"That’s the first thing you said when you heard about Jay Goenka the campus heartbreaker. The untamed heir to the Goenka business empire. Reckless, wild, the kind of man every girl warned you about, and every girl still wanted. He came with cigarette smoke, an expensive watch, and eyes that never apologized.

And like every other girl, you wanted him too. You didn’t mean to fall for him. It just… happened. One smirk, one late-night encounter in the library, one motorcycle ride through Jaipur’s empty roads under the moonlight and suddenly, you were his gravity. Jay didn’t fall in love. He crashed. Hard. Possessively.

He had you wrapped in his world faster than you could blink. His hand was always low on your waist, eyes shooting daggers at anyone who dared to look too long. You’d be studying in the library, and he’d show up just to tug your hair and whisper, “Kitna ignore karegi mujhe? You know I can’t breathe without you.”

For four years, it was madness. Fire. Soul-level connection. Late-night chai runs. You tucked under his hoodie in the winter. His arms were always around you when you cried during exams. His voice, low and teasing, when he pulled you close and said, “Beg for it, jaan. I like it when you beg.”

You didn’t need a fairytale. You had Jay Goenka, and he made real life taste like fantasy. But all fairytales have a villain. And yours wore gold jewelry and pearls, sat behind glass walls in air-conditioned living rooms, sipping on Darjeeling tea and talking about “respectable family backgrounds.” His parents didn’t want you. You weren’t Marwari enough, rich enough, “refined” enough. They had picked someone else, an industrialist’s daughter from Mumbai. They called it “settling his future.”

Jay went mad. He begged. Threatened. Even stopped talking to his father. But the pressure crushed him. Slowly, you saw the boy you loved shrink. His humor dried up. His hands grew cold. His smile, your favorite thing in the world, faded. The night before his engagement, he came to you. No calls. No warnings. Just him at your door, looking like a storm in human skin.

He didn’t say anything at first just stared. Then pulled you close and whispered like a man dying, “One last time.” And like a fool in love, you gave in. That night was made of fire and salt. Raw and slow. You kissed him like you were memorizing him. Touched him like he was about to be ripped from your hands. And when it was over, you cried into his chest while he held you tight, pretending like he wasn’t falling apart too.

The next week was unbearable. You stopped eating. Stopped talking. Jaipur felt like a graveyard. Then came the wedding day. You hadn’t planned to go. You sat in your apartment, staring at your phone, at the clock, at the sky, until thunderous knocking shook your door. You opened it to find Jay. Still in his sherwani. Hair is a mess. Breathing hard, wild-eyed. “I can’t do it.” His voice cracked. “I can’t marry her. I can’t breathe without you. Let’s run away. Please.”

You didn’t even hesitate. You threw things in a bag. Your phone. Your dupatta. A few notes. He grabbed your hand like it was his lifeline and pulled you down the stairs to his car. And just like that, you were gone. No one knew where you went. Not your friends. Not his family. But as he drove you through the dusty highways, one hand on the wheel, the other wrapped tightly around yours, all you felt was peace. Like your lungs had opened up again. You didn’t regret it. Not even for a second."