Chapter 9

Siddhartha Roy Kapoor

6 years ago

The sun is setting, casting a warm golden glow over the college campus as Abhishek, Harsh, and I sit on the stone steps just outside the library. The day’s classes are over, and we're winding down . Harsh was joking about the most random things. Abhishek then asks Harsh about his latest crush. The new girl staying in the building opposite of our favorite restaurant .

" So , have you talked to that girl ? "

" yesterday, I asked the restaurant aunty about that the girl . Asking who's this new family, you know , if her dad is in army or what . You won't believe what was her reply "

" what was her reply ? "

" she answered that girl doesn't live with her parents. She lives with her Husband. Bro , that girls a married woman. She has a one year old kid . "

Abhishek bursts into laughter " what ! You finally got a crush to only end up being a babhi lover hahaha "

" Arey yar [ dude ] you two saw her right ? She didn't look even a older than 17 . She looks like a teenager. How come she be married and is with a kid "

Harsh makes a crying like face whereas Abhishek laughs more.

I should be laughing too, but I can’t focus. My fingers keep swiping across the screen of my phone. Checking the time. Refreshing the chat with Ishika. Again.

I glance up when I hear Harsh’s voice, suddenly serious.

"Oi, Siddhartha! You’ve been glued to your phone for the last ten minutes. What’s up with you?" He nudges me with his shoulder, grinning.

I clear my throat, pocketing my phone quickly as if I’m hiding a secret. "Nothing, man. Just... waiting for a message." I force a smile, but it's not convincing.

Abhishek raises an eyebrow, teasing. "Waiting for Ishika, huh? She’s the only one who can make you look like you’re about to combust with all that phone-checking."

I feel my cheeks flush. "She’s sick," I say, shrugging it off, but my voice betrays the concern. "She wasn’t in college today, so I sent her a message. I’m just... making sure she’s okay."

Harsh smirks. "Aww, look at Mr. Siddhartha. You’re so whipped, man."

"Shut up," I mutter, trying to laugh it off, but the worry still lingers. "I just want to know she’s fine. She told me she wasn’t feeling well, and I don’t like not hearing back from her."

Abhishek raises an eyebrow. "Maybe she’s ignoring you, bro, you know,  getting shy and all . " he says with a grin.

"Don’t joke about that," I mutter blushing a little but also suddenly feeling a lump in my throat. I’ve been thinking about that too, wondering if I’ve done something to upset her.

Harsh nudges me again, his teasing tone now a little softer. "You think maybe you did something to piss her off? You’ve been acting a little weird lately, haven’t you?"

I sigh, staring at the phone in my hands like it might hold the answers. "I don’t know, man. She’s been distant these days. I can’t figure it out. Maybe... maybe I said something wrong or did something she didn’t like."

Abhishek shrugs, trying to sound casual. "Maybe she’s just stressed out. Exams are coming up, right? A lot of people are acting weird because of that."

I shake my head. "Yeah, but it doesn’t feel like that. It’s different. I don’t know, maybe it’s all in my head."

There’s a long pause. Harsh and Abhishek exchange looks, and then Harsh pats me on the back, his usual teasing tone back in place. "Bro, if she’s mad at you, just send her a ‘sorry’ message. It’s the magic word. Works every time."

"Yeah, or maybe a ‘get well soon’ text would work," Abhishek adds, smirking.

I laugh softly, trying to lighten the mood, but I can’t shake the feeling that something’s off. I keep staring at my phone, hoping for a reply, hoping for a sign that things are still okay.

“Alright, man. Now that we’ve got you somewhat in a better mood, how about we grab some snacks? I’m starving, and we can totally cheer you up a bit more, right?”

Abhishek says and I chuckle lightly, the tension starting to fade. “Yeah, I could eat something,” I say, feeling a little better than before. Maybe it’s all in my head, this whole worrying thing. Maybe it was just stress, just like Harsh said.

Harsh groans as he stands up, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Oh, great, you’re gonna make me pay for your snacks too?” His tone is light, but I can hear the hint of a smile in it. “Why am I always the one getting stuck with the bill?”

Abhishek laughs, slapping him on the back. “Because you’re the one who spends all his money on cheap junk. This time, it’s your turn to do something nice, man.” He winks at me. “Come on, let’s go.”

Harsh throws his hands up in mock exasperation. “Fine, fine! Just don’t make it weird. I’ll buy you your damn chips, but that’s it!”

We all head out, making our way toward the nearest grocery store just off-campus. The evening air is cool, a slight breeze stirring the leaves in the trees. As we walk, I let my thoughts wander back to Ishika for a moment. That message she sent... it didn’t feel entirely like her. She didn’t mention anything about being with Nidhi or Nikhil, her best friend and her boyfriend. It didn’t sit right with me, but I push it aside, telling myself I’m just overthinking things.

We reach the store, and Abhishek’s the first one to rush down the aisles. Harsh and I follow more casually, both of us in the snack section, debating whether to go for chips, candy, or some random salty snacks that’ll probably give us heartburn later.

As we’re scanning the shelves, my attention shifts to the entrance of the store. My stomach drops when I spot a familiar face, her laughter echoing in the air. It's Ishika.

No, it’s not just her. I see Nidhi beside her, laughing as usual, her high-pitched giggle ringing out. And standing next to them is Nikhil, Nidhi’s boyfriend. The three of them are in their own little world, laughing about something, talking animatedly. Ishika looks fine—too fine to be sick like she said she was. She’s standing there in a cute yellow dress, her hair falling loosely around her shoulders as she grins at something Nidhi just said.

I freeze, my hand tightening around the snack bag I didn’t even realize I was holding. My heart skips a beat, and I feel a jolt of confusion—was she really sick? She told me she was resting at her apartment today. The same Ishika who texted me about being unwell. The same Ishika who hadn’t replied to my calls until just a few minutes ago.

Why didn’t she tell me the truth?

I try to shake it off, but the doubt creeps in, and before I know it, I’m dialing her number, my finger trembling slightly as I press the call button. My stomach churns as the phone rings, louder than it ever has before. I stand there, my eyes not leaving Ishika and her friends, my heart pounding.

The phone rings twice... three times...

It goes to voicemail.

I stare at the screen, my gut tightening with each second. I dial again, this time more urgently. The phone rings again, a few more times, before it goes to voicemail once more.

I try again, my thumb shaking as I hit the call button a third time. This time, something strange happens after a couple of rings. It doesn’t go to voicemail. Instead, a voice comes through—The number you have dialed is currently busy. Please try again later.

I freeze. The words echo in my head, repeating themselves like a bad dream I can’t wake up from.

The number is busy.

I look at my phone screen again, staring in disbelief. My breath catches in my throat as the truth slowly starts to sink in. Ishika’s number is blocked.

Blocked.

I feel the world tilt beneath me as the realization crashes down. She’s been avoiding me. She’s been lying to me. It’s not just a little distance—it’s something more. My chest tightens painfully, and I swallow hard, as if trying to push the knot that’s forming in my throat down. I want to feel anger, confusion, but instead, all I feel is the cold, sharp sting of betrayal.

From the corner of my eye, I see Abhishek and Harsh, who have both stopped what they’re doing and are looking at me now, their expressions shifting to concern. But I can’t focus on them. I can’t focus on anything but the fact that the girl I’ve been worried about—who I thought was sick and just needed space—has actually been hiding something from me all along.

I stand there, staring at the screen of my phone, my hands trembling. My mind races, trying to find some logical explanation, some way to justify this. But there’s nothing. No excuse that makes sense.

And then, without thinking, I start to move, my legs carrying me out of the store before I even realize it. Abhishek calls my name behind me, but I don’t stop. I can’t. I have to get out of here, away from everything, away from this sick feeling building in my chest.

I walk quickly, almost stumbling in my haste, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts I can’t even process.

Ishika. Blocked.

My world feels like it’s crumbling, piece by piece.

And all I can do is stand there, helpless, heartbroken, and completely shocked.

🕛

Present time

I don’t remember walking out of the store. I don’t remember how I got to the street, or how I ended up there, standing on the curb. The air was cold, sharper now as night settles over the city. My mind was still spinning, caught in the whirlwind of everything that’s just happened—everything I just learned about Ishika. Blocked. Why? Why didn’t she just tell me she's facing some problem? Did i do something or was it something else ? The questions keep slamming against the inside of my skull like a drumbeat I can’t escape.

I had just glanced around, feeling the ache in my chest was intensifying. I was not even sure where I was going. All I knew was that I couldn't stay in that grocery store, couldn't face Abhishek or Harsh right now. Not like that.

A sharp honk breaks through the fog in my mind, the blaring sound cutting through the haze like a knife. I jolt, my head snapping up to see a car’s headlights blinding me in the dark. I squint, trying to focus, trying to make sense of where I am and what’s going on.

The honk sounds again—louder this time—and I realize I’ve been standing in the middle of the street, lost in my own head. I shake myself out of the daze, stepping quickly to the sidewalk, feeling the thud of my heart slow as the reality of the situation settles in.

"Fvk Siddhartha. Put your shts togather. By thinking all of these you're proving Harsh and Abhi's words right . Don't do this . Focus on your self , your present . Not some unwanted past . "

I pull out my phone and for a second, I feel the panic rise in my chest all over again , I remember something important: Swarna. Her name flashes on the screen in bold letters.

She’s the one who called me earlier. My mind clears, the overwhelming chaos of my thoughts momentarily pushed aside by the urgent tone in her voice. She had been panicking, saying her he  had been knocking on her apartment door, demanding to be let in. Him . Her ex husband.

She was terrified. I’d promised I’d come over. I had to go.

Without thinking, I hit the gas and speed off through the city streets, my focus sharp now. The phone sits quietly in my lap as I weave through the traffic. The night is dark, the streets lit only by the occasional streetlamp and the glow of passing headlights. My hands grip the steering wheel tighter than they should, the stress of the day still pulling at me. But now, it's not Ishika that clouds my thoughts—it’s Swarna, her voice still fresh in my mind, shaking and panicked. She needed help.

The streets are packed with traffic. Cars crawl forward in the gridlock, and it only takes a few moments before the tension in my chest deepens again. I’m stuck, sitting in place, just staring at the red lights ahead, cursing the traffic for making me late.

The tires screech against the road as I push the accelerator, the car speeding down the quiet streets, but it feels like everything is moving in slow motion. Every second that ticks by feels like an eternity. My thoughts swirl around Swarna—her voice, shaking and desperate, echoing in my mind.

I barely notice when I pull up in front of her building. My heart is pounding in my throat, and the world around me is a haze of lights and shadows. I don’t stop to look for the man she described. There’s no time to waste. The building looms in front of me, a cold, indifferent structure that has no care for the terror that’s inside it.

I rush out of the car, not bothering to lock it. My footsteps echo against the concrete as I move toward the entrance.

I waste no time, bolting through the hallway and toward her apartment. I expected a man to pound on her door aggressively. But to my surprise there wasn't anyone. The hall was empty.

I walk towards her main door.

I stop just in front of her apartment door, the cool metal handle staring back at me, like it’s a barrier between me and Swarna’s safety. I take a deep breath, steadying my racing pulse, and raise my hand to knock. I do it carefully, mindful of the situation. Two knocks. That's all I can manage before the anxiety starts to crawl up my spine, making my palms sweat.

One knock. Then two.

" Swarna ! It's me ! Siddhartha! "

The sound echoes through the quiet hall. My ears strain for any response, but the minutes drag on with nothing but silence, and the fear gnawing at my insides grows sharper. I take another step back, trying to gather myself before knocking again.

I don't hear footsteps, nothing.

Maybe she’s too scared to open the door. Maybe she doesn’t know it’s me. The thought crosses my mind—what if she thinks I’m the one causing trouble?

Another knock. Louder this time.

"Swarna ! It's me . Siddhartha. Open the door . It's just me "

I step back again, glancing nervously over my shoulder, half-expecting someone to appear behind me. But it's still quiet. The silence hangs in the air like a thick, oppressive cloud.

Then, just when I think I might have to break the door down, I hear it. The sound of locks turning, followed by a hesitant creak of the door as it slowly opens. My breath catches in my throat, and I immediately step forward, my eyes locking on her.

Swarna stands there in the doorway, but it’s not the calm, composed woman I know from the office. She’s not the professional secretary who always seems to have everything under control. Her hair is disheveled, sticking to her face, her cheeks flushed from crying. Her eyes are puffy and red, and her makeup has smudged down her face in streaks. She’s a mess, trembling as she stands in front of me.

The second her gaze meets mine, she exhales shakily, as if she’s been holding her breath since I called her. A rush of relief seems to flood over her, and before I can say a word, she steps down and collapses infront of  me, her body shaking as her loud sobs filled the doorway.

For a moment, I’m too stunned to move. I wasn’t prepared for this—her breaking down in front of me like this. I wasn’t prepared to see the woman who is usually so strong, so controlled, completely falling apart.

“Sir... I… I…” She can barely speak, her words a string of broken sobs. “I was so scared. He was here. He was banging on the door. I thought... I thought he would break it down. I thought he was going to hurt me.” Her voice cracks with the weight of the fear she’d been holding in. “I didn’t know what to do. I just… I... I didn’t know who to call…”

Her words hit me like a punch in the gut. I’m still trying to process the sight in front of me—Swarna, the woman who holds everything together at work, now a complete mess infront of me. This isn’t the Swarna I know—the calm, efficient assistant who always has a plan. This is a woman utterly terrified and lost, in need of someone to help her, someone to make everything stop.

“Hey, it’s okay,” I murmur, wrapping my arms around her gently. I can feel her body trembling with each sob. I press a hand against her back, trying to offer comfort, though I can feel the tightness in my own chest. “I’m here. I’m here now. You’re safe. Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

I step back slightly, placing my hands on her shoulders, trying to steady her, but it’s no use. Her emotions flood out like a dam breaking, the tears flowing freely now, and I can only watch as she crumbles in front of me.

“Come on,” I say softly, taking her by the arm after locking the main door .  I guide her to the couch, helping her sit down as she continues to sniffle, her breath still coming in short, panicked bursts. She pulls her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them tightly as if to keep herself together, but the shaking won’t stop.

I walk toward the small kitchen in the corner of the apartment, trying to clear my head. She needs water. She needs something to calm down.

I open the cabinet and grab a glass, filling it with water from the tap. As I return to her, she’s still sitting there, her face buried in her knees. She doesn’t look up as I approach, but I sit beside her, placing the glass in her hands. She looks at it for a moment, her eyes unfocused, before finally lifting it to her lips and taking a small sip. Her hands shake slightly, and I can see the effort it takes for her to steady them.

“I… I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice still hoarse. “I just… I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t think. I was so scared. I’ve never been so scared, Sir . I kept thinking he was going to… he was going to… I don’t know.”

Her voice trails off, and the tears come again, flooding down her face. I watch, helpless, as the strong, composed woman I’ve known for so long crumbles in front of me.

I don't say anything for a moment, letting her cry it out. I let the weight of her fear and her vulnerability hang between us, knowing there’s nothing I can say that will make it better. Not right now.

“I’m sorry,” she says again, quieter now. She’s trying to pull herself together, but her voice cracks every time she speaks. “I didn’t want to bother you with this. I know it’s not... professional.”

I shake my head, cutting her off before she can spiral into more apologies. “Don’t say that. You’re not bothering me. You’re not just my secretary, Swarna. You’re… you’re important.” I pause for a second, trying to find the right words. “You did the right thing by calling me. You’re not alone in this. You understand? You don’t have to apologize.”

She nods slowly, still trembling in my arms. I can feel her body shaking against mine, like the weight of what just happened hasn’t fully left her. It’s hard to tell where the fear ends and the exhaustion begins, but I know I have to do something—anything—to help her find some peace again.

I gently rub her back, trying to soothe her as best as I can. “Do you want to talk about it? Tell me what happened.”

She doesn’t speak at first, her breath still uneven. But after a moment, she starts to tell me, her voice quiet, shaky, but steadying as she recounts how her ex-husband—had shown up unannounced, demanding to see her, shouting at her through the door.

How many years it had been ? 3 ? 4 ? That she left him . Left his abusive self . Then why suddenly he showed up ? What's happening?

She tells me how terrified she’d been when he started pounding on it, threatening to break it down if she didn’t let him in.

“... I didn’t know what to do,” she finishes quietly, her voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t know if he would really hurt me... or if he was just going to keep doing this.”

The words sink in like a cold weight, and I find myself seething with anger at the thought of what she’d just been through. But I don’t let it show on my face. Not yet. I need to keep calm, keep her calm.

“Alright, you’re safe now,” I say, my voice firm but gentle. “We’re going to make sure he doesn’t bother you again, okay? Let's complain to the police. Yeah . It's right thing to do "

She looks at me again . As if I said something utterly horrifying. As if I said something impossible. Her face looks pale . Her eyes widen and the only word that leaves her mouth is

" No ! "

Chapter 10

I slam the door behind me , the familiar smell of incense and home-cooked food barely registering as my feet stomp through the living room. I can feel the heat rising in my chest, my blood boiling. How could Dad do that?

“Mamma, I swear, I’m never going to forgive him for this,” I mutter, dropping my school bag with a thud on the floor as I march into the kitchen, where Mom is chopping vegetables.

Mom looks up, startled. Her hands still on the knife, she frowns. “Ishu , what happened? Why do you look so upset?”

I throw my arms out dramatically. “Dad! He’s completely crossed the line today! He had to go and scold Rohini in front of everyone for what? For calling me a mamma’s girl and making fun of me because I'm totally zero at sports?”

"Hain ? [ what ] he did what ? "

" Rohini was waiting with our friends for school today morning. And Dad was passing by . You know what he did. He scolded her infront of everyone for calling me " mamma's girl . And embarrassed her for her less marks in maths "

My mom's eyes widen as I say dad's actions.

" Dad even said to Rohini that just because she can't score good in maths like I do , doesn't mean she'll mock me for my zero sports skills "

Mom pauses, then places the knife down slowly, her expression softening. “I will talk to your Dad okay . Embarrassing rohini about her marks wasn’t right . I admit it . But he did right scolding her . Why would she make fun of you like this ? "

I look at my mom in disbelief. " Mom ! You too ? "

She clears her throat. " I mean to say , I'll talk to your Dad . He won’t say anything now , okay . But Ishika you know right , your dad doesn’t mean to embarrass you. He just wants to protect you.”

“Protect me?” I repeat, my voice rising. “By making me the target of the whole class? Rohini was laughing with everyone else about how I always run to you for everything, and Dad—Dad goes off on her like he’s some kind of hero! He made it worse, Mom! Everyone’s going to talk about it now!”

I throw myself into one of the chairs at the table, my arms crossed, face flushed with frustration. I can’t believe that he doesn’t get it. Why Doesn’t he understand how much it hurts when everyone sees her as weak because she rely on her mom or dad?

Mom sighs softly, sitting down across from me. “Your father has always been protective. He’s old-fashioned in some ways, I know. But he’s not trying to make you look bad. He just wants to see you stand strong. He loves you Ishu”

I shake my head, the words feel like too much annoying for me . “He can love me afar too mom . Just like other parents . He and you both don't even get it! I don’t want to stand strong the way he thinks. I just want to be me. I like being close to you, and there’s nothing wrong with that. I shouldn’t have to explain it to anyone! And about sports . So what if they were making fun of me . They were not telling any lie right . I am zero at sports . And I don't  regret it . I be acing everything at once right”

“Sweetheart,” she says, her voice gentle . “I know your Dad reacted childishly. But you can't be fully mad at him . You're our obly child . Apple of our eyes . He just doesn’t know how to handle things like this sometimes . You'll too have to talk to him about it when you’re calmer, okay ”

" I’m not sure if I want to talk to him at all. He’s too stubborn to listen. He’s always right, always the one who’s in control, even when he’s wrong."

I pout and look away from my mom . “I don’t want to talk to him, Mom. He’s so annoying sometimes. I didn’t ask him to do all that. Now what will Ruhani and others in group will feel ? They'll be angry with me"

Mom doesn’t respond at first, just watches her 14 years old daughter quietly. I bet She's trying to find words to console me when she's clearly on her husband's side . I can see it through her eyes .

" This time Dad messed up big okay . I don’t want you take his side. I just want her to be on my side." Before she says more I tell her .

“Look, I’ll talk to him,” Mom says, a small sigh escaping her lips. “But you have to remember—he’s your dad. He only does this because he cares about you. I know it feels unfair, but he doesn't want you hurt.”

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, well, he’s really good at making me feel hurt.”

Mom's gaze softens, but she doesn’t argue. Instead, she places her hand over mine gently. "I promise I’ll talk to him. But you should talk to him too. You’ll feel better."

I look away. "Maybe... but I don’t think he’s going to change."

Before I could say further the man of our discussion enters the kitchen with a bright smile on his face.

" Look Ishika, I found your favorite cauliflower--"

"Go away Dad , I'm not gonna talk to you " I say and leave from there . I hear him asking mom what happened to me , then calling me again and again while coming behind me .

" Ishika ! My darling bachha!! "

" go away "

" I'm not sorry Ishika . How dare she make fun of you " .

I turn around and pout angrily. " then why are you running behind me ? "

" so that you won't be angry with me "

" I'm not gonna talk to you Dad "

" Ishika! Ishu !!! Princess!!!! "

🕛

Present

“Hey,” Nidhi’s voice breaks through my reverie. She’s holding two steaming mugs of hot chocolate, her brow furrowed with concern. “Where are you lost?”

I blink, my gaze snapping back to her, and I shake my head, a small smile forming on my lips as I take the mug she hands me. “Nowhere. Just thinking.”

Nidhi doesn’t look convinced, " You’re thinking about Uncle's words right ? Don't please. He's just upset with you "

" I know Nidhi, I know. But I always hope to get back my Dad again . "

The warmth of the hot chocolate is comforting, and for a moment, I lose myself in the simple pleasure of it.

But then, I hear a soft, insistent meow coming from the doorway, and I turn just in time to see a familiar black-and-white cat trot in, its green eyes fixed on us with undeniable purpose.

"Meow!"

I can't help but laugh under my breath. "Well, look who’s here."

Poppy , the cat sits down a few feet away, its gaze unwavering. It meows again, louder this time, tail flicking impatiently. "Oh, you want biscuits again, don’t you?" I say with a smile, reaching into the cupboard for a biscuit tin.

I break a piece off and toss it toward the cat, who immediately pounces on it, devouring it like it’s the best thing it’s ever tasted.

Nidhi’s eyes light up. “Aww, it’s so cute! Lemme pet him ”

Before I can respond, Nidhi leans down, attempting to coax poppy closer, but the moment she makes a move toward it, the cat darts away with a flick of its tail, disappearing under the table.

Nidhi chuckles, half-embarrassed. “he’s so skittish! I just want to pet her, but he won’t let me.”

I roll my eyes, an amused smile playing at my lips. “You already know, right? That’s my Dad’s cat. Poppy doesn’t let anyone touch him except for Dad. Then why do you always try to catch him?”

Nidhi pouts, crossing her arms with a mock frown. “" The same reason why you always try to lure him with treats . You know right , It’s just so tempting! Look at him—he’s so cute. I can’t help it just like you”

" I can’t debate with that " I laugh .

Then shaking my head fondly, walking toward the door. “Come on, let’s go to the balcony. The cat’s not in the mood for company, clearly.”

With a disappointed sigh, Nidhi follows me, her pout still intact. "I swear, every time I try, he runs away."

~•~

The cool night air brushes against my face as I step out onto the balcony, the distant hum of the city almost soothing in its familiarity. Nidhi follows me outside, her soft chuckle echoing in the stillness. We settle into the old wicker chairs, hot chocolate cups in hand, the warmth of the drink a welcome contrast to the crispness of the evening. I wrap my hands around the mug, enjoying the quiet, the comfort of this moment.

It's just us here, no distractions, no looming responsibilities.

I glance over at Nidhi, the way the soft glow from the streetlights hits her face, making her eyes seem to sparkle even more than usual. She’s always been radiant, but lately there’s been a quiet tension around her. I can tell, even if she doesn’t always show it.

"So," I start, my voice casual, but I can't help the curiosity slipping through, "when are you going for your wedding shopping? It’s just two months away, Nidhi. You’re running out of time."

Nidhi laughs softly, taking a slow sip of her hot chocolate, her eyes moving over the balcony railing as if the answer is written in the sky. "I know," she says quietly. "I’ve been putting it off. Everything’s been happening so fast. But I’ll get there soon. I promise."

I nod, letting the moment hang in the air for a second before I tilt my head. “Speaking of Nikhil, why did he send you flowers today? I mean, it’s not like he’s someone to just—” I trail off, unsure of how to put it.

Nidhi's face tightens for a fraction of a second, but then she relaxes, a sad smile tugging at her lips. “Oh, that. He’s probably sorry for giving me less time lately."

I frown, setting my mug down on the table beside me, feeling the weight of her words. “Did something happen?”

Nidhi exhales slowly, her gaze softening. “I confronted him about it today. About how absent-minded he’s been lately. He’s been so caught up with his work, always busy with his engineering projects. He’s been trying to balance it all, but I don’t think he’s realized how much it’s affecting us. Especially with the wedding coming up."

She pauses, biting her lip, almost as if the words are stuck somewhere deep inside her, unwilling to come out.

“Do you think he’s just… too focused?” I ask, my voice gentle. I don’t want to make things harder for her, but I’m genuinely curious.

Nidhi shrugs, a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. “Maybe. He’s always been dedicated to his work, you know? He’s a well-reputable electrical engineer, and he loves what he does. But sometimes, I feel like I’m not a priority anymore.”

I nod, understanding the frustration in her voice. "I get it. But at least he sent the flowers. Maybe he realizes he’s been neglecting you a bit."

Nidhi gives a small, wry smile, her fingers tracing the rim of her cup. “Yeah, well… I guess it’s his way of saying sorry. But honestly, I just need him to make more time for us. For me."

" Arey , don't worry I guess after all within just two months he's going to tie the knot with you . He must be busy with planning holidays with you"

I say in a teasing manner, an attempt to lift her mood . She blushes . Mission accomplished.

" Tumhare man main bare laddo phoot rahain hain " [ you're showing too much excitement thinking this ]

Rolling her eyes while smiling she says .

" Yeah , why not . Now that you'll get married to him . I'm sure you two will plan babies. And then it'll be my time to shine . I'll spoil your kids to rotten , bish . I'll take revenge for the times you didn't listen to me and spoiled my innocent Ishaan "

Nidhi pouts. " remind me again, why I'm friends , no , bestfriends to a petty woman like you"

" You love me . And only I can bear your tantrums " sheepishly smiling I tell her and she bursts into laughter.

" Lower your broken tape recorder voice bish . People will think . I'm doing black magic" I laugh silently. But this nidhi nudges me . Bloody bish .

We sit there, the warmth of our hot chocolate keeping the chill at bay, the quiet of the night wrapping around us like a protective blanket.

I don't wanna disturb this peaceful moment. But I can’t help but utter lowly.

" I met him today morning "

Still focusing on her hot chocolate Nidhi asks " who ? "

" Siddhartha !"

As soon as I that word Nidhi turns het towards me . Her eyes widen and mouth opened.

" what ! "

" yeah , I met him at mall while doing grocery shopping  . I was away from Ishaan for a minute and that man was talking to him "

" Fvk ! . How dare that man talk to Ishaan? That too after all these years "

" I know right . I called him and took Ishaan away from him "

" you did right Ishika . Next time he comes near Ishaan  you call me okay , I'll punch him "

A laugh leavs my mouth hearing her .

" Nah , he's not worth it for you to go behind the bars "

" That’s true too . Let's forget about him then "

"Good idea . Bloody b@sterd "

Nidhi laughs at my words then she suddenly uttered " wait ! "

Nidhi  stands up, her eyes lighting up with excitement. "Wait, I’ve got a gift for you!" she exclaims. I look up from where I’m sitting, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"You do?" I ask, surprised. "What’s the occasion?"

She grins mischievously, a little too eager. "I went to the Titan store today, and on my way back, I bought something for you. It’s a surprise!" With that, she hurries off to the guest room.

I can’t help but smile, amused by her excitement. Nidhi always has a way of making the simplest moments feel special. A few moments later, she returns with a small bag, her face practically glowing as she hands it to me.

"Here," she says, her eyes sparkling. "Open it!"

I take the bag from her and carefully pull out the tissue paper, revealing a beautiful watch. It's from Titan’s Raga collection, just like she mentioned. The design is elegant, with a small silver dial and delicate detailing. I tried not to frawn as I'm not fond of silver watches and  Nidhi knows it too . Still don't know why this time she chose to buy a silver watch for me . I shrug my shoulders.

But as I hold it up to my wrist, I notice Nidhi’s face falling, a look of confusion and disappointment washing over her.

"Ishika, wait," she says, her voice faltering slightly. "That’s not the watch I picked."

My eyes become more confused, looking from the watch to Nidhi’s face. My heart sinks a little seeing her gloomy face. "What do you mean?"

Nidhi points to the watch in my hand, her expression darker now. "This is silver, Ishika. I specifically bought the gold one for you. A small gold dial, from the Titan Raga collection. This one’s all wrong."

She curses under her breath, muttering about how the store boy must have given her the wrong one. I’m about to say something when my eyes catch sight of a small note tucked inside the bag, hidden beneath the tissue paper.

" wait, there's a note here too"

I pull it out, and my gaze narrows as I read the words written in elegant handwriting: “For my sweetie from yours only V"

" this seems to be someone else's gift nidhi "

Nidhi’s face drains of color as the truth finally clicks. “Oh my God," she whispers. "It must have been switched when I was at the counter. I bumbed into a stranger. And our bags fell. I didn’t even notice. That’s... that’s so embarrassing.”

I can’t help but laugh, the entire situation suddenly amusing in its own way. "Well, looks like you got a random guy’s gift instead of my watch."

Nidhi groans, rubbing her temples. "I swear, I’m going to march to that mall tomorrow and return this watch. I can’t believe this happened."

I raise an eyebrow, not letting the moment slip by too easily. "You’re really going to return it? It’s a pretty nice silver watch, Nidhi. Maybe it won’t hurt my collection."

She pouts, crossing her arms. “But it’s not the one I wanted to get for you! You deserve the one I picked out.”

I chuckle softly, shaking my head. "It’s okay, really. One silver watch won’t hurt."

Nidhi glares at me for a moment, clearly not convinced. But before she can respond, I burst into laughter, unable to contain it any longer. The absurdity of the situation, the whole mix-up—it’s too funny.

Nidhi’s face softens as she watches me laugh, the pout on her lips slowly turning into a reluctant smile "You’re impossible," she mutters, but there’s no real heat behind it.

"Hey," I say between giggles, "at least you’ve got a funny story to tell now. And it’s not the worst thing that’s happened today."

She sighs dramatically, but I can see the smile tugging at her lips. "Okay, okay. I guess one silver watch won’t ruin my life," she admits begrudgingly.

"Good," I reply, still chuckling. "Now, come on. Let’s get back to that balcony. It’s still a nice night."

As we step back outside, the warmth of the moment lingers, the chaos of the little mishap melting away into laughter. And despite the mix-up, it’s the perfect way to end the evening.

Chapter 11

Ishika Arora

The morning sunlight streams through the kitchen window, casting a soft glow over the cluttered countertops. The scent of fresh aloo paratha fills the air, and my stomach growls despite my best efforts to ignore it. It’s the Monday morning, and the rush of the day has already settled in. The clock ticks away, reminding me that time is a precious commodity I barely have enough of.

I glance down at Ishaan, who is sitting at the dining table, his legs swinging beneath him. His school uniform is neatly pressed, his backpack already by his side, but his small face is a picture of reluctance. He doesn’t want to go to school today. I can see it in his eyes, even though he hasn’t said anything yet.

Why would he want to go . After all his favorite Nidhi masi is here with her . Though that woman hasn't come to breakfast table yet . She has woken up late today. And not she's in the washroom , freshening up .

I shake my head and I smile at him, trying to make him understand that I'm also not taking off from office just to be with his Nidhi masi , as mom places a warm paratha on his plate, the steam rising from the golden-brown flatbread. “Here, Aan , eat your paratha. You’ll need your energy for school.”

Ishaan’s eyes light up at the sight of the paratha, and without a second thought, he picks up the paratha and begins tearing into it, taking messy bites that send crumbs scattering onto the table. He's quite good at eating all by himself given he's just a five years old baby .

My heart melts just a little at the sight of his innocence, his complete lack of concern for the chaos of the day ahead .

From the living room, I hear the familiar voice of my father. He's watching cricket match while eating his breakfast just like any other day . Throughout the years what remained constant in him is his love for cricket and eating breakfast while watching cricket.

“What’s the score, Dev?” I hear mom calling him out while serving me a paratha and taking herself one . She sits on the chair while keeping more warm parathas on table for Nidhi .

“India’s up by thirty,” he responds, his voice thick with concentration. Mom nods and then shifts her concentration to poppy . He's sitting near Dad .  Watching the Tv as if he understands everything. Mom calls him out .

" Poppy , bachha , want to eat a bite from me ? " Mom asks poppy in baby voice . He looks at mom then Dad . He rubs his head on Dad's shoulder then continues watching Tv . His this behavior isn't foreign to Mom , us . This indicates only one thing . He doesn't want to eat paratha . I swear, this cats know our language . They just prefer to play dumb so that they don't need to listen and pay tax .

Mom pats Ishaan’s head once then finally starts to eat her paratha .

I continue to eat mine then turn my attention back to Ishaan, who’s now almost finished with his paratha.

“Good boy,” I say, ruffling his messy hair. “You’ve eaten most of it. Now, one more bite, and then we’ll get ready to leave.”

Ishaan scrunches his nose in mock distaste but takes the last bite without a fuss. “I don’t want to go to school today, Mama,” he says, his voice tinged with that all-too-familiar whine.

I pout looking at him , trying my best to look sympathized with him . “I know, Ishaan. I know. But school is important, and you’ll have so much fun with your friends today. Plus, you’ll see me later, okay?”

He pouts for a moment but then nods reluctantly. “Okay, Mama.”

I reach out to him and kiss the top of his head .

"Pssspsss ! Poppy ! "

I along with Mom and Ishaan turn our heads to see Nidhi , taking her chair beside Ishaan while trying to get attention of Poppy . I roll my eyes . Mom stuffs her face with morsel of paratha to hide her chuckle from nidhi . Ishaan though without any filter blurrs out.

"Arey, Nidhi Masi," Ishaan blurts out, his mouth still half-full of paratha, "Poppy doesn’t like many people. And you're one of them "

Poppy, our sleek black cat with attitude for days, shoots Nidhi a withering glare from his seat beside Dad , tail flicking like he’s offended to his core.

Nidhi gasps in mock outrage. "Excuse me, Mr. Cat Whisperer! I was just saying hello, okay? Someone’s got to bring some energy to this house in the morning."

She stretchs her hand, reaching for a piece of paratha from the serving plate.

"Help yourself, why don’t you," I mutter dryly.

"Don’t mind if I do," she grins, tearing the paratha into pieces with practiced ease. "Garima Aunty's parathas are basically divine intervention. I’m doing a public service by not letting them go to waste."

I shake my head, amused, and tear my paratha and bite into it ,  just as Nidhi turns to me with a sly smile that immediately puts me on alert.

"So, Ishika," she starts, drawing out my name like it’s part of some grand scheme, "I found this adorable little café near the metro station. Super cute, open windows, good desert, books on shelves—your kind of vibe."

I raise an eyebrow. “And?”

“And…” She leans in conspiratorially. “We should go. Today. Lunch break. Just you and me. Sister catch-up time.”

I scoff, setting my cup down. “Nidhi, it’s Monday. You realize that, right? Monday. The day the universe collectively decides to test my patience at work. No way I can sneak off to sip cappuccinos and pretend life is peaceful.”

She gives me a dramatic eye-roll. “Oh come on. One hour won’t hurt. You always say your boss is too busy romancing with your new colleague "

I sigh.

Mom chuckles behind her mug of chai but doesn’t stop her. Instead, she leans toward me with a subtle nudge. “You know, you should go out for lunch today. You’ve been looking so drained lately, Ishu. A little air—won’t hurt.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “you too, Mom?”

Nidhi throws an arm around Mom’s shoulder like they’ve been in cahoots all along. “Teamwork makes the dream work.”

I sigh, crossing my arms. “It’s Monday. The worst day to be alive. My inbox will explode before noon. And you want me to sneak out to sip overpriced lattes?”

Nidhi claps her hands, paratha crumbs flying. “YES. That is exactly what I want you to do. Thank you for summarizing.”

“Beta,” Mom adds with a smile that’s both gentle and strategic, “it’s not a crime to take one lunch break for yourself. You always say you don’t get time for anything but work and Ishaan. Nidhi’s your best friend. Go. Laugh a little.”

I look at Ishaan for backup, but the little traitor is too busy feeding a piece of his paratha to Poppy, who now looks entirely unbothered by Nidhi’s earlier greeting. Typical. This Poppy , always eats the last morsel from Ishaan’s plates as if it's some kind of prasad for him .

“I don’t know…” I murmur, already losing the battle.

“I’ll pick you up at 1:30 sharp,” Nidhi says, brushing her hands together like the decision is final. “You better not ghost me, or I swear I’m barging into your office with a megaphone.”

I sigh, rubbing my temple. “This is emotional manipulation, just so we’re clear.”

Nidhi smirks. “Only the good kind.”

Mom winks. “The best kind.”

And just like that, I know I’ve lost.

I get up from my seat and went to my room while nidhi continues with her breakfast. I grab my bag and fix my hair while last time looking at mirror.

" Aan , be ready . We'll head out now " .I say to Ishaan. I  know he nods his head while his grandpa tells him to be brave and good boy , and how he'll go to pick him up . I can also imagine him saying bye to poppy .

I smile thinking about this little things .

Then I come out.

I slip on my shoes quickly, feeling the soft leather hug my feet as I rush to gather my things. Ishaan’s little backpack is already slung over one shoulder, and I’m just about to head out the door when the doorbell rings, cutting through the busy silence of the morning.

I glance at the clock—no time for surprises. I turn to Nidhi, who’s already standing up from the couch, brushing a stray lock of hair out of her face.

“Can you get that?” I ask, already reaching for my phone to check for any urgent messages from work.

“Of course,” Nidhi replies, sounding far too chipper for Monday morning. But who am I kidding. That's a ceo right their . Owner of her own company. A company which is doing good in its field . She can definitely not stress over Monday morning for a time being. Her focus is definitely on spending time with family before her hectic wedding month will start.

Nidhi walks over to the door . She pulls it open without a second thought.

The moment the door swings wide, a huge mass of fur and excitement bursts into the house, sending Nidhi stumbling back in surprise.

"Bozzo!" Nidhi laughs in disbelief, barely managing to keep her balance as the massive Labrador Retriever jumps up, tail wagging furiously. The dog’s warm, wet nose lands squarely on Nidhi’s chest, and he starts nuzzling his face with hers occasionally barking.

I can feel poppy's ears getting sharp hearing Nidhi's doggo's sound . That cat fears bozzo with all his life though bozzo doesn't harm him . He's the one who’s likely to hit or scratch bozzo .

“Bozzo, down!” she laughs, trying to push him back, but the dog’s enthusiasm is contagious. He ignores her command, continuing to shower her with affection. His big paws land on her stomach, making her giggle. “What are you doing here, you crazy dog?” she says between laughter, looking over her shoulder toward me with a surprised expression.

That's my exact question

But before I can even ask, another figure steps into the doorway, a man who catches my attention immediately. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, and exudes an air of confidence that makes him seem... well, almost out of place in my morning madness.

“Sorry about Bozzo. He’s been... a little too excited this morning,” the man says, his voice smooth, deep, and calm, but there's a playful glint in his eyes as he looks down at Nidhi trying to wrangle the dog. His gaze shifts to me, and there’s a brief moment where our eyes meet. He gives a polite smile .

Nidhi , still surrounded by bozzo blinks , surprised. “Uh... I didn’t know you were coming by Abhiman,” She says  , the words my mind's scrambling to make sense of the situation.

Abhiman, Abhiman Kapur looks at Nidhi , his spine straight, his tight light blue T-shirt clinging to his well build physique. He scratches his nap while sheepishly smiling.

“Oh, I wasn’t planning to,” he replies, brushing a stray lock of his dark hair out of his forehead. “But Bozzo seemed to miss Nidhi during his walk this morning, so I thought I’d drop him off.” He gestures toward the dog, who is now enthusiastically licking Nidhi’s hands again. “couldn't keep him with me knowing you would be here.”

"But Abhiman, you should've called me . I would've informed Ishu and Aunty " Nidhi says to him . He just smiles being embarrassed . Bozzo’s eyes now landed on me . He come towards me and tried to jump on me . Aww such a big baby . I pet him while he barks and wiggles his tail .

" I- I didn't think about it mam . I was taking him to morning walk then---"

"Bozzo !!!! "

Before he can complete his sentence a loud voice interrupts him . Ishaan, who’s coming towards us , lets out a happy shriek of excitement. His eyes light up when he spots the Labrador. “Bozzo! Bozzo!” he exclaims, rushing toward the dog, his face lit with pure joy.

This boy . He seriously gonna pet him till he sweats . I shake my head then my eyes notices the clock . Oh my goodness. We need to seriously head out in couple of minutes. Unless we will be late .

“ Ishaan! Come back here! We’re already late, don’t start playing with him now!”

But my warning is too late. Ishaan is already kneeling down in front of Bozzo, who’s wagging his tail furiously, clearly thrilled to have a new playmate. Ishaan giggles as the dog licks his face, his small hands trying to pet the large dog. “He’s so soft, Mama!” Ishaan says, laughing through his little giggles, completely lost in the joy of the moment.

I step forward, kneeling beside them. “Ishaan, you have to stop. We’re running late,” I say, trying to pull him away gently. But it’s no use—he’s utterly enchanted by the dog’s affection, his small hands still petting Bozzo.

Before I can respond, I hear a soft hiss from across the room. My eyes flick to the corner where Poppy, my father’s black cat, is sitting. His green eyes narrow at the large dog, and she instantly goes on alert, her back arching as he watches Bozzo with an unmistakable look of disdain.

“Poppy, no,” I mutter under my breath, but it’s too late. The cat bolts from the room, dashing under the dining table in a blur of sleek black fur, clearly terrified of the overzealous Labrador. He straight goes to Dad who's watching all these standing beside wall along with mom .

I can’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of the situation. Of course, my cat would be terrified of Bozzo. Poppy and the dog have never gotten along, and it’s always a little dramatic when they’re in the same room.

My mother  looks over with a laugh. “Looks like Poppy’s going to hide under the table again. He always does that when there’s a big dog around,” she says, shaking her head in amusement. “Maybe she needs to get out more, poor thing.”

“Seems like it,” I reply, smiling at the familiarity of my mother’s observation.

" Why did you take him out " Mom says to Dad who looks at mom sulking . He goes inside to his room where poppy would be . He goes to calm poppy down knowing it's just Bozzo and Nidhi's secretary at the door . Mom too goes back to kitchen to prepare lunch.

I glance at the clock on the wall again. “We really need to go, Aan. Come on, we'll play with Bozzo later ".

Ishaan, still enamored with the dog, stands up reluctantly, brushing off his clothes. “Okay, Mama,” he says, giving Bozzo one last quick pat. “I’ll see you later, Bozzo,” he adds with a solemn nod as though the dog understands.

Ishaan takes my hand, and I’m finally able to guide him toward the door. Nidhi is still standing near the hallway, trying to wrangle Bozzo into a sit position. I heard her say to Abhiman  " Abhiman stay couple of minutes here . Then take Bozzo with you okay . Take a day off from office . I'll take Bozzo with me tomorrow "

I see him nodding his head . Bozzo is a really sweet dog . He stays well with whoever treats him and his parents,  Nidhi and Nikhil well .

“Sorry, Nidhi,” I say, feeling a bit guilty for not being able to let Bozzo stay here . Him and Poppy can't stay at same place for long .

She smiles at me, shaking her head. “No problem! Just... take care of yourself, okay? And be ready . I'll pick you up for caffee,” she adds with a wink, her tone light despite her earlier disappointment.

I nod quickly. “ okay , your highness "

" Bye Nidhi Masi . "

" Bye Ishaan,  have fun "

With a final wave to Nidhi , I and Ishaan head out of the door .

The car ride is sure to be filled with more small distractions, but for now, I’m thankful for one last quiet moment before the workday starts.

The drive to Ishaan’s school is a blur. He chatters away in the backseat, oblivious to the mounting tension in my chest. I try to focus on the road, on the task at hand, but my mind is already racing with the millions of things I need to tackle at work. Between the emails piling up, meetings stacked back-to-back, and a few bug fixes I promised to address, I know today is going to be one of those days where time slips through my fingers like sand.

As we pull into the school parking lot, I glance at Ishaan through the rearview mirror. His little face is already lighting up as he spots his friends near the school gate, their voices a cheerful hum in the distance.

“Okay, Ishaan, time to go,” I say gently, already unbuckling my seatbelt.

“Bye, Mama! See you later!” he says brightly, practically bouncing out of the car without a second thought.

“Have a good day at school,” I call after him, watching him run toward his friends. I can’t help but smile, even as the weight of my day presses down on me again.

I drive away from the school with a quiet sigh, my thoughts already turning to the office.

The office building looms before me, towering glass reflecting the morning sunlight as I pull into the parking garage. I quickly gather my bag and head up to the floor where my team sits, the familiar hum of the building filling my ears.

I’ve worked at this software company for three years now, and the routine is almost second nature—grab a green tea, check in with the team, see if any urgent issues have popped up overnight. The moment I settle into my desk, the noise of the world outside fades.

I open my laptop, the screen flickering to life as I log in to our internal system. My first task is a bug fix on a project I’ve been working on for the past couple of weeks. It’s a simple issue, but one that needs a quick turnaround. I set my green tea cup beside me, my fingers flying over the keyboard as I dive into the code.

I get lost in the rhythm of it—line after line of code, problem-solving and debugging, moving through each task with precision. The clock ticks by unnoticed as I immerse myself in work. It’s one of the things I love about being a software engineer: the quiet focus, the ability to lose yourself in a task and emerge with something functioning, something whole.

By the time I realize it, lunch has crept up on me.

I glance at the clock. It's almost 1:30 p.m., and I’m still in the middle of a particularly tricky section of code. I’ve made good progress, but I know I won’t be able to finish it in the next thirty minutes. Just as I’m about to decide if I can squeeze in a few more lines before heading out for lunch, I hear a soft knock on my cubicle wall.

I turn, startled, to see Nidhi standing there with a mischievous smile on her face. She’s always on time—no surprise there. Her expression is a mix of expectation and excitement, and I know that look.

“Ready for that cafe ?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

I let out a soft groan . " I need time Nidhi ".

I huff and she rollls her eyes .

"Then do it fast woman. "

" Do I look like a computer to you ? "

" Obviously not . A computer has punctuality which you don't even have p of "

" Hah, very funny " I roll my eyes and continue to do my work . She sits infront of me . Thank God , I've my own cabin . Unless I wouldn't be able to work knowing bunch of my colleagues looking at my crazy best friend waiting for me to finish my work .

But as time pases , I feel instead of getting work done , I'm messing up my work .

I try .

Try again .

But luck isn't seem to be on my side .

To be honest luck seems to be never on my side . But right now luck has totally forgotten that I exist.

So , I tightly smile to myself while looking at my laptop.  If I stare at it anymore time . I'm sure I'll break it .

“Okay, okay, you win,” I say, standing up and stretching. “I'm done . Now I need a break to shake these shts off my brain "

Nidhi grins. “I told you! You need a break .  Now come on, I’ve been waiting for you.”

I grab my bag, close my laptop, and make sure everything’s locked up. I give Nidhi a small smile as I follow her toward the elevator.

We get out of the office building and go towards the parking area where My car is . Nidhi haven't brought her car today. She came by an uber . Means I have to drop her either towards her office or home or whatever place she wants me to after our trip to this new cafe .

I unlock the car with a quick beep and slide into the driver’s seat, tossing my bag into the back. Nidhi’s already in the passenger seat, fiddling with the AC controls like she owns the place.

“Left from here, and then straight till the main circle,” she says, pulling out her phone to double-check the map. “It’s this cute little place just beyond Shivaji Market—heard great things.”

I glance at her. “You sure you know where we’re going? You know your sense of direction is like a confused squirrel.”

She rolls her eyes. “Excuse you, my inner GPS is thriving today.”

I chuckle, shifting gears. “Alright, lead the way, mighty squirrel.”

The traffic is its usual midday chaos, honks blaring and bikes zipping through gaps like they’ve got a death wish. I tap the steering wheel impatiently at a red light.

“So, you really didn’t bring your car because you wanted me to become your driver right ? Shame on you Nidhi yar” I ask.

“Shut up sht sherlock . You're  not capable of being  a driver . Can't  even shut your mouth while driving. So just be happy with my best friend tag” She winks.

“Bish,” I mutter, though I don’t really mind.

Ten minutes later, we pull into a narrow lane lined with little shops and an awning that reads 𝐵𝑒𝑎𝑛 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝐶𝑎𝑓𝑒̀ in faded gold letters. I park beside a pan shop and step out, stretching again.

“Nice spot,” I say, locking the car.

But instead of heading straight inside, Nidhi grabs my wrist.

“Wait! Look at all these stalls. Let’s do a quick round. It’ll take two seconds.”

I frown. “Nidhi. Food. My brain cells are threatening to unionize.”

She pouts. “Come onnnn. Look at those jhumkas! And that kurti stall—don’t you need something for that thing at your cousin’s engagement?”

“Not during my lunch break. I’ve got like max twenty minutes left. We even need to back Nidhi”

“You need a half-day off,” she says, dead serious. “You’ve been practically welded to that laptop all week. Actually back to back week . And don't  forget you just got done with our nemesis , periods ”

I cross my arms. “Nidhi—”

“No. No excuses. You’re always ‘busy’ and ‘deadline’ and ‘client call.’ Today, you’re eating vada pao with me, then you’re buying yourself something good. It’s an intervention.”

I groan. “Why are you like this?”

“Because I love you,” she sings, looping her arm around mine and dragging me toward the food cart. “Also because you get super cranky when you're hangry.”

She’s not wrong.

I as usual give up and go wherever she's taking me .

After walking couple of minutes We stand infront of a vada pao stall . My stomach growls seeing all delicious food infront of me . The stall surprisingly seems to be hygienic and clean too .

" Bhaiya , 2 vada pao for us , make both of it extra spicy." Nidhi orders our food . The stall keeper nods his head . There isn't much customers here which is kinda sad considering how hygienic this place looks . If the food is good . Then this place sure needs to get viral .

The vada pao guy already has a fresh batch sizzling. The smell of garlic chutney and fried batter hits me like a warm hug. We order two, extra spicy, and stand by the cart as we eat, watching the street bustle around us.

“This is exactly what I needed,” I admit between bites, licking chutney off my thumb.

“Told you,” she says smugly, mouth full.

After the food, she pulls me toward the stalls, eyes sparkling. I try to keep up while also checking my phone every two seconds.

“Ishika, breathe,” Nidhi says, batting my phone away. “Look at this scarf—gorgeous, right?”

I sigh dramatically but take the scarf. It is beautiful. Blue with tiny embroidered flowers.

Thirty minutes, four stalls, and one impulsive earring purchase later, I finally give in fully. We’re laughing over bargain battles and weirdly shaped kolhapuris when I glance at my watch.

“I think I’m calling in sick for the rest of the day,” I mumble.

Nidhi beams. “Victory!”

I shake my head and continue wondering with her .

We end up wandering through the streets, with Nidhi pulling me from one stall to the next, insisting I try on a few clothes. I like to shop , not gonna lie . But nidhi is something else . She shops more than me . She’s practically glowing, her energy contagious as she picks out colorful scarves, bohemian-style dresses, and vintage jewelry.

"Ishika, look at this!" Nidhi holds up a scarf with bright, vibrant patterns. "It’s perfect for you."

I take it from her, eyeing the colors. It’s pretty, but I know I don’t really need it. "I don’t know, Nidhi. I’m not really into bright colors," I say, holding the scarf up to my face.

"You need to step outside your comfort zone, darling," she teases, poking me gently in the ribs. "You’ve been living in black, white, and gray for too long."

I roll my eyes. "Fine, fine. I’ll try it on."

The next hour passes quickly. Nidhi buys a few more things, and I grab a cute sweater I wouldn’t have normally chosen for myself. We laugh and chat, the weight of work fading into the background. It’s strange, how a couple of hours of mindless shopping can feel like such a reset.

After a while, Nidhi links her arm through mine. "Okay, let’s go check out that new cafe I’ve been dying to see."

I nod, grateful for this small escape. "Sounds good. I’m curious to see what the buzz is about."

We go back to my car and leave the shopping bags in it .

Then we make our way to the trendy been there cafe, which is tucked into a quiet corner of the street. It’s got large windows that let in the soft afternoon light, the interior decorated with mismatched furniture and potted plants that add a touch of whimsy. There’s a calm, laid-back vibe here, the kind that makes you want to stay all afternoon sipping coffee and watching the world pass by.

We step inside, and I immediately feel at ease. The rustic charm of the place is exactly what I needed to feel grounded. I take a deep breath, enjoying the smell of freshly ground coffee beans and the hum of quiet conversation around us.

"See? I told you it was good ," Nidhi says, glancing around with a proud smile. "I think we need to come here more often."

I smile back at her. “It’s actually beautiful in inside too. I like the decor.”

We’re about to head further into the cafe to find a table when I hear someone call Nidhi’s name.

"Nidhi! Hey!"

She turns around, her face lighting up seeing a middle aged man infront of her . "Oh, Mr. Jha! What a surprise!"

Nidhi’s voice is full of warmth, and I glance over to see that middle aged man , mr. Jha in a neatly pressed suit approaching us. He seems to be the kind of person who exudes authority with an air of kindness . The way Nidhi is greeting him , he seems to be a client of Nidhi’s boutique . Quite an important client to be precise.

“Mr. Jha,” Nidhi says, giving him a polite but friendly smile. “It’s nice seeing you here . You're with Mrs Jha or ?”

" Oh no dear . Today I came here with a colleague of mine , you can say . Actually I've come often to this café . Haven't seen you here before though " . He asks nidhi with warm smile which nidhi reciprocates .

" You’re right Mr. Jha . It's just couple of days back I came to know about this café and today I came here with my friend. "

Then she looks at me " This is Ishika . My best friend "

" Hello dear "

" Hello " I smiled politely .

Before he can respond, I glance over his shoulder—and my breath catches. There, standing next to Mr. Jha, is someone I never thought I’d see again.

Siddhartha.

My stomach drops. It’s as if time has stopped, the entire cafe fading into the background as my gaze locks onto his. He looks... different. He’s wearing a dark gray jacket and looks sharper than I remember, his features more chiseled, his posture more confident. He’s talking to Mr. Jha, but the moment he notices me, his expression changes.

He looks as stunned as I feel.

I can’t look away. Our last meeting yesterday, our last meeting years ago the way everything had ended—it’s all still fresh in my mind.

Before I can gather my thoughts, I take a small step back, trying to hide my discomfort behind the soft murmur of the cafe. I’m not sure what’s worse—the shock of seeing him again or the fact that I’m now standing here, barely two feet away from him. My heart races, and I try to take a deep breath, but I don’t think I’m doing a very good job of hiding the sudden anxiety building in my chest.

And then, of course, in the next instant, I bump into him.

I barely notice the coffee cup in his hand, but as I step backward, it tips over, splashing all over me.

"Ah