Who said a single string of words can't bring you back to your past.
It can.
Everything seemed to stop when he uttered those words, the ones that still haunt me, chasing me through the darkness of my nightmares whenever someone mentions them.
Marriage and love.
He didn't say the latter, and for that, I'm thankful. But that doesn't mean the one he did say doesn't thrust me back into my past—back to him.
Those words haunt my nights, turning them sleepless, where I can't help but think of him repeatedly, chanting 'it's over' like a mantra. No matter how much I resist, since that café incident, my mind is filled with his thoughts, his words, his behavior, his very existence.
He said all those pretty things, didn't he? But that's not how you behave with someone you love.
There must be something wrong with me. How can I still think about him when he's gone? He's not a part of my life anymore, or maybe he never was. Because a part of me thinks it still matters, but another part tells me it was inevitable.
But could he do that to me?
To us?
No, don't go there.
It's the third day and I'm still thinking about the proposal. ever since I walked out of the café that day, I told him I needed some time to think. I never knew I would be overthinking about that.
I was pretty shocked when he suddenly said 'let's get married.' Honestly, if I had not been sitting at that time, I would have definitely fallen down due to shock.
It's not because he asked, it's because what he asked.
The sound of the alarm clock jolted me back to reality. Grabbing the phone from the bedside table, I checked the time: 7:00 am. That's when I realized I hadn't slept all night.
Again.
Rubbing my face with my hands, I straightened up and adjusted myself to sit properly, leaning against the headrest for support. The pain in my head intensified, and I instinctively pressed my forehead tightly with my hands. "Not now," I whispered, my voice breaking from the pain.
Few minutes later, the pain seems to reduce a little and I decide to take a warm shower. Walking towards the closet. I picked out a simple sleek-long black dress.
Turning the faucet on, I walked in. after taking my time in pampering myself with body products, I walked out, draping myself in a bathrobe. Holding up the dryer, I blow dried my hairs, after that I started to do my skin care.
At least this feels good.
Whenever I'm feeling low, all I do is took a long shower and pamper myself like this; skincare and get dressed.
Gently patting my cheeks, I headed towards the closet. Feeling weary today, a black dress seemed to mirror my mood. Slipping into the long black dress, I fastened the straps of my heels. Ignoring the jewelry, I walked out.
My steps halted when I saw Bruno enter the room. He had been pacing around a lot lately. He seemed to be in a bad mood, mirroring my own. Sometimes, he would walk over to me and curl up beside me. We found comfort in each other.
He had been there for me when I desperately needed someone. The day I brought him home and let him roam around the house, his presence gradually chased away those nightmares and somehow made me smile again.
he barks and brings me back to present, slowly approaching him, I bent down to his level and pats his head gently. Few minutes later, I fill his food bowls and bid him goodbye.
Soon I settled in my car, when my phone pinged with a notification. Curiously, I opened the text and my brows frawn in confusion. Another unknown text shows on the screen and I read it.
Unknown : time to think it again.
"What now?" I wondered aloud, perplexed by the situation.
Was thinking about him not enough that now I have to contemplate something I didn't even know about?
Who was this unknown person? I had already blocked the previous number from which I received the 'mistake' text. Yet here it was again, this time from a different number. Who the hell messages like this?
Shaking my head, I closed the phone and turned the keys in the ignition to start the car. Adjusting the steering wheel, I hurriedly drove to my office.
I reached there in thirty minutes. After greeting the employees, I marched to the elevator.
The elevator door opens, and I strolled towards my cabin. Once settled into my chair, I called Ivan and asked him to bring me a cup of coffee. Instead of waiting, I engrossed myself in work, only to realize the overwhelming amount of tasks ahead.
A knock interrupted my thoughts, drawing my attention. Ivan walked in, holding a tray. He paced towards me and placed the tray on the desk, then lifted his gaze to meet mine.
Is there something on my face? I thought.
He glanced at me once more, hesitantly meeting my eyes. "You okay?" he queried, his expression revealing genuine concern.
But why was he concerned?
I'm okay.
or am I?
Actually, I wasn't sure.
The throbbing pain in my head intensifies as I contemplate my well-being. "I'm fine," I replied, forcing a small smile. He nodded, still watching me intently, then walked out and closed the door with a soft click.
Closing my eyes, I leaned back in the chair. My legs continued to shake from stress. Taking a deep breath, I regained my composure and reached for the cup of coffee, only to discover medicine placed beside it.
Holding the medicine, I observed its name, aspirin, a headache painkiller. How did he know I'm having a headache?
After slurping the coffee, I stared at the painkiller. I've always had a bad relation with medicines. They taste awful—blame the manufacturers.
But the throbbing pain forces me to take the medicine, fisting it in my hand, I fill a glass of water. After gaining enough encouragement I gulped down the aspirin, my lips twitched and eyes went close.
Still tastes awful.
Okay, I've got this! My eyes snapped opens as I heard the sound of phone ringing. Taking out the phone from the purse, I glanced at the caller id, Ekansh.
Looks like I need to take another aspirin right now. If I answer his call, he'll launch into his regular rant, which I definitely can't handle at the moment. So, instead of answering his call, I switched off my phone and stuffed it back into my purse.
Taking a deep breath, in and out. I again engrossed myself into work because I need time to think and that's how I think.
By working like a slave.
The days rolls off by me having a plate of salad with curd for the dinner. As I've no energy left to make something decent to eat, but I was sure that a plate full of salad can fill my tummy and keeps me alive through the whole night.
After feeding Bruno, he settled in his usual spot: on his stuffed bed surrounded by toys. I switched off the lights, slumped onto my own bed, and closed my eyes.
The bright rays of sunshine fell on my face, and I scrunched my eyes closed, warding off the intrusive light. I sat up and began my usual routine, which I've faithfully followed for the past three days: taking a warm bath, getting dressed, heading to the office, and tackling a mountain of work.
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Maybe I should call now; it's been over a week, and I haven't said a word to him.
After seven days of contemplation—the endless nightmares of him haunting my thoughts, the headaches, the numbness in my body, and worst of all, the feeling that my heart had ceased to live, merely beating to pass the time.
So, the conclusion is: a contract marriage.
I don't need someone by my side now. After him, I don't want anyone like that. But my family insists on me getting married and if I had confessed all my nightmares and him. I fear they'll be sad, angry—not at me, but for me, and many more emotions.
I don't want my family to suffer the pain I endured before. He was my past, a part of me back then, but now he's gone—from my life and from my heart.
I shrugged those thoughts faintly and grabbed my phone from the desk.
His number appeared on the screen. After hesitating for a few moments, I eventually pressed the call button. It began to ring: once, twice, thrice, and continued, but he didn't pick up. Is he ignoring me like I did? But I wasn't ignoring him; I just needed some time alone to think.
A whimper escaped my mouth as the throbbing pain in my head intensified. Stepping back, I decided to rest for a few minutes before refocusing on my work. I threw the phone onto the couch and slumped over, my eyes closing on their own, as if they had been waiting for this moment.
I woke to the sound of the phone ringing, lifting my head to glance at the clock on the wall. I had slept for 20 minutes. A groan escaped my mouth. Couldn't whoever was calling wait until another time? After a whole week, I finally had a chance to sleep.
The ringing brought me back to the present, and I reached for the phone from the couch. Rubbing my eyes, I tried to clear away the dots dancing in my vision.
Looking at the caller ID, my hand froze, and my breath caught. He was calling me, or rather, returning my call since he was the one who hadn't picked up earlier.
Standing up, I absentmindedly tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.
Strange.
I swiped the green button and brought the phone to my ear. Maybe I should say something first. Closing my eyes, I greeted softly, "Hello."
"Hey, you called," he exclaimed nonchalantly, as if he didn't care. But underneath, his voice lightly soothed my aching head. Taking a deep breath, I struggled to find the right words.
Biting my lower lip, I stuttered, "Um, I've been meaning to call you for a few days, but I- I.." I closed my eyes and paused, struggling with my words.
Yes, I had meant to call him, but I couldn't. I don't know why I couldn't call or text him. Maybe I had been overthinking everything.
"I didn't get the chance," I added finally, waiting for his response. Turning on my heel, I started pacing the room. After a brief moment, his surprisingly soothing voice filled my ear. "It's okay," he replied calmly and gently this time.
"So, have you thought about it?" he asked, and my steps came to a halt.
Thought about it? I scoffed internally at his question. He didn't know that my mind had been a battlefield of unexpected thoughts for the past week. And all over what? "Let's get married?" Yes.
I considered every possible reaction to his question, because I tend to overthink and have those dark nightmares.
Only I knew how hard I had tried not to think about him whenever someone mentioned words like marriage or love.
After driving myself mad thinking about it, I finally came to a decision. Marriage, I could do. But love? I couldn't. Not now, and maybe not ever.
Having made up my mind, I asked him, "Yeah, I did, but..." I hesitated. Should I ask him? Yes, I should. Because there were no clear threads in his proposal.
"Why me?" It was on the tip of my tongue since he first asked me in the café. Suddenly, the throbbing in my head intensified, and I stopped pacing.
Standing there, I checked my temperature by placing a hand on my forehead; it was burning hot. Instead of subsiding, my fever seemed to worsen.
With a questioning "Hmm?" since I hadn't heard any response from his end, I dropped my hand and walked toward the desk to call Ivan for some medicine.
"It seems you've forgotten that we're dating," he explained, and I rolled my eyes. Dating? Seriously?. Taking a deep breath, I replied firmly, "Listen, we are not dating." It was true; we weren't. Not wanting to hear his response, I cut him off before he could speak.
"I called you to ask something important," I said quietly, letting go of the telephone. After a few moments of silence, he said, "Okay, ask."
Encouraging myself, I blurted out "why me? And yes, don't just say that's it because I'm your girlfriend." My breath harden but I continued "We didn't even do anything which couples do, okay so we're far from this dating thing."
As soon as I finished, my breathing became harsh, and I struggled to inhale deeply. Nothing seemed to work, and to make matters worse, the throbbing pain returned with even more intensity.
My eyes tightened as my other hand reached for the telephone. Unexpectedly, his soothing voice came through, "Okay, relax first." He told me to relax, and I hummed in response, but how could I relax? Shaking my head, I tried to dial the number with my trembling fingers.
A few invisible dots started to appear in front of me, making me dizzy and weak. He said something with concern, "Now breathe, okay? Breathe for me." Something like that; my mind was going numb.
Stumbling at the desk, I finally pressed the call button. Veer asked something, but I didn't hear it, and I whispered a faint "yeah." Holding the telephone, I tried to say, "I—" but my words died in my mouth as those dots grew larger and turned into blackness, eventually overtaking my vision.
I felt pain in my head as it banged against the floor with a loud thud. The last thing I saw was a man running towards me, saying something.
A faint voice echoed despite the blackness, the only thing I could see right now, filled with care, I presumed.
"Ma'am." A gentle hand patted my cheek, the manly voice uttering words like 'ma'am', 'wake up'. The manly voice wasn't as comforting as Veer's, yet it was gentle. A groan escaped from my mouth and my eyes fluttered open.
That hand now moved down to my back, helping me sit properly against the hard leather surface of the sofa. I blinked my eyes several times to regain consciousness.
Once those invisible dots started to disappear from my vision, I asked, "Wh-what happened just now?" My voice broke from the pain, and a whimper escaped my mouth. Tilting my head, I peered at the man, Ivan, who was gazing at me cautiously.
A glass of water floated in front of me. No, there were a pair of hands around the glass; it was Ivan's. Accepting the glass from him, I gulped down half of the water and handed it back to Ivan.
"You fainted because you didn't eat enough and because you have a high fever. You should've taken rest," he scolded gently, gazing down at me. His tone was filled with a hint of sternness, and my mouth closed shut.
Placing my hands on my lap, I looked down and gazed at them. I did remember eating regularly and making sure I had enough energy to work until I got home. But how did I faint?
But wait, did Ivan just complain to me about myself? Lifting my head, I faced him and cleared my throat. "You—" He cut off my words and said, "No more excuses. You should take rest now," softly this time.
"I'll take care of everything, so just take a few days' leave, please. I've seen you working hard for the past few days, and it's affecting your health badly," he added, leaving me in shock.
In the past two years, this was the longest sentence he had ever said to me, not counting during meetings. He had never uttered more than four or five words to me. It was always 'okay, ma'am', 'I'm sorry, ma'am', or 'your appointment is this or that'.
Instead of saying anything, I nodded at his words and tried to stand up. Shaking his head briefly, he reached out his hand for me to hold as I struggled to stand on my own. Without a second thought, I held onto him and forced myself to stand properly.
Once I stood up, I let go of his hand and rested on the couch. I asked him to bring me some medicines while I freshened up. His responses were soft-spoken as he smiled a little. Mirroring his smile, I assured him that I would rest, and he left the room.
A sudden thought crossed my mind: should I cry?
No, I snapped at my own thoughts.
Pushing myself off the couch, I marched to the bathroom attached to my closet room. Loosening the straps of my heels, I slipped out of them. Turning the faucet on, I stepped into the shower fully clothed.
The cold water cascaded down my body, my dress sticking to my skin, but I didn't care. The only thing on my mind was how to prevent a breakdown right here.
Suddenly, I wished to hear his soothing, comforting voice again. I wanted to hear it once more so I wouldn't end up crying. Since his call, I had found that his voice unknowingly relaxed and stabilized me.
The realization that I couldn't hear his voice right now brought new tears to my eyes. Why? Was I going crazy? What was wrong with me? On one side, I was contemplating binding him to the contract, and on the other, I was crying because I couldn't hear his surprisingly soothing voice again?
Maybe my periods were near; that's why I was having these weird mood swings.
Finally snapping back to reality from my mood swings, I finished my bath and draped a bathrobe over my body. Grabbing a hand towel, I gently rubbed my wet hair to dry it.
By the time I dropped the towel on the armchair, I saw someone standing near the door from my peripheral view. Nobody comes in whenever I take a shower, so who could it be? Lifting my curious eyes, I saw a man before me, and somehow my heart stopped for a few seconds.
Veer stood in front of me, staring intensely as a smile rolled across his face and a dimple appeared on his left cheek.
Am I dreaming?
I questioned internally, but I got my answer right then as he strode forward. My eyes glanced at his steps. Illusions can be fake, but they never show real emotions, right?
Turning my head again, I faced him. My eyes widened and I tried to form words, "You," I choked on my words as soon as he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and tightly tugged me into a hug.
For a few moments, I didn't react because surprisingly, he felt soft, warm, and safe. Maybe this is what I needed for a week—a hug. All my negative thoughts faded away, the stiffness of my body loosened, and unknowingly my hands reached out to wrap around his torso, to feel his warmth again and more tightly this time.
My body relaxed, finally. Turning my head to the side, I leaned and pressed my cheek against his warm and hard chest. His heart was close to my ear as I listened to its sound.
Thump.
Thump.
His heartbeats.
Shockingly, the thump-thump sound of his heartbeats worked like a lullaby to me. My eyes were growing heavy, seeking some sleep which I hadn't received the whole week.
His hold on me tightened and my eyes snapped open. Blinking rapidly, I realized I was hugging him, more like clinging onto him.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Removing my hands, I took a few steps back feeling awkward. I held the hem of my bathrobe's sleeve and asked, "You're here?" Glancing at the clock, I saw it had been almost 20 minutes since our call, yet he stood in front of me.
"You scared me," he said softly. After our last abrupt conversation on the phone, finally hearing his soothing voice again was a relief.
My lips formed an 'O' as I registered his words and their meaning. Who wouldn't be scared after a call like that? Well, maybe some wouldn't mind, but no, don't go there, I scolded my inner thoughts.
A wave of cold air struck, and I ran a hand over my forearm. Maybe I should have dressed warmer, I thought. To my surprise, Veer turned and switched on the heat feature of the air conditioner.
Grabbing a towel from the chair, I turned to leave but paused as he spoke again. "So, what happened earlier?" he queried, tilting his head slightly to look at me.
I considered lying, but it wouldn't change anything, so I told the truth. "I fainted," I said quietly, thinking to leave, but he snapped his head towards me and approached quickly. "You what? How?" he asked with concern evident in his voice. Surprisingly, he cupped my face gently in his hands, leaving me speechless.
Relax, I told myself.
A shiver ran down my spine as the rough yet warm pad of his thumb stroked circles on my cheeks. "hurt anywhere, Siya?" he asked again, his voice gentle but still causing my heart to race. Taking a deep breath, I shook my head sideways.
Okay, this is dangerous.
No,
he's dangerous.
He didn't withdraw his hands, and I didn't push them away, unable to. I felt myself melting in his touch, so I shoved the thought away.
To distract myself, the only thing I could think of was our discussion about marriage. So I told him what I had been thinking about for the past week.
"I was thinking that getting married wasn't a bad option," I finally said, my eyes locked with his black orbs. His stroking hand came to a halt. He chuckled once more as his thumb glided over my cheek. "Is that a yes?" he asked, chuckling again.
Retorting, "Does it sound like a no to you?" I eyed him seriously. Here I was speaking seriously, and he was chuckling and holding my face as if I were a baby. Still holding my face, he pulled me against his chest, but before that, I placed a hand on his chest and slightly pushed him back.
"I've got a fever, so stay away," I said, mentally patting myself for the excuse. But wait, I did have a fever, a high one. Damn.
I turned and paced towards the closet. Once inside, I closed the door with a soft click and hurriedly began tossing hangers full of dresses. Confusedly, I pulled out a few pieces: pink, blue, yellow, and black.
Suppressing an irritating groan, I chose the light blue one and slipped into it. I fastened the straps of my heels, my hair still damp, cascading down my waist. I resisted the urge to apply makeup and exited the closet.
I felt his gaze before seeing him, and all he did was stare. He stared at me while cold shivers ran down my spine. Standing up, he suggested I should rest, but instead of listening, I unrolled the papers from the envelope and stretched them towards him.
I don't want any confusion now. I can go through with the marriage, but love isn't for me now, or maybe it never was. My past still haunts me, and I know I need to move on from that, but deep down, I can't.
His brow furrowed in confusion as he took the papers from my hands. His face didn't show any reaction as if he hadn't just seen a marriage contract.
"Okay," he simply said, placing the papers on the table.
I glared at him. Okay? That's all he had to say? But isn't it too straightforward for him? I expected some conditions from his side or some bargaining between us.
Offering his hand, he said softly, "Now rest." His voice dropped with concern and care. "You agreed?" I asked, not quite believing yet, I extended my hand and placed it on top of his.
He hummed in confirmation and guided me to sit on the couch. Kneeling in front of me, he let our intertwined hands rest on my lap.
My eyes remained fixed on him, just as they were back in the cafe. Studying my face carefully, his other hand reached out to tuck some stray strands behind my ear and then began to gently stroke my head. I would be lying if I said it didn't soothe my headache.
More like it healed it.
God, what was happening to me?
We stayed like this for some time, him gently caressing my head and me gazing at him effortlessly.
After some time, he stood up and walked over to the desk. My gaze followed him as he returned with a tray in his hands. Setting it beside me, he placed a bowl of soup in my hands, which I started to drink before he said anything.
I finished it, and then he instructed me to take some medicine. At first, I protested because they tasted bitter. But then he glared at me, so I reluctantly took them, or rather, they took me.
How can something like medicine, which heals people, taste this awful? Can't they make something like Veer's healing?
Later in the evening, Veer dropped me off at my parents' home. Basically, he took advantage of me because I accidentally fell asleep on our way home, thinking he was taking me back to my apartment. When my eyes fluttered open, I saw Mumma standing at the door.
I did want to return to my apartment, but my body ached badly. So, I called Ivan and asked him to feed Bruno his dinner so that he could sleep. After dropping me off, Veer drove off, bidding goodbye to Mumma.
Mumma made dinner, especially khichadi for me, as Veer had told her about my fever. Later, I slumped down on the bed, gazing at the ceiling of my old bedroom for what might be the last time, and finally fell asleep.
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My eyes fluttered open as sunlight fell directly on my face. "Uth ja, pata hai na aaj Veer ki family aa rahi hai," Mumma reminded me, opening the curtains fully.
Hugging my pillow tightly, I groaned. "I'll die at this rate, Siyu," Anvi di yelled and tapped my head a few times. I grinned as I loosened my hold on her stomach — oops my pillow — and finally straightened up, leaning on the headrest.
I stayed there for few minutes, staring at mumma as I recalled how my days have been going now.
Pleasant.
It had been three days since he dropped me off at my parents' house, and surprisingly, I had recovered well. My fever had gone down by the second day, and the effect of Mumma's oiling seemed miraculous. The throbbing pain had vanished since she started oiling my hair and giving me massages every night.
I even went to the doctor and got myself tested. He told me that I've been under a lot of stress lately and that fainting that day was likely due to not consuming enough food. It didn't surprise me much, though. I've been experiencing stress more often lately.
Focusing on the topic of 'VEER', I recalled how things wrapped up that evening. We talked to each other a day later, and that's when it was decided that we'll act like a normal couple in front of the world, including our families.
At first, I doubted why he had agreed to this contract so easily, but then he clarified: first, we were already seen as dating by people; second, his family would force him to marry another girl if he refused; and third, the most important reason—it was a win-win situation for both of us as we could profit from it.
Well, sounds scandalous, isn't it?
Apart from this chaos, the only thing that made me genuinely happy was that my di had come back. It was on the second day when she suddenly showed up at the door, hugged me like a koala bear, and screamed "surprise" at the top of her lungs into my ears.
after that she rants about how her small life in New York, she tells me that she had few friends whom she'll be inviting in the wedding. Not to forget that she was damn excited to see Veer but decides to see him only when he stand face to face to her.
"Then die," I scoffed at her words, kicking my feet as I marched towards the bathroom and closed the door.
No matter how much I loved her, if she couldn't handle my tight hugs, then she could go to hell, respectfully. Huffing at the thought, I took out the toothbrush, squeezed the right amount of paste onto it, and started brushing my teeth.
After brushing, I splashed some water on my face, then more and more. The reason behind this was one person: since I hugged him, it had become hard for me not to crush a pillow beneath me or even someone alive, because frustratingly, I missed his hug.
I wanted to feel that warmth again and hear the thumping sound of his heartbeat. I tried hugging Mom and Avni, but theirs just didn't sound or feel as good for some reason, which only irritated me more.
Splashing more water, I grabbed a face towel and wiped my skin dry. Holding the hem of my T-shirt, I pulled it over my head and tossed it into the laundry basket along with my other clothes. Then, I turned on the faucet and stepped into the shower.
As I walked out of the bathroom, I saw my room was empty. Walking around the room, I entered the closet. I only had traditional clothes here, not to mention Mumma had told me to wear something decent.
My eyes glanced at the red suit; it was a gift from my di. I think she had gifted it to me like three years ago, but I never got a chance to wear it. So, instead of confusing my brain any further, I simply fetched the red suit and slipped into it effortlessly.
Afterwards, I took out Di's makeup kit and started applying it. Successfully following every step, I completed it in 45 minutes.
Shifting my gaze from the products, I held them up see myself through the mirror. As soon as my eyes fell on my face, I smiled. I had done a pretty nice job with my makeup. I was never a fan of heavy makeup, so I kept it minimal yet classy.
"Siyu ready hui? Vo log aa gaye," she exclaimed, entering the closet room. She didn't notice, but my breath hitched.
Even knowing that it's all a contract, I couldn't ignore the fact that he was here with his family. Dropping the Kajal on the table, I stood up and turned to face Di. She examined me by roaming her eyes from head to toe and picked up the Kajal from the table.
Opening the lid, she placed a dot behind my ear. "Haye, kisi ki nazar na lage," she mimicked Mumma and smiled. I smiled back.
"Acchi lag rahi hoon?" I asked curiously. She eyed me and then waved her hand before me. She huffed at me, then suddenly pinched my cheeks. "Acchi? Bahut acchi lag rahi hai, Kala tika yoon hi nahi lagaya tha maine."
I winced in pain and pushed her lightly. "I've told you a hundred times, don't pinch my cheeks, it hurts," she laughed and walked out of the room, saying, 'I'm going down to see Mumma.'
turning again, I glanced myself through the mirror for the last time before stepping into the balcony, which is connected to my room and gives the whole front view of the entrance.
The cruel sun rays fell on my face, making my eyes scrunch, but I ignored them as the cold wind struck. Wrapping my arms around myself, I stood near the railing. My eyes were fixed on the giant entrance gate when a black Mercedes veered into the entrance followed by a matte black Rolls Royce.
"They are here," I whispered to myself.
My breath quickened as his family members started to step out of their cars. Two ladies in silk sarees emerged with smiles on their faces, followed by their husbands. An unfamiliar face also stepped out, and my eyes glanced at him briefly.
He was handsome, but not as much—never mind.
He was engrossed in a phone call when another person emerged from the car. My eyes snapped to him. As he turned his face, my brown orbs locked with his black ones. A smile spread across his lips, revealing that damn dimple.
Everything seemed to pause for a moment—my heart skipped a beat, making it difficult to breathe.
𖤐
"Siya, why don't you take Veer to show him around?" mumma insist, smiling at me. Diverting their attention they'll all looked at me, and I nod at her.
After their family settled down in the hall, both families greeted each other, and then they began discussing us. Meanwhile, Veer and I were just sitting there, listening to their conversation.
They seemed happy about us. Virendra uncle, Veer's dad, said he was happy to see us together, mentioning they were the ones who suggested the date idea to my dad. I felt a twinge of anger when he confessed that because if he hadn't arranged the date, I wouldn't be in this mess, and I wouldn't be having those nightmares.
But, jo ho Gaya so ho gaya.
Apart from this, I've noticed something about Avni di. She's been zoning out since his family came and greeted her. I asked her, since she's sitting right beside me and I'm feeling nervous; it's weird. She shook her head, saying it's nothing. Not that I believe her.
Pushing myself off the couch, I glanced at Veer, who was smiling at Maya aunty, his mom. Without saying a word, I headed towards the stairs, with him following closely behind.
Quick, I thought to myself, not wanting to endure any awkward grins that I was sure to get from Di. She had been lost in her own world earlier, but when Mom suggested I give Veer a tour, she chuckled.
As soon as I stepped onto the first stair, Veer's hand appeared in my view as he placed it on the railing. My breath hitched as his chest nearly touched my back. His voice came suddenly, "Hey," he whispered, in his deep voice and almost near my ear.
Taking a deep breath, I turned around slightly and replied, "Hi" holding the sides of my suit in my hands, I marched upstairs.
In no time, I entered my room followed by Veer. He closed the door with a soft click and scanned the whole room with his head.
As you know, I moved out at an early age. So my room reflects some teenage tendencies: stuffed toys everywhere, board games on the shelves, and books—fictional ones, which I love. Apart from this, it looks decent and warm.
"Nice room," he exclaimed, turning his face toward me and smiling, looking into my eyes. I blinked a few times and plastered a small smile on my face. "Thanks. Now, shall we sign that?" I replied with a question.
We hadn't signed the contract yet; in fact, we hadn't had the time. I was at my parents' house, and they wouldn't let me leave until I was well enough.
He stayed silent for a few seconds then nodded in response to my question. I smiled. "The papers are in the lower drawer," I motioned toward the cabinet behind him and turned to take a pen from the bedside table.
"Okay," he muttered and turned around, kneeling down. I opened the drawer, and my brows pinched in confusion because strangely, there was no pen there.
But I distinctly remembered always keeping my pens here. Sighing, I opened the drawer below and found a pen. Smiling, I picked it out.
I was about to stand up when his voice startled me—more precisely, his words. "Hey, Miss Feisty Cat!" My eyes widened, and my breath hitched.
Shit.
My head snapped in his direction and I saw him holding a piece of paper—not just any paper, but his letter. As he lifted his head, our eyes met. He smiled, though it seemed more like a smirk that quickly softened into a smile—the one with that damn dimple.
Turning his gaze back to the letter, he was about to read it again when I hurried toward him, almost running, intent on snatching it from his grasp. But he was quicker, stretching his hand upwards.
Being 5'6", I couldn't reach his hand because he stood a daunting 6'2". Looking up at him, I glared and lifted myself onto my toes, but he only smiled wider and raised his hand higher, prompting an irritated groan from me.
"You didn't tell me you already had an admirer," he teased, his eyes widening playfully as he referred to the sender as an admirer.
"He's not an admirer," I snapped, stretching even more, desperate to retrieve the letter from his firm hold. Suddenly, my toes stumbled, making my eyes widened and in an instant, my body collided with his.
His back hit the wall and mine pressed against his chest. His hand landed on my waist, causing my head to knock against his solid chest.
Instinctively, I placed my hands on his chest. Holding my breath, I looked up and met his intense black gaze. He stared at me earnestly, then whispered softly against my forehead,
"He's an admirer."
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