Alisha

After a hectic and tense night, I spent the next morning packing my bags for Dip's wedding. My mind, however, was still preoccupied.

I had spoken to Jayant earlier, but something felt... off. Even when I directly asked him about the interview scandal, he didn't mention a single word. That silence-it felt too calm, like the eerie stillness before a storm.

I sighed, looking up at the ceiling, and muttered, "God, please let tonight go smoothly." With a deep breath, I clasped my hands together for a moment before returning to my packing.
The toughest thing to pack? My medicine.

I dialed my doctor to confirm a few things. He instructed me to meet Dr. Roshan Dutta in Delhi for further consultation about my health condition. I frowned at the thought-I had no intention of meeting another doctor. But since Dr. Khurana had already informed Papa about it, there was no chance of avoiding the appointment.

A little later, Saumya arrived to drop me off at the airport-because, as usual, she and Ramya always made sure I had everything I needed while traveling.
As we stood near the terminal, she flashed a big smile, acting like last night's chaos was already behind us. "I've handled things here-you manage things over there," she said, raising her eyebrows in a playful but knowing way.
I understood exactly what she meant.
My heart started pounding-I was about to meet Jayant.
I regularly talked to all my other friends, but when it came to him, things always felt different-deeper.
After hours of travel, I finally arrived in Delhi. The familiar bustle of the city felt both comforting and nerve-wracking.

I spotted Papa waiting for me near the exit. Without a second thought, I ran into his arms, hugging him tightly. After months of distance, his embrace felt like home.

When I reached for my luggage to load it into the car's trunk, Papa stopped me. "I'll do it," he said a little too quickly-like he was hiding something.
His unusual behavior made me curious, and when he wasn't looking, I peeked inside the trunk.
There it was-a bouquet of fresh flowers, carefully tucked away.

I pretended not to notice, keeping my face neutral, but my heart skipped a beat.
Who were the flowers for?
And more importantly-why did Papa want to keep it a secret?

On the way home, I turned to Papa with a playful smile and said, "Papa, you brought something for me, right? Don't tell me you forgot to give it!"

Papa, being his usual self, immediately denied it. "Nope, nothing. Were you expecting something?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

I pouted dramatically and replied, "Nah..." before turning my gaze to the window. It had been four months since I was last home, and I couldn't wait to soak in every familiar detail.

A few minutes later, Papa's car pulled into our Ashiyana Society.
As he parked, he told me to head inside while he handled the luggage. I offered to help, but as expected, he refused again-acting suspiciously protective of the trunk.

I climbed the stairs to Flat No. 117 on the first floor and rang the doorbell.

Sonu, my younger brother, opened the door with the party popper. His little gesture warmed my heart instantly.

"Hey, Motu! How have you been?" I laughed, pulling him into a tight hug.

Still puffing his chest out, he protested, "I'm the same as you left me-but don't call me 'Motu' anymore!" He scrunched his nose in mock annoyance.

I chuckled, tilting my head. "Since when did you start hating that name?" I teased him, raising an eyebrow.

Just then, Papa's voice boomed from behind us. "If you two are done with your reunion, maybe help with the bags, Sonu Saheb?"

Without another word, Sonu ran off to assist him.

I stepped inside, letting my eyes wander around the house. Everything was exactly how I had left it-even my room felt untouched. On one wall hung our family photo, with a large portrait of Maa in the center.

We never put a garland around her picture-keeping her among us like she was still here. It felt wrong to treat her memory like something distant, something separate from our lives.

I had barely been home for ten minutes when the doorbell rang again.

Both Papa and Sonu turned to look at me, silently telling me to answer it. I waited a moment, assuming Sonu would go-but when the bell rang again, I sighed. "Fine, I'm going."

I opened the door to find a young woman-probably around 23 or 24-standing there with perfectly styled hair, wearing jeans and a casual top, and holding a beautiful bouquet of my favorite flowers.

Wait a minute-these are my favorite flowers... and weren't these the ones I saw in Papa's car trunk earlier?

Her face lit up with a bright smile.
"Welcome home!" she said cheerfully.
I raised an eyebrow and leaned against the doorframe. "You're standing at my door and welcoming me home?" My tone was sharp, and I noticed her smile waver slightly.

"Who are you?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

Before she could answer, Papa appeared behind me. "Are you going to interview her at the door, or will you let her come inside?" he scolded me, as if I was the one being rude.

I was stunned. Since when did Papa invite strangers inside so casually?
He grabbed her hand affectionately, pulling her inside while calling her "beta"-a term of endearment that only confused me further.

I sat down on the couch, slowly rubbing my palms together, trying to piece together what was going on. My voice was deliberately slow and pointed as I said, "It looks like you two know each other... quite well."
Papa, now looking far too calm, smiled. "This is Kusum."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh... from our building?"

Papa didn't answer. Instead, he glanced at Sonu, who immediately shifted awkwardly in his seat.

After taking a deep breath, Sonu stammered, "She's... um... she's my... friend."

I didn't miss a beat. "Funny, no other 'friend' of yours ever showed up to welcome me home."

Before Sonu could respond, Kusum cut in confidently, "I'm not just a friend-I'm his girlfriend. That's why I'm here to meet you."

For a moment, I was shocked, but a part of me had already suspected something. I knew he was probably dating someone-he just never had the courage to tell me himself.
And honestly? I felt a strange kind of pride that, while my brother struggled to confront me, his girlfriend had no hesitation in doing so.

I locked eyes with Kusum, studying her carefully. Just as I was about to speak, Papa interrupted with a gentle, yet serious tone.

"Listen, beta... your brother isn't a little kid anymore. He's grown up."

I tilted my head toward Sonu, my voice playful but pointed. "Yeah, clearly. He's all grown up now, isn't he?"

Then, shifting my tone to something lighter, I smiled and said, "I don't have any problem with him having a girlfriend-as long as you don't, Papa."

Papa's booming laugh filled the room. "Me? I have no problem at all!"

We all laughed, the tension melting away. They had clearly expected me to freak out, but my calm reaction had caught everyone off guard.

It didn't take me long to realize that Papa had probably hand-picked those flowers-likely to help Kusum impress me.

And, in the brief time I'd been home, one thing was already clear-Papa and Kusum shared a great bond.

A part of me felt relieved knowing that after I left, there was someone else here-someone besides Sonu-to care for Papa.

Evening was approaching, and I still had to get ready for the reunion party. While I was fixing my hair in front of the mirror, Papa was busy unpacking my luggage.

I watched my reflection carefully, adjusting every little detail. Everything felt normal-until I heard a faint, choked sob from behind me.

I turned around, and there he was-Papa, sitting on the floor, quietly crying.

My heart sank. I knelt down beside him and followed his gaze. In his hands was a bundle of my medicines-the very thing I had tried to keep out of sight.
Without saying a word, I gently took the medicines from him and tucked them back into my bag. Then, wiping away his tears, I pulled him into a tight hug.

We didn't speak, but in that silence, everything was said.

I fought hard to hold back my own tears, but a couple of them escaped despite my efforts.

Just then, Kusum rushed into the room, breathless. "Are you both... crying?" she asked, confusion flashing across her face.

I quickly put on a smile and replied, "No, just a little father-daughter reunion-nothing else."
Without missing a beat, Kusum spread her arms wide. "Then hug me too-I'm your daughter as well now!" she said, laughing, completely unaware of the weight of the moment she had walked into.

Her playful innocence was infectious. We couldn't help but smile as she squeezed herself into our embrace, making the hug feel a little warmer, a little lighter.

Just then, a teasing voice came from the doorway.
"Is this a 'daughters-only' reunion, or can sons join too?"
It was Sonu, leaning against the doorframe with his usual mischievous grin.
I looked at him with mock seriousness. "Aww... jealous, are we?"
He pouted, "Of course! One day home, and Papa's already forgotten about his son."

Before I could respond, Sonu dashed across the room and jumped onto the bed, making it shake beneath his weight.
We all laughed, exchanging warm glances.
No words were needed-just that shared feeling of being together.
Without hesitation, we pulled Sonu into the hug, making it a perfect group embrace.

For a fleeting moment, everything felt... perfect-as if we were a complete family, with nothing missing.

"Alright, enough of this emotional moment-move aside, I need to get ready!" I said, quickly getting up from the bed, brushing off the lingering heaviness in the air.
"Kitna bhi makeup kar lo, bandariya kabhi Sundariya nhi ban skti."
("No matter how much makeup you put on, a monkey can never turn into a beauty queen,") Sonu muttered under his breath, trying to suppress a laugh.

Before he could fully enjoy his joke, Papa playfully smacked him on the shoulder, making both of us chuckle.

Just then, Kusum perked up, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Let me help you get ready!" she insisted. Honestly, I didn't mind, so I let her.

A little while later, I was ready-dressed in a long slit skirt paired with an open-top, layered under a casual jacket. It was just a simple dinner party, after all-no need to go over the top.

Papa walked up to me, his gaze softening. He did his usual ritual-warding off the evil eye-before handing me the car keys.
I hadn't driven in a while, and Papa knew I didn't love driving, but he always insisted that I should never be dependent on anyone to get around.

With a sigh, I took the keys and headed out.

As I pulled out of the driveway, a familiar unease crept in. Driving always made me a little nervous-what if something went wrong? What if an accident happened?
I didn't want to die like that.
If I had a choice, I'd rather die in the arms of someone I love-not behind the wheel, not alone on a deserted road.

Pushing aside those thoughts, I focused on the road ahead. With each passing mile, my emotions swirled-a tangled mess of excitement, anxiety, and something I couldn't quite name-as the lights of the resort grew closer.

..*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

When my results came out, I expected the worst. Low marks meant a guaranteed scolding from Papa. And, of course, I got one. But surprisingly, it wasn’t as bad as I had braced for.

Somewhere deep down, he had realized something—before, I used to study relentlessly, not because I loved learning, but because I needed an escape. It was my way of numbing pain, of distracting myself from the things I didn't want to think about. But now, that pain had dulled. The desperation to bury myself in books wasn’t there anymore.

Jayant, though, wasn’t as understanding. He was visibly upset, frowning at my report card like it had personally offended him. I could see the disappointment in his eyes. But I wasn’t about to let him guilt-trip me, so I threw his own words back at him—the same philosophy he had once given me:
"Marks don’t define you, right? Isn’t that what you always say?"
That shut him up. For now.
Walking into Class 9, Section C, I felt a strange kind of excitement.

This was it—I would finally be in the same section as Jayant.

we had been separated. But this time, things would be different. We would sit together, share notes, and laugh at our silly inside jokes again. And most importantly, he wouldn’t feel guilty about leaving his old friends behind.

But the moment I stepped inside, that excitement vanished.

Jayant was already seated—with Rishi.
I stopped in my tracks, watching them.

They were deep in conversation, Rishi leaning in slightly, whispering something that made Jayant smirk. They looked comfortable, like they had been sitting together forever.

I hesitated, waiting.
Maybe Rishi would move. Maybe he’d see me standing there and get up.
But he didn’t.

He stayed exactly where he was, his body language making it very clear—this seat is taken.
I swallowed down my irritation and forced a smile. "Jayant," I said, motioning toward an empty desk, "let’s sit there."
Jayant hesitated. He looked at Rishi, something uncertain in his expression. Then, after a pause, he stood up and followed me.

But before we could settle down, Rishi walked over.

And in one swift, deliberate move, he shoved the desk aside and dropped himself onto the seat beside Jayant—knocking me straight to the floor.

A wave of laughter rippled through the classroom.

I froze for a second, my face burning, my heart pounding with embarrassment. Then, quickly, I scrambled to my feet, brushing off imaginary dust from my uniform. My eyes snapped toward Jayant.
He wasn’t laughing, but he wasn’t exactly rushing to my defense either.

"Are you seriously not going to say anything?" I demanded. "I kept seat for you, and you—"

Jayant cut me off with a shrug. "That was a Challenge, I won it that's why you kept a seat for me"
His words hit me like a slap.

I blinked, taken aback. "What?"
Rishi leaned back in his chair, looking thoroughly amused. "He’s always sat with me. And he always will."

I crossed my arms, narrowing my eyes. "Last year, he sat with me."
"In Section A," Rishi shot back, smugly. "This is Section C."

The tension between us crackled. We stood there, locked in a silent battle of wills.
And then, just as I was about to say something, another voice joined in.
Someone had been watching the whole scene—and enjoying it.
A boy, sitting a few desks away, grinned and said, "Wait… are you guys seriously fighting over this guy?"
Jayant turned on him instantly. "You stay out of this!"

Ah. So Jayant didn’t like him.

Rishi, however, smirked, seeing an opportunity to end the argument. "Why don’t we just let Jayant decide?" he said. "Let him pick who he wants to sit with."
For a moment, silence.

Then, all eyes turned to Jayant.

He hesitated. I could see it—the flicker of doubt, the slight crease in his forehead. He knew I wanted him to choose me. But he also knew Rishi wouldn’t take rejection lightly.
Finally, he exhaled and said, "Rishi. He need my help for study, so—Rishi."
Rishi groaned. "Wow. So you pick me and insult me in the same sentence. Great."
I didn’t laugh. I didn’t even argue.
I just felt… empty.
And then, I did something I never thought I’d do.

I turned and walked away.

The same boy who had been laughing at our little drama earlier was sitting alone. He was still smirking, watching everything unfold like it was the best entertainment he’d had in weeks.
I marched up to him.
"Can you share your desk with me?"
Before he could answer, Jayant’s voice cut through the air. "You can sit anywhere else. Sit with Rahim."
I didn’t turn around. I didn’t even acknowledge him.
I just stood there, waiting for the boy’s response.
His eyes met mine, a glimmer of amusement in them. Then, he shrugged, leaning back. "Sure."
As I sat down, I turned to him, extending my hand. "I’m Alisha Parmar. And you are?"
He took my hand, shaking it with an ease that made me feel… oddly comfortable. "Dip Ahuja."
"Dip," I repeated, tasting the name.
I didn’t need to look back at Jayant.
I already knew.
He was watching.
And for the first time in a long time… I didn’t care.
~~~
"Are you mad at me?"
Jayant’s voice was casual, almost nonchalant, as he reached into my tiffin and picked up a slice of carrot. He bit into it slowly, his eyes locked onto mine, studying me.
I turned to face him, trying to ignore the way
my pulse quickened at his attention. For a fleeting second, I considered playing along. Maybe I should act upset, let him sweat a little, make him work to earn my forgiveness. But one look at his face—calm, unreadable, yet oddly expectant—was enough to disarm me.

Lying felt pointless.
So, I simply said, "No."

His chewing slowed, and he studied me for a beat longer. "Then why didn’t you sit with Rahim?"
The question landed heavier than I expected. It wasn’t just curiosity—it was a test. He wanted to confirm what he already suspected.

I hesitated, my fingers toying with the edge of my tiffin box. Why hadn’t I sat with Rahim? Why did I walk straight to Dip’s desk instead? I could feed myself a hundred excuses, but none of them would be the truth.
Still, I had no intention of giving him that satisfaction.
So, I plastered on a lazy smile and shrugged. "I liked the view. First row, good vantage point and all."
A weak joke. A feeble attempt to steer the conversation elsewhere. But Jayant wasn’t biting.

He exhaled, tilting his head slightly, as if piecing together a puzzle. "Alisha," he said, his voice lower now, more measured. "My friends are important to me. In any reason, I don’t want to distance myself again."

There it was—the gentle but firm reminder of where I stood in his life. He was making it clear—his friendships came first
I felt something sharp twist in my chest, though I masked it well.
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to sound unaffected. "You came here for your friends…" I hesitated for just a second before adding, "And I came here for you."
Jayant blinked.
His fingers froze mid-air, still holding onto the carrot slice.

For the first time since we started talking, I saw hesitation flicker in his eyes. Like he wasn’t sure what to say.

I smiled, trying to make it seem like a simple statement, like it didn’t mean as much as it actually did. "The classroom is the same now. One day, the desk will be too."

That finally made him chuckle. His shoulders relaxed slightly, and he shook his head with a small, amused sigh. "You’re something else, you know that?"
I tilted my head. "Me? What did I do?"

He controlled his smile, but I could see it lingering at the corner of his lips. "You actually think Rishi’s ever going to leave my side?"
I grinned. "Oh, he will. Just wait and see."
And then, without thinking, I reached for his collar and pulled him slightly closer.
The movement was so sudden that it caught him off guard. His laughter died instantly.
His breath hitched.

For a second, everything around us faded—the noise of the cafeteria, the distant chatter of our classmates, even the soft clinking of lunchboxes opening and closing.

It was just us.

I held his gaze, my fingers still gripping the fabric of his uniform. His eyes searched mine, but I wasn’t backing down.
My voice dropped to a whisper.
"One day, I’ll be your top priority. And when that happens, Rishi won’t have to leave your side."
I leaned in just a fraction closer, my lips barely moving as I spoke.
"Because you’ll come to me on your own."
Silence.
Heavy, charged, thick with emotions we both pretended didn’t exist.

For the briefest moment, it felt like the universe had paused—just for us.

Rahim called out to Jayant, and just like that, he got up without a second thought, making his way toward his group of friends. No hesitation. No glance back.

I sat there, watching as he seamlessly blended into their laughter, their easy camaraderie filling the space around him. They talked animatedly, grinning between bites of their lunch, utterly engrossed in their own world.
And I?
I was stuck on him.

Watching, observing, memorizing the curve of his smile and the way his shoulders relaxed when he was around them.

Time, however, is relentless. It moves forward whether you want it to or not.
As the days stretched into weeks, I found myself falling into a rhythm with Dip, my deskmate.
Surprisingly, he wasn’t as bad as Jayant made him out to be. In fact, I had started to enjoy his presence. He was sharp, sarcastic in a way that made conversations interesting, and though he rarely let anyone in, I could tell he wasn’t indifferent to our growing friendship.

Jayant’s irritation with Dip was something I still couldn’t understand. Maybe it was the way Dip never bowed to social expectations, or perhaps it was the fact that he didn’t have a tightly-knit group of friends like Jayant did. He was an observer, always sitting on the outskirts, silently enjoying the spectacle of school life without ever fully immersing himself in it.

But despite his aloofness, he wasn’t alone. Not really.
And neither was I.

Somewhere between stolen glances and unspoken words, my circle had expanded. Rishi and Rahim, once just Jayant’s friends, had gradually become mine too.
Rishi, in particular, had been the easiest to befriend. All it took was a little help during exams, and he was yours for life. A simple equation. One act of academic mercy, and suddenly, you had an ally who would never let you sit alone.

And Rahim? Well, if you were close to Jayant and Rishi, he was bound to accept you too. That’s just how it worked.

It was strange how friendships formed—not in grand moments, but in small, fleeting interactions. In exchanged notes, shared meals, and inside jokes that built upon each other over time.
And yet, through it all, one thing remained constant.

No matter how much my world expanded, my eyes still searched for Jayant.

Day by day, my feelings for him grew—not in a sudden, overwhelming rush, but in the quiet moments, in the little things he did without a second thought.

Like when we had outdoor game periods, and he would casually hand me sunscreen, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to look out for me. He never chose me as his project partner, yet he always stayed back to make sure I completed mine, guiding me through every difficult part without a complaint.

And then there was that day. The one I’ll never forget.

I had forgotten to bring a sanitary pad.
At first, I didn’t even realize it—I was too caught up in the lesson, too focused on everything else but my own discomfort. But then I felt it, the slow horror creeping in as I noticed the stain blooming on my skirt.

He saw it before anyone else did.
Before I could panic, before the whispers could start, he leaned in and murmured, "Don't move until lunch break." His voice was calm, steady, giving me no room to argue.

Then, while I sat frozen in my chair, he got up and walked straight to the teacher. I watched, my heart pounding, as he exchanged a few quiet words before disappearing out of the classroom. When he returned, he didn’t say anything—just slipped a sanitary pad into my hand as if it was nothing, as if it wasn’t the single most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for me.

And then, as if sensing my hesitation, he unbuttoned his shirt, pulled it off, and gently wrapped it around my waist. "This way, you can walk to the washroom without worrying," he said, his tone casual, but his actions anything but.

From that day on, he always carried a sanitary pad for me. He never mentioned it, never made a big deal out of it.
But I noticed.
And my heart never let me forget.

..*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

After parking the car, I stepped inside the resort. The place was glowing with fairy lights, shimmering in every corner, even though the evening darkness had only just begun to settle.
The crowd was larger than I had expected. I thought Dip had booked the entire resort just for us-but clearly, I was wrong. Whatever.

I scanned the area, eye-searching for Dip, but he was nowhere to be seen. Instead, I spotted Rishi near the bar, casually leaning against the counter with a glass of whiskey in his hand.
I walked over and gave his shoulder a light tap. He turned around, his face lighting up in a mix of excitement and surprise-but within seconds, his expression shifted, like the surprise wasn't exactly a pleasant one.

In a serious tone, he said, "Stop making such romantic gestures with me."
I blinked at him, confused. "What was romantic about that?" I asked, genuinely curious.
"You wouldn't understand," he muttered, shaking his head.

I couldn't resist teasing him. Stepping closer, I raised an eyebrow and said with a mischievous grin, "Did I remind you of someone?, huh.....Saumya"

His face immediately turned a shade of red, and for a moment, he seemed completely speechless.
"You still react the same way you used to when she was just your crush," I laughed softly. "Come on, Rishi, she's your girlfriend now-at least try to be normal about it."

His expression softened as he said quietly, "I'll always treat her like she's my crush."
But then, the playfulness faded from his face, and after a pause, he sighed, his voice low and uncertain. "I just... wonder when this long-distance thing will finally end."
I gave his arm a light squeeze, offering a bit of encouragement. "Don't worry. One day, it will."
Even as I spoke, my eyes kept wandering, scanning the room. I couldn't help it-I was still looking for Dip and Jayant.

Rishi, catching my distracted gaze, finally answered the question I hadn't asked yet. "Dip's making a 'grand entry' with Bhumika later-once everyone's here."
Typical Dip.

Rishi said, “Do you remember Aaransh Khanna?”

I quickly replied, “Who’s Aaransh?”

With a straight face, he said, “The guy you went on a blind date with a year ago—Saumya had set it up.”

That’s when it hit me. “Oh him! He’s a celebrity now, isn’t he?”

Rishi smirked teasingly. “Well, now he’s your boyfriend.”

I froze. “Wait—what? Since when? How? Nobody told me!”

Trying to calm me down, he placed a hand on my shoulder and said, “If you’d checked Saumya’s message, it wouldn’t have been such a shock.”

I immediately unlocked my phone. There it was—Saumya’s message from an hour ago:

“Hey Alisha, remember Aaransh—the guy you went on that blind date with? He’s agreed to be your fake boyfriend. Just remember, you’ve been dating him for a year. If anyone asks, keep it simple—‘We’re just dating, not committed.’ Okay? Enjoy your day!”

As soon as I read it, the words slipped out of my mouth. “That witch!”

Rishi shot back, “She’s helping you and you’re calling her a witch? Seriously?”

I’d forgotten her boyfriend was standing right in front of me. I tried to brush it off. “It’s a girl thing.”

I looked visibly tense, and Rishi picked up on it. “Do you have a problem with Aaransh?”

“It’s not a problem,” I said hesitantly. “It’s just… I don’t know him.”

Rishi narrowed his eyes. “You don’t know him? You went to his house on the first date.”

I gave him a sharp look. “Exactly.”

“Okay, fine,” he said, backing off. “You figure this out. I’m staying out of it.”

He started to walk away but turned back to add, “And hey, try not to drag Saumya into your messes all the time.”

He was genuinely concerned about her.

With nothing else to do, I drifted over to the poolside, leaning against the railing, watching the light reflect off the still water.
I was still waiting-for Jayant.
Meanwhile, Rishi had already immersed himself in managing the party, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the quiet hum of anticipation buzzing in my chest.

The resort sparkled under a canopy of lights, glowing like a dream against the night sky. Tonight was special-our friends' reunion-but my heart was caught up in something else. I was waiting for Jayant.

By the poolside, I stood quietly, watching the moon's reflection ripple across the water. The cool breeze brushed against my face, but my mind was somewhere else. My eyes kept drifting toward the main entrance, hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

"When will he come?" I wondered, my heart pounding a little faster with every passing second.

And then-I heard him.

"Aalu!" he shouted, his voice cutting through the night.

I turned just in time to see him running toward me, his face lit up with that familiar, heartwarming smile.
In a breath, he was standing right in front of me-just like he always did, making everything feel a little brighter, a little better.

He was here. And suddenly, the night felt perfect.

Four months. That's how long it had been since I last saw him. And now, as Jayant stood in front of me, smiling like nothing had changed, my heart betrayed me-racing, aching, longing.

Seventeen years of friendship. Seventeen years of laughing at his stupid jokes, of standing beside him through everything, of hiding the way my heart had belonged to him all along. And he had no idea.

Without a word, he pulled me into his arms, lifting me effortlessly-as always, since my height was no match for his.

I wanted to stay there forever. To press pause, to let myself believe, even for just a moment, that I meant more to him than just a best friend. But reality was cruel. Before I could even hold on, he threw me straight into the pool.

I gasped, my body hitting the cold water, but the real sting wasn't from the temperature-it was from him. From the way he laughed at my reaction, completely unaware of how much I had missed him. Unaware of how deeply I loved him.

"You idiot!" I glared at him, pushing my wet hair back. "What was that?"
He leaned casually against the pool's edge, his smirk playful, his voice teasing.

"Punishment-for ignoring me for four months. And don't think it's over yet. There's more to come."
Punishment. If only he knew how much I had punished myself by staying away.

I climbed out, wrapping my arms around myself, And storming toward my room to change. But as I reached for a towel, I sensed him right behind me. Without a word, he took the towel, wrapped it around me, and led me toward the room.
Once inside, he handed me a dress-clearly a gift, since my previous one was soaked because of him. I gave him an unimpressed look before heading into the bathroom to change.

When I stepped out, towel-drying my damp hair, he took the towel from me, gently rubbing my hair dry himself. His voice was low, serious, and filled with an emotion I wasn't ready for.

"You have no idea how much I missed you," he murmured.

I let out a quiet scoff. "Missed me? Shreya was with you 24/7. I doubt you even had the time to miss me."

His hands stilled for a moment, but I kept going. "I don't like her, and she doesn't like me, so why would I bother disturbing you two? Love birds, Hmm... Besides, I was busy with my own life."
I met his gaze, challenging, waiting for a response.

***...***

He broke the eye contact first, a lazy smirk curling his lips as he said in a playful tone, "I'm stuck between two wildcats-one's a well, the other's a pit. Either way, I'm doomed."
And just like that, he went back to fixing his cuff, as if my words meant nothing. As if I meant nothing.

I kept watching him-waiting. Hoping.
Why doesn't he ever understand the language of my silence? Or maybe... he simply doesn't want to.

I turned my face away, forcing my heart to harden. Staring into the mirror, I said in a cold, detached voice, "Well, you're the one who jumped into this"
Without missing a beat, he replied, "Stop throwing jabs at me. Everyone's waiting outside."

His voice was lighter, but there was an edge to it. A warning. And then-just like always-he started to pull away.
He moved toward the door, pausing there with his back to me. "Come on," he said over his shoulder, waiting.
But I couldn't move. Not yet.

I need to let go.
I lowered my gaze to my hands resting in my lap, my knuckles turning pale as I clenched them together. Why do I keep coming back to him? Why do I return-even when my heart aches with a thousand unspoken complaints?

I should stop.
I should stop caring, stop trying, stop waiting.

Jayant is happy with Shreya-and I? I should leave. For good.

The only thing left to decide is... do I walk away quietly, or do I tear everything apart on my way out?

With thousands of thoughts swirling in my mind, I finally stood up and walked toward Jayant.
He was still leaning against the door, hands tucked casually in his pockets-like nothing had happened, like my heart wasn't aching with every step I took toward him.

Without a word, I followed him out.
The cool evening air brushed against my skin, but it did nothing to calm the storm inside me.
I should let go.
I should stop caring.
But despite everything, here I was-walking beside him again.

••°°••°°••°°

🫶 Thank you For reading