[FEATURED IN WATTPAD INDIA PROFILE]
❝Pioneering the art of constructing love, my Kanmani.❞
Xavier teased her skin, slowly caressing her cheeks and her lips trembled.
❝You don't dare!❞
And he kissed her.
------
When he had compromised his dreams and...
♬ bichhad ki bhi mujhse juda to nahin... khafa hai magar bewafa to nahin...
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Year: 2023
"Sixty lakhs, that's all?" Xavier raised a questioning brow at Alisha.
Alisha Mukherjee wasn't only his childhood friend; she had also been his first adolescent crush—though likely just a fleeting infatuation, perhaps an overreaction of adolescent hormones. Over time, his bond with her evolved from simple friendship to feelings that stirred butterflies, ultimately maturing into a deep, adult appreciation for her friendship.
And he cared for her, as she did for him.
"Yeah. And I'll repay...as soon as possible," she replied with a casual wave of her hand. Alisha had never borrowed money from anyone. In fact, she rarely sought help from anyone besides her closest friends—Xav and Iksha. She had endured enough hardships to consider her independence a non-negotiable strength.
"Ali, I'm not running a charity here," he teased, scratching at her ego as he'd loved doing since they were kids. He had enough wealth to fully fund her ventures and more. Whether or not she repaid him didn't really matter; he'd gladly invest in her talent. But provoking her was a cherished pastime.
A seething Bengal tigress—that was the likeness she projected.
"Get lost!" she hissed.
Profanities, curses, the usual racket. Ah!
He grinned. "Where would you go without me?" Her eye-roll made him laugh, loud and unrestrained.
In the confines of his cabin, each sound echoed clearly, and Alisha couldn't hide her smile. It had been ages since anyone had seen him laugh like this. It was as though he'd forgotten how to be happy, and for a moment, she felt a quiet joy, knowing she'd been the one to bring that laughter back.
Noticing her gaze, he grew quiet.
"You should do that more," she murmured.
Signing a check, he glanced at her. "I'll try." His voice was as cold as ice—a chill reflective of how he'd become.
"By the way, Iksha called yesterday," she began, trying to draw him back. "She's joined a new hospital as a Cardiothoracic Surgery Resident."
"Well, good for her. She doesn't care to update me, anyway." He grew uncomfortable, sensing the conversation turning slightly sour.
Samiksha Agnihotri Singh—or their Iksha—had once been his close friend, maybe even his best friend. She was sharp, excelling academically as he did. But her marriage to his former brother-in-law strained their bond, especially after his divorce from Subhadra.
