89

"Excuse me, Miss Trilok? Divyanshi Trilok?" His husky voice resonated, stirring up familiar emotions that had remained dormant all these years. However, he didn't recognize her. It was evident. He would have called her Diya, the name he used to address her.

"Yes," she affirmed her identity, her heart bleeding as it confirmed what his sister had told her years ago. She had denied Divya access to her baby's father, and now, faced with him, she couldn't deny the truth any longer.

An accident had wiped out his memory of their shared phase in life. By the time she tried to reach out, he had already left the country for higher studies on a scholarship. She had no way of confirming the truth then, but she had chosen to believe it, as believing otherwise would have made her even more miserable and felt like a betrayal to their love.

Now, the evidence stood before her in the form of Miss Divyanshi Trilok with a question mark. However, shouldn't there be a gut memory, a fraction of what she w