📜 Prologue: The Rain on the Rooftop

Four Years Ago

The night air on the confined rooftop apartment was cold, thick with the scent of approaching rain, probably an impending thunderstorm.

Inside the small room, paper sheets, study notes, and business management textbooks lay scattered across the wooden low table. In the center of it all sat a cheap, worn-out black-braided leather bracelet, resting beside two untouched mugs of coffee.

Abhimanyu Rathore stood near the small window; his hands shoved deep into his coat pockets. His dark eyes were fixed on the rugged mat spread on the floor; his jaw clenched so tightly the muscles in his cheek twitched.

"Abhimanyu... what are you talking about?"

Ira's voice was barely a breath, trembling as she stood by the doorway, her umbrella slipping from her numb, trembling fingers and clattering against the floorboards. She had rushed straight from her university library, her heart light with the news that she had passed her senior evaluations and was officially entering Singhania Enterprises as an entry-level employee next week.

She had come here to celebrate with him. Instead, she had walked into a wall of suffocating ice.

"I said, we're done, Ira," Abhimanyu said. His tone was unnaturally flat, devoid of the warmth, laughter, and devotion that had filled her life for the past two years.

Ira took a step forward, her chest heaving as a cold panic seized her throat. "Why? Out of nowhere? Just like that? We were fine yesterday! You held my hand and told me—"

"Yesterday was a mistake," Abhimanyu interrupted, turning slowly to face her. He forced his features into a rigid, emotionless mask—a mask that cost him every ounce of soul he possessed. "You're entering your father's firm now. You're climbing a ladder. And looking at you... looking at where you're heading... I realize you're just going to hold me back."

Ira flinched as if he had struck her across the face. Her lips parted, a sharp gasp escaping her chest. "Hold you... back?"

"I don't have time to play house in a rooftop room anymore," Abhimanyu lied, his voice dropping into a harsh, cruel monotone designed to break her lingering hope into thousands of sharp, piercing pieces. "You're too soft, Ira. You care too much, you feel too much, and you expect me to sit around waiting for you while you try to prove yourself to your father. I'm done. Don't look for me. Don't call me."

He picked up the black-braided leather bracelet from the table and his duffel bag from the corner of the room, slinging it over his broad shoulder, and walked toward the door.

"Abhimanyu, wait!" Ira choked out, reaching out to grab his sleeve, her tears finally overflowing and burning down her cheeks. "Please... don't do this... don't leave me like this!"

Abhimanyu stopped at the threshold. For a split second, his dark eyes flickered towards her hand gripping his sleeve, an agonizing tremor passing through his fingers. He wanted nothing more than to drop his bag, pull her into his arms, wiping away her tears, and swear that he would never let anyone harm her.

"If I don't break her heart tonight...", her father, Mr. Aakash Singhania's dark words and warnings echoed in his mind, "...Malhotra Industries will drag her into the mud before she even gets a chance to stand. They will strip her of her future before she even starts."

Abhimanyu swallowed the bitter, metallic taste of blood as he bit the inside of his cheek. He pulled his arm away from her grip—cold, swift, and absolute.

"Forget me, Ira," he whispered without looking back, desperately trying to control the tears that were threatening to fall out of his eyes at any moment now. "Grow up."

He stepped out into the pouring rain, the heavy metal door slamming shut behind him.

On the cold floor inside, Ira sank to her knees among the scattered papers, clutching her chest as a ragged and harsh sob tore through her soul. That night, amidst the storm, the warm, bright girl who loved with her whole heart died in that rooftop room. In her place, an impenetrable armour of ice began to freeze over her heart.

And out in the dark alleyway, completely soaked by the dismal rain, Abhimanyu leaned against the brick wall, pressing his hand over his mouth as his own tears mixed with the rain, sobbing in silent agony for the sacrifice he had just made.

"Wait for me, Ira", he whispered into the storm, staring up at the dimly lit window of the rooftop room in which Ira is sobbing right now, for one last time. "I will build myself into someone who can protect you. I will come back as your shield."

***

With Love❤️,

Ms. H.