The bar was drowning in noise.

Laughter. Loud music. Glasses crashing against tables.

But none of it could silence her voice inside his head.

He sat alone near the counter, lazily spinning the ice in his drink, eyes tired from sleepless nights and memories he could never bury.

One and a half years.

Eighteen months since the breakup.

Eighteen months since he last saw Aanya Malhotra.

Still, he remembered everything about her.

The way she laughed during arguments.

The way she hated chocolate ice cream but still stole bites from his cup.

The way she once promised him,

“Even if we stop talking someday… you’ll never stop loving me.”

Back then, he had laughed.

Now it haunted him.

His phone buzzed against the table.

He ignored it.

Then it buzzed again.

And again.

Annoyed, he picked it up — only for his heartbeat to stop.

Aanya Malhotra

For a second, he thought he was drunk enough to hallucinate.

But the messages were real.

Do you miss me?

Another one appeared instantly.

I miss you a lot.

His fingers tightened around the phone.

Then came the message that completely shattered him.

Did you forget today is my birthday?

He closed his eyes briefly.

No.

He never forgot.

He remembered every birthday. Every promise. Every scar she left behind.

The typing bubble appeared again.

Can you sneak into my room tonight?

He stared at the screen silently.

His mind screamed not to go.

Their breakup had been ugly.

Painful enough to destroy both of them.

After that night, she vanished from his life completely.

No calls.

No texts.

Nothing.

Until now.

Another message appeared.

Please… just this once.

The music around him faded into emptiness.

Somewhere deep inside, the version of him that still belonged to her slowly won the battle.

He typed back after almost a minute.

Which room?

Her reply came immediately.

306.

Come before 11:30.

I’ll wait for you.

A strange feeling settled in his chest.

Heavy. Uneasy.

Like something was terribly wrong.

But love had always made him stupid when it came to her.

He threw money onto the counter, grabbed his jacket, and walked out into the cold midnight rain —

Unaware that by sunrise,

Aanya Malhotra would be found dead inside her PG room.

And the messages on her phone would turn him into the prime suspect of her murder.