The Guilt Trap

                                    

                                          
Ritika stood, surprised, as they had been living in the moment until Cann abruptly decided to ruin it by muttering a quick "sorry" and leaving.
Startled, Ritika ran after him. She searched everywhere, even his room, but he wasn’t there. Finally, she found him on the open balcony of the hotel, just outside their rooms. Cann sat on a chair, his face buried in his hands, as if trying to hide from the world.
From a distance, Ritika watched him.
Cann sat there, consumed by regret. What he had done moments ago, something he never imagined he would do—kiss Ritika—played over and over in his mind. The guilt weighed heavily on him.
Ritika quietly approached and knelt beside him, her eyes searching his face.
With gentle, cool hands, she swept her fingers through his hair. Cann looked at her, guilt evident in his eyes.
Ritika noticed his unease, the heaviness between them as their gazes locked in silence.
“What are you sorry for, Cann?” she asked, her voice soft but direct, her eyes holding his.
Cann looked at her, but he stayed silent.
"Why do you look so guilty, Cann?" Ritika’s voice wavered.
Still, Cann said nothing.
“Was it that bad? Was I that bad at it?” Her voice cracked, and tears began to well up in her eyes, spilling onto her cheeks.
Cann remained silent.
“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again,” she whispered, standing to leave, her tears falling freely now.
But before she could walk away, Cann reached out, grabbing her hand. Ritika stopped, turning to face him.
Cann stood, stepping closer to her. Gently, he wiped the tears from her cheeks.
“You weren’t bad, Riti,” he said, lifting her chin so she would meet his eyes.
His fingers traced her lips softly. “It was the best kiss I’ve ever had. It’s the best.”
For a moment, they stood there, staring at each other—Cann, full of guilt, and Ritika, clinging to hope.
“Then why did you run away?” she asked, her voice trembling.
Before she could say more, Cann placed a finger on her lips, silencing her. His other hand found her waist, slipping beneath her shirt to rest on her skin.
Ritika felt the coldness of his touch against her warm skin. She closed her eyes as he pulled her closer, until they could hear each other’s heartbeat in the quiet of the night.
“I’m the bad one, Ritika,” Cann whispered, his voice full of sorrow. “You can’t fall in love with me.”
“But I have, Cann,” she replied, her voice barely audible.
Cann’s hand moved to the back of her head, pulling her into a kiss—deeper, more urgent than before. His lips claimed hers, and he held her tightly, his hands framing her face, as if trying to make the moment last forever.
When they finally pulled apart for breath, Ritika’s eyes remained closed, while Cann’s stared at her, as though he had just committed the most beautiful crime of his life.
Gently, he cupped her cheek as she opened her eyes.
“It was the best kiss of my life,” Cann murmured. “But... stop loving me. I’ll be there for you, always, but not in the way you want. This is my final answer. No more questions now. Go back to your room.”
He stepped back, putting distance between them.
Cann turned and walked away, leaving Ritika standing there, heartbroken. Her first love was slipping away before it could even begin.
She sobbed as she ran back to her room. Cann, hiding behind a wall, watched her go. His heart ached, seeing her cry like that, but he stayed still.
Later that night, after an hour of restless pacing, Cann found her room unlocked. He entered quietly and saw her asleep on the couch, clutching a picture of her parents, her face stained with tears.
He knelt beside her, brushing her hair away from her face, his fingers lightly grazing her cheek.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he whispered.
Carefully, Cann lifted her into his arms, carrying her to the bed. He removed her shoes and opened her jacket before tucking her under a warm blanket. Sitting beside her, he stroked her hair gently, watching over her until sleep overtook him as well.
When morning came, the sunlight filtered into the room, waking Ritika. She blinked at the hand resting beside her, startled until she realized it was Cann's. Her mind replayed the events of the previous night.
“He carried me here,” Ritika whispered to herself. “He cares for me, but he's afraid of falling in love.”
Ritika sat up, smoothing his hair and pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. She carefully removed his hand from her side. Cann stirred, opening his eyes to find Ritika watching him.
“Good morning, Cann,” she said softly.
Cann remained silent, unsure of how to navigate the conversation after everything that had happened.
“It’s okay, Cann. It happens,” Ritika said, offering him a small smile, sensing his unease.
She reached for his hand. “Yesterday was magical. It’s a day I’ll never forget... well, except for the late-night part,” she chuckled lightly.
“Thank you for everything, Cann,” Ritika added, her voice sincere.
Cann smiled and patted her head, but he stayed quiet.
“We need to leave soon,” he finally said. “Our flight is at 11. Get ready.”
As Cann turned to leave, Ritika called after him softly, “Cann...”