(Aarohi Sharma POV)

....

The temperature in the classroom dropped a few more degrees, the winter chill creeping through the glass like an unwelcome ghost. Around me, the rustle of turning pages and the scratching of pencil lead filled the silence. Everyone was frantically trying to solve the complex calculus equations Professor Ayaan Malhotra had scribbled across the blackboard.

I lifted my eyes slightly, my gaze drifting to the front of the room.

He was sitting at his desk, towering broad shoulders slightly sloped as his sharp jawline remained set in a hard, unreadable expression. He was casually reviewing a stack of administrative files, completely detached from the chaos he was causing in my mind.

I stared at him, my mind spinning into a whirlpool of disbelief.

God, Ayaan... how did you change so much?

He wasn't the teenage boy who used to laugh in our living room anymore. His broad shoulders were more filled out, his tailored suit clinging to sculpted biceps, and the dark veins tracing down his forearms looked like something straight out of a Hollywood movie set. He exuded an effortless, suffocating authority.

"He looks ridiculously handsome, doesn't he?"

Ishika’s whisper broke my trance. I didn't even look back as I murmured under my breath, "More than handsome..."

A millisecond later, my brain caught up with my mouth. My eyes snapped wide, and I whipped around to face Ishika, shaking my head violently in denial.

Ishika leaned in way too close, a smug, knowing smirk playing on her lips. "Don't bother lying, Aarohi. I saw the way you were staring at him. Honestly, if you keep burning holes into his face with that look, he’s going to end up with a crater on his cheek."

I blinked, thoroughly confused by her dramatic phrasing. "Are you out of your mind?" I hissed back. "How can staring at someone bore a hole into their face?"

Before Ishika could shoot back another smart remark, a low, smooth, and dangerously sharp voice sliced through the classroom air.

"You. The girl sitting by the window. Stand up."

My entire body went rigid. Slowly, I pushed my chair back and stood up, every single pair of eyes in the room instantly locking onto me.

Ayaan closed the file in his hands with a quiet, authoritative snap and placed it on the podium. His dark eyes locked onto mine, icy and devoid of any recognition.

"Is the problem on the board so simple that you have time for a social hour?"

I swallowed hard, shaking my head. "No, Sir."

"Then why are you chatting with your friend instead of focusing on the mathematics in front of you?"

I cast a quick, desperate glance at Ishika—who was suddenly the picture of academic perfection, scribbling furiously into her notebook as if her life depended on it.

Unbelievable, I thought bitterly. She sets me up and then leaves me to take the fall.

"Will staring into your classmate's notebook reveal the answer to you?" Ayaan’s sharp voice cut through my internal rant.

My head snapped back to him, my jaw dropping in utter shock. "What?"

Ayaan let out a slow, controlled exhale, crossing his arms over his chest. The fabric of his black coat stretched taut across his broad shoulders. "So, I take it you’ve already solved the equation?"

I looked down at my desk. My notebook lay open, displaying nothing but the bare question I had copied down twenty minutes ago. I looked back up at him and quietly shook my head.

He let out a tired sigh, picking his pen back up. "Sit down. Work on the math, not the gossip."

"Yes, Sir," I murmured, my face burning with embarrassment as I sank back into my chair.

Just as my knees touched the seat, his voice stopped me dead in my tracks once more. "Did you not hear what I just said?"

I looked at him, completely bewildered, my voice barely a whisper. "Yes, Sir. I understand."

He gave a curt, dismissive nod, gesturing for me to sit. I grabbed my pen with trembling fingers, forcing my eyes down onto the grid paper.

Beside me, Ishika leaned over, holding both hands up to her ears in an exaggerated gesture of apology, mouthing a pathetic "I'm so sorry."

Her dramatic, cute expression melted a bit of my anger. I let out a soft sigh, giving her a slight nod and a small, forgiving smile.

Suddenly, a strange prickle washed over the back of my neck—that undeniable sensation of being watched. I slowly lifted my eyes from my paper.

Ayaan was staring directly at me. His heavy, unblinking gaze held mine for a fraction of a second before I panicked, dropping my head back down and furiously working through the numbers.

A few minutes later, the loud, blaring chime of the dismissal bell echoed down the hallway.

A wave of relief washed through the room. Students immediately began lining up at the front desk, stacking their completed assignment notebooks on the podium. Ishika quickly placed hers on the pile and turned to wait for me.

It was my turn.

My feet felt like lead as I walked toward the front of the room. The classroom had mostly cleared out, leaving just the heavy silence between us. I reached the podium, carefully setting my notebook on top of the neat stack.

As I turned to walk away, his voice anchored me to the spot.

"Math equations aren't solved through external help, Miss."

I stopped, turning back to face him with a polite nod.

"They are solved using your own mind. Not someone else's," he added, his tone entirely professional, cold, and detached.

I nodded again, forcing a neutral expression. My eyes darted across his face, searching for anything—a slip in his posture, a flicker of warmth, a subtle sign that he knew exactly who I was.

Has he really forgotten me? my mind screamed. Is he seriously treating me like just another random student? Or is this all just a sick, deliberate act?

"What is your name?" he asked suddenly.

I stood frozen for a beat, automatically nodding before realizing he had asked a question.

He raised an eyebrow, his tone dipping lower. "I asked for your name."

I blinked out of my daze, my voice catching slightly. "What?"

He took a slow, deep breath, resting his hands on the podium. "Your name."

"Aarohi. Aarohi Sharma, Sir."

Ayaan gave a simple, single nod of his head.

I stared at him, completely stunned. That's it? A nod? No reaction to my last name? He doesn't know who I am... or is he actually acting like a complete stranger?

Before I could wrap my brain around the sharp pain bloom in my chest, Ayaan stood up, gathering the heavy stack of notebooks into his arms. He looked down at me, his eyes entirely blank.

"Do you have a question, Miss Sharma?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat and shook my head. "No, Sir."

He gave another curt nod, turning to face the few lingering students in the room. "Alright, class dismissed. I’ll see you all tomorrow at the same time."

"Thank you, Sir," the remaining students chorused.

Ayaan offered a polite, distant smile to the room, his eyes brushing past mine one final time before he turned on his heel and swept out the door, his dark coat fluttering behind him.

I stood rooted to the cold floor, staring at the empty doorway. My heart felt hollow, weighed down by a strange, suffocating grief.

He really forgot.

He doesn't remember me at all.

"Aarohi? Are you going to stand there all day?" Ishika's voice broke through the fog in my head. "Come on, let's go back to our seats. The professor is already gone!"

I blinked, turning to face her with a tight, artificial smile. "Right. Coming."

Before following her back to my desk, I took one last, lingering look at the classroom door where Ayaan Malhotra had just walked out of my life for the second time.

He forgot everything, I thought, a bitter, painful realization settling deep inside my bones. Then I need to move on, too. It’s time to bury this stupid, one-sided crush once and for all. It’s better this way... for both of us.

I walked back to my seat by the window, sitting down and staring out at the pale winter sky. A flock of birds flew across the endless blue, free and untethered.

I closed my eyes, taking a long, quiet breath, letting the icy air fill my lungs. A small, bittersweet smile touched my lips.

Maybe this isn't a new beginning, I whispered to myself in the quiet of my heart. Maybe this is just the final chapter of a story that was never meant to be.

I closed my eyes, letting the quiet wash over me.