“What if I can’t?” she whispered.
The rain had stopped three hours ago, but the world still smelled of wet earth and rust. Arjun leaned against the crumbling wall of the abandoned bus shelter, his reflection a ghost in the puddle at his feet. The last bus had left at midnight. It was now 2:17 a.m. main hoon. na
He didn’t rush to hug her. He didn’t say everything will be okay . He simply took off his jacket—wet, torn, useless—and laid it over her shoulders. “What if I can’t
“Then I’ll carry the ‘can’t’ for both of us. Until you can borrow some back.” main hoon. na