefully after making us all go sleepless!" Gayathri said, turning toward Arjun, sprawled on the back seat. His head rested against the window, his jacket pulled tightly around him. He had fallen asleep as soon as the van started moving.

I chuckled faintly, shaking my head. 

"Seriously, Deepika, how are you okay with this asshole throwing shit at you and then going to check on him like he’s some wounded puppy?" Gayathri asked, her voice tinged with disbelief. 

I sank back into my seat, trying to escape the weight of her words. 

I wasn’t okay. I wasn’t anywhere near okay. 

I closed my eyes, leaning my head against the cold window. My chest ached, the kind of dull, constant pain that made it hard to breathe. 

I hadn’t forgotten a single word Arjun had said to me. His voice still rang in my ears, sharp and cold, tearing through me like a blade. He knew how much GRIHA meant to me and he made fun of my grief. He had known my weakest point—my insecurity, the thing I barely even admitted to myself—and he had used it to hurt me. To win an argument. To prove his point. 

I hated him for that. 

I hated him for not being there when I had needed him the most. 

I hated him for breaking me in ways I didn’t even know I could break. 

But as much as I hated him, I couldn’t stop caring. 

I couldn’t see him like this—broken, lost, drowning in disappointment. No matter how much my anger screamed at me to walk away, to leave him to the mess he’d created, my heart wouldn’t let me. 

What was wrong with me? 

I shook my head, letting out a frustrated huff. 

I shouldn’t have gone looking for him. I shouldn’t have thought, even for a second, that he would confide in me. That he would trust me enough to share his pain. 

No, of course not. He had Anusha for that. 

The thought burned. 

"Deepika, are you even listening to me?" Gayathri asked, her voice snapping me out of my thoughts. 

"What?" I muttered, not bothering to hide my irritation. 

"I was saying, do you realize how ridiculous he’s being? He’s sulking because he got a special mention! Like, he scored 99 out of 100 and he’s crying over the one mark he lost. Meanwhile, the rest of us didn’t even pass!" she said, exasperated. 

I stayed silent, staring at the passing hills. 

I understood, though. The pain of failing an exam was one thing, but the pain of missing perfection by a sliver? That could be worse. 

But I kept that nerdy thought to myself. 

The van stopped at a roadside hotel nestled among the hills. Everyone filed out, eager for a meal. Arjun, of course, stayed behind, huddled in his seat. 

We ate parotta and beef, chatting about the convention. When it came time for a group picture, we called for him, but he didn’t show up. 

He ruined that too. 

As I walked back to my seat, I found him still asleep, his face serene, almost childlike. 

I stopped, unable to tear my gaze away. How could someone who had caused me so much pain look so peaceful? How could he sleep so soundly while I stayed awake, reliving every hurtful word he had thrown at me?