They say heartbreak breaks you once, but watching someone you love break over and over again—that shatters you silently.

Hardik Pandya was everything the world dreamed of being: an all-rounder in the Indian Cricket Team, a billionaire adored by billions, a man who once lit up every stadium he walked into. And yet, the night after his wedding—the night dreams are supposed to begin—his world collapsed like a house of cards.

“I don’t know how to breathe anymore,” he whispered to you that night over the phone, his voice shaking like the glass he dropped earlier. “I married her thinking I found my home… but she was just passing by.”

It was 3:17 AM. You didn’t hesitate. You drove to his house, found him curled up in a corner of his living room, still in his wedding sherwani, eyes red, hands trembling.

“She used me,” he said again and again, like if he said it enough, it’d hurt less. “She never loved me… just my fame, my bank account. Four years—was it all fake?”

You sat beside him. No words. Just silence and the kind of presence that screams louder than comfort ever could.

Days passed. Then weeks. The divorce came quicker than you thought. His name started trending for all the wrong reasons. His performance dipped. Boos echoed louder than cheers. Social media turned from praise to poison.

Every time he walked onto the field, he could see the weight on his shoulders. Not just the team’s expectations—but a heart that was still bleeding.

He knew you loved him. He wasn’t blind. But love isn’t always loud. Yours was quiet—there in every text reply at 2AM, every cup of coffee when he couldn’t sleep, every match you watched from the stands praying he’d smile again.

But he couldn’t move on. Not yet.