I leaned closer to karl, my voice barely steady.
“Can we go home?” I whispered. “I’m not comfortable in these clothes. Everyone’s looking at me… it feels like they’re only talking about me.”
His jaw tightened. He didn’t answer immediately. His eyes scanned the room—calculating, assessing threats that I couldn’t even see.
Just then—
Bzz.
My phone vibrated.
My heart skipped.
I glanced down instinctively… and froze.
Advik Singhania.
Of all people.
A memory I had buried deep—
Corridors of my school.
Him following me.
Me telling him again and again to stay away.
Him smiling like my words meant nothing.
“I’ll marry you one day, no matter what,” he used to say.
I swallowed.
Before I could react, the phone was no longer in my hand.
Karl had it.
I looked up sharply. “karl—”
He didn’t look at me. His eyes were on the screen.
The muscles in his face hardened, the calm slipping just enough to scare me.
“You forgot,” he said quietly.
My chest tightened.
“That day,” he continued, still calm, still deadly, “when you tried to run barefoot… I told you something.”
I remembered.
Too clearly.
No calls. No messages. No contact without my permission.
“You said you understood,” he added.
“I—” I started, panic creeping in. “I didn’t call him. He called me. I swear.”
Karl finally looked at me.
Not angry.
Worse.
Controlled.
“Who is Advik Singhania?” he asked.
My throat went dry.
“He’s… no one,” I said quickly. “Just someone from my 10th class. I never liked him. He didn’t listen when I told him to stay away.”
Karl’s thumb hovered over the screen.
“He loved you,” karl said, not as a question.
I nodded, ashamed. “Past tense. I never encouraged him. Ever.”
Another buzz.
A message preview flashed.
Karl read it.
I didn’t need to see it to know it wasn’t harmless.
The air around us felt heavy. Dangerous.
“You’re uncomfortable here,” karl said slowly. “Because people are looking at you.”
He leaned closer, his voice dropping so only I could hear.
“But this message,” he continued, lifting the phone slightly, “is why I don’t let anyone reach you without my knowledge.”
I felt small. Trapped.
“And now?” I whispered.
Karl slipped the phone into his pocket.
“Now,” he said calmly, “we’re leaving.”
Relief washed over me—until he added:
“And Advik......won’t contact you again.”
Something in his tone made my heart pound.
I grabbed his sleeve. “karl… please. Don’t hurt him. He’s not important. I don’t care about him.”
Karl stopped walking.
He turned to me fully now.
“You need to understand something, Kavira Elaris,” he said quietly.
“I don’t hurt people because I’m jealous.”
His thumb brushed my knuckles—soft, possessive.
“I hurt them because they forget what’s mine.”
I shivered.
He held my face gently this time, forcing me to meet his eyes.
“And you,” he said, voice lowering, “are going home. Where no one stares. No one talks. No one remembers you exist… except me.”
The party faded behind us.
The night swallowed us whole.
And somewhere deep inside, I realized—
The past was knocking on my door.
And karl…
was not the kind of man who let doors stay open.
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