I never thought love would come between us. Aman and I—raised as brothers, bound by something deeper than blood. He’s the quiet one, the thinker, the poet who writes under the name Saagar. I’m the one who laughs loud, who runs into fights, who believes in action over words.\n\nTwelve years ago, Dad brought Aman home—disabled, shy, but with eyes that saw too much. Mom and I welcomed him without hesitation. Now, we’re grown. He’s famous. I’m in love.\n\nAnd I didn’t even know I was stealing his life.\n\nI came to Ooty chasing peace, but found Pooja—her smile like sunlight through clouds. She loves Saagar’s poetry. So when Aman introduced me as the poet, I played along. It was easy at first. But now, every poem I ‘write’ feels like a knife in his back.\n\nTonight, I found his notebook. The real Saagar’s words—raw, aching, about a girl he saw in a bookstore, about how he wanted to protect her but couldn’t.\n\nI look at him now, sitting by the window, staring at the stars.\n\n‘You knew, didn’t you?’ I say. ‘That I was pretending.’\n\nHe doesn’t turn. ‘I knew from the beginning.’\n\n‘Then why didn’t you stop me?’\n\n‘Because,’ he says softly, ‘you could give her what I never can.’\n\nMy chest tightens. ‘And what about you? Don’t you want her?’\n\nHe finally looks at me. ‘I do. But wanting isn’t enough, Aakash. Not when the world sees only what I can’t do.’\n\nI clench my fists. ‘Then I’ll make them see.’