The late afternoon sun streamed through the dusty windows of the Commerce Department, painting golden lines across Poornima Chowdary’s notebook. Her pen moved quickly, scribbling account formulas, though her mind wasn’t in class—it was somewhere else.

Her phone buzzed on the desk.

“Meet me at the bar tonight. 8 PM. — Simon”

Her heart skipped a beat. Simon Roy.

The man who made her believe love could be magic. The man she thought would one day become her forever.

A soft smile curled on her lips. Maybe it’s a surprise, she thought. Maybe tonight he’ll say something special. Something that would make all her doubts disappear.

When the bell rang, she packed her things, tucked her phone close to her heart, and stepped out. The Mumbai sky was already dimming, painted with neon lights and noise. She took a cab, heart fluttering with nervous excitement.

---

The bar was alive with laughter, music, and the smell of whiskey.

Poornima walked in, dressed simply—white top, denim, and her favorite perfume, the one Simon once said he loved. Her eyes scanned the crowd, searching for him.

And then she froze.

In the corner booth, Simon was there—his arm wrapped around another woman. Her name slipped through his lips like poison—“Ethopia.”

Poornima’s breath caught. Her fingers trembled as she watched him lean close, his voice low, his smile sharp.

> “Poornima? She’s just timepass,” he laughed, kissing Ethopia’s neck.

“You’re the one I’ll marry.”

The words hit her harder than any bullet could.

Her world shattered in silence.

Tears blurred her vision, but she didn’t make a scene. She didn’t scream, didn’t demand answers. That wasn’t Poornima.

She simply turned away—heart breaking, soul splintering—and walked out into the Mumbai night.

The sound of laughter faded behind her, replaced by the soft rhythm of her tears hitting the pavement.

That night, something inside her died quietly.

The girl who believed in love was gone.

And somewhere, in the dark alleys of the same city, Veeresh Deewan—the man who didn’t believe in love at all—was about to cross paths with her.