A whole week had passed since that meeting of them

Seven days since Akanksha had stood outside Yogesh's room and listened to the things he had been carrying inside him for so long.

Seven days since she had walked away without giving him an answer.

And somehow, those seven days had been both incredibly busy and unbearably long.

Life had continued as if nothing had happened.

Her calendar was packed.

Shoots in the morning.Interviews in the afternoon.

Brand meetings.

Promotional events.

Photoshoots that sometimes went on until late at night.

There was always someone around her-makeup artists, stylists, photographers, managers, friends.

There was always a camera.Always a reason to smile.And Akanksha did.

She smiled for the pictures.

She laughed during interviews.

She answered questions confidently.

She posted stories.

She interacted with people.

From the outside, she looked completely fine.

But there was one thing she couldn't escape, no matter how crowded her days became.

One name.

Yogesh.

She didn't even deliberately think about him anymore.His thoughts simply appeared.

While someone was fixing her hair before a shoot, she would suddenly wonder-

Did he eat today?

While sitting in the car between two locations-

Is his migraine still there?

While scrolling through her phone before sleeping-

Is he still staying inside that room?

And sometimes, the question that scared her the most would come without warning.

Should I call him?

Her thumb would sometimes stop over his name in her contacts.She would stare at it for a few seconds.

Then lock the phone.

"No."

She would whisper to herself.

"Not yet."

Because she still didn't know what she wanted from him.Or what she wanted from herself.

Whenever someone from their friend circle asked about Yogesh, she tried to end the conversation quickly.

"I need some time."

That was her most common answer.

Sometimes she would add,

"I think I should just move on."

The words sounded convincing when she said them.

Almost.

But deep down, she knew she hadn't.

Moving on wasn't as simple as deciding one morning that she no longer cared.

She was angry with him.

She was hurt.

There were things he had done that she still couldn't understand.

There were questions she hadn't found answers to.

And yet...

She still cared about whether he was okay.That contradiction frustrated her more than anything else.

One evening, after a long shoot, she was sitting in the backseat of her car when she finally gave in and called Rohit.

The call connected after a few rings.

"Hello?"

"Rohit..."

"Haan?"

She hesitated.

"Yogesh kaisa hai?"

There was a pause.

Rohit knew exactly what she was really asking.

"Abhi... theek nahi hai completely."

Akanksha looked outside the window.

"Kya hua?"

"Same migraine. Kabhi kabhi anxiety bhi hoti hai."

Her fingers slowly tightened around the edge of her phone.

"Doctor ko dikhaya?"

"Haan. Subhangi ne appointment liya tha."

"And?"

"Doctor ne medicine di hai."

Rohit stopped for a second.

"Unhone ye bhi bola ki agar anxiety aur panic waise hi rahe, toh psychiatrist se milna chahiye."

Akanksha remained silent.

"Therapy?"

"Haan."

"Toh gaya?"

Rohit gave a small, tired laugh.

"Obviously nahi."

Despite herself, Akanksha smiled faintly.That sounded like Yogesh.Then the smile disappeared.

"Why?"

"Bolta hai medicine se theek ho jayega."

Akanksha looked down at her lap.

She knew that answer wasn't really about medicine.

Yogesh had always been good at convincing everyone that he could handle things himself.Even when he couldn't.

"Rohit..."

"Hmm?"

"Usko... ye mat batana ki maine poocha."

Rohit was quiet for a moment.

"Akanksha..."

"Please."

"Okay."

The call ended.

Akanksha put her phone down and leaned her head against the window.

She didn't know why she had called.

She had told everyone she needed distance.

Yet somehow, even from that distance, she was still keeping track of him.

A few days later, the girls finally managed to have the night they had been planning for weeks.

No work.

No interviews.

No serious conversations.

Just them.

They went to watch a movie first.

Akanksha laughed more that evening than she had in days.During the interval, one of the girls stole her popcorn and Akanksha immediately protested.

"Excuse me! That's mine."

"Ab nahi hai."

"Give it back!"

The others burst out laughing.

For a few hours, everything felt normal.

After the movie, they went for dinner.

They talked about random things.

Someone brought up an embarrassing old incident.Another started teasing Akanksha about one of her recent interviews.

She rolled her eyes.

"You all have too much free time."

"Actually, we have enough time to watch your interviews and analyze every expression."

"Please don't."

They laughed again.

Later, they went on a long drive.

Music played through the speakers.

The windows were slightly open.The city lights passed outside.Akanksha made reels with them, took pictures and posted several stories.

For those few hours, she didn't think about Yogesh.Or at least, she tried not to.But when they finally returned home, the quietness of the apartment brought everything back.

They were sitting together when Subhangi suddenly said,

"Waise, Yogesh doctor ke paas gaya tha."

Akanksha's head lifted immediately even though she knows..she didn't mention it..

"Doctor?"

Subhangi noticed the reaction but didn't comment on it.

"Haan. Appointment liya tha."

"Kya bola doctor ne?"

Her voice was deliberately casual.

Too casual.

Subhangi answered,

"Doctor ne bola ki migraine ke liye medicine le. But unko lag raha tha ki physical health se zyada mental health affect ho rahi hai."

Akanksha's expression changed.

"Matlab?"

"Unhone bola agar medicine ke baad bhi anxiety ya panic jaisa feel ho, toh psychiatrist se consult karna chahiye."

Akanksha lowered her eyes.

"Usne kya bola?"

"Usne therapy ke liye mana kar diya."

She closed her eyes briefly.

Of course.

She wasn't surprised.

But hearing it still hurt somewhere.

The next morning, Akanksha woke up earlier than usual.

For several minutes, she simply stared at the ceiling.Her mind returned to that conversation.

He needs help.

The thought wouldn't leave.She picked up her phone.Opened Yogesh's contact.Stared at his name.

Then opened Instagram instead.

Nothing.

She locked her phone.

Five minutes later, she unlocked it again.She hated how uncertain she had become.One part of her wanted to call him.Another reminded her why she had walked away.

You can't keep taking care of someone who hurt you just because you still care.

That thought made her stop.

She placed the phone aside.

Maybe caring didn't mean she had to go back.

Maybe worrying about him didn't mean she had forgiven him.

Maybe she could still want him to be okay without forgetting what had happened.

But she didn't know how to separate those feelings yet.

A few days later, Yogesh went live on Instagram.

Akanksha didn't join.

She didn't even know about the live until clips started appearing on her feed.

She almost scrolled past.

Almost.

Then she stopped.

She watched one clip.

Yogesh was sitting casually, answering questions.

He smiled.

He joked about something.

For someone who didn't know him, he probably looked fine.But Akanksha watched the clip twice.There was something different.His smile disappeared too quickly.His eyes looked tired.

There were moments when he seemed to lose focus before forcing himself back into the conversation.

She opened another clip.Then another.And eventually she closed Instagram.

"Why am I even watching this?"

She didn't need anyone to answer.

She already knew.

Because somewhere inside her, the question was still there.

Is he okay?

Yogesh, meanwhile, had been trying.

Not successfully.

But trying.

He had gone to the doctor.

He was taking the prescribed medicines.

He had gone live because his friends had encouraged him to do something normal.

"Thoda logon se baat kar. Mind divert hoga," Rohit had told him.

So he had tried.

For the first few minutes, it actually helped.

People asked normal questions.

He answered.

He smiled.

He even laughed once.

Then he made the mistake of opening the comments.The hate came immediately.

Some comments were angry.Some were cruel.

Some simply repeated things he already told himself every day.

He tried to ignore them.But once he had seen them, he couldn't unsee them.His smile slowly disappeared.

Rohit noticed.

"Comments mat padh," he said.

Yogesh didn't answer.

"Yogesh."

"Haan."

"Band kar live."

Yogesh shook his head.

"Bas thodi der."

But his attention had already shifted away from the conversation.The comments kept moving.And with every hateful message, the guilt inside him became heavier.

When the live finally ended, he put the phone down.For several seconds, he simply sat there.Then he rubbed his forehead.The migraine had started again.

Rohit stood near the door.

"Medicine li?"

"Haan."

"Khaya kuch?"

Yogesh didn't answer.

Rohit understood.

"Main kuch leke aata hoon."

"Bhukh nahi hai."

"Bhukh ho ya na ho, kuch toh khayega."

Yogesh gave a tired smile.

"Rohit..."

"Haan?"

"Main theek ho jaunga."

Rohit looked at him.Yogesh said it again, quieter this time.

"Main theek ho jaunga."

But neither of them knew whether he was saying it because he believed it...

or because he desperately wanted to.

The days continued.

Yogesh still spent most of his time inside his room.

Sometimes he came out for a while and sat with everyone.

Sometimes he even laughed at something Gullu said.

But the moment the conversation ended, the silence returned.

He wasn't refusing every attempt to help.

He was simply struggling to accept that he needed it.

The idea of therapy made him uncomfortable.Maybe because accepting help meant accepting that things weren't under control.

And he wasn't ready to admit that.

At night, when everyone else had gone to sleep, he would sometimes sit awake with his phone in his hand.

He would see old photographs.

Old messages.

Old moments.

He would stop himself before going too far.Then he'd put the phone down.

The room would become silent again.

And the same thought would return.

If I had done things differently...But there was no answer to that question.

Only regret.

Only the knowledge that he couldn't go back and change what had already happened.

Akanksha's week continued in much the same way.Work kept her occupied.But the moment she was alone, her mind became loud again.

One evening, she was removing her earrings after returning from a shoot when she noticed a story posted by Rohit.

Yogesh was sitting with the others.

Nothing special.

Just a normal moment.But Akanksha stared at it longer than she should have.She wondered if he had eaten.

Whether his headache was better.

Whether he had slept.

Whether he was still refusing therapy.

And then another thought came.

Maybe I should ask.

She picked up her phone.

Opened Rohit's chat.

Typed-

How is he now?

She stared at the message.

Then deleted it.

Typed again.

Deleted it again.

Finally, she locked her phone.

"Enough, Akanksha."

She whispered.

"You're not responsible for fixing everything."

But another voice inside her answered quietly.No. But you still care.And that was the problem.

She couldn't deny it anymore.

She hadn't forgiven him.

She wasn't ready to forget.

She wasn't ready to return to what they had been.But she couldn't pretend she had stopped caring either.

Maybe forgiveness would take time.

Maybe it would never happen.

Maybe moving on wouldn't mean forgetting him.

Maybe it would simply mean learning to live without needing an answer from him.

She didn't know.And for now, she didn't need to know.

At the end of that week, Akanksha stood by her bedroom window late at night.The city outside was quiet.

Her phone was on the table behind her.

For a moment, she thought about calling.

Just once.

Just to ask-

Are you okay?

Her hand almost reached for the phone.

Then she stopped.

She remembered everything.

The pain.

The confession.

His regret.

Her own anger.

And the strange concern that had refused to disappear.She took a slow breath.

"Not yet."

She didn't know whether she was saying it to herself...or to him.

Across the city, Yogesh sat alone in his room.

His phone was beside him.

The medicine was on the table.

He had promised everyone he would be fine.But somewhere inside, he knew he still had a long way to go.

And neither of them knew what the next week would bring.

Whether Yogesh would finally accept that he couldn't carry

everything alone.

Whether Akanksha would finally find an answer to the question that had been haunting her for seven days.

Whether she would forgive him.

Or whether some wounds simply needed more time before they could even begin to heal.

For now, there was only silence.

Two people thinking about the same past from two very different places.

One trying to escape his guilt.

The other trying to understand whether she could ever look beyond her hurt.

And neither of them was ready to take the next step.

Not yet.

To be continue ....