**Winner 2024 Amby Awards**
Fiza has everything planned-medical school, a respectable future, and an engagement she never wanted. Determined to escape a loveless match, she creates a checklist to find the perfect husband her father will approve of.
...
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No. This wasn't part of the deal. What Mownika and I had was supposed to be separate. Clean. A transaction for mutual pleasure, no strings, no overlap into the fragile, real thing I was building with Fiza. Seeing her name there felt like a violation, a stain on something pure.
My mind flashed back to Aarthy. I had thought her touch meant something. The memories came next, visceral and humiliating. Her on top of me. The sudden cruel yank of my hair. The hot sting of tears I couldn't hold back. "Can't you fucking hold it in till I cum? Get out!" Clutching my clothes in that hotel corridor, begging her to let me back in. "So emotional. Are you sure you aren't a little girl on the inside?"
I had to blink, hard, to force the images away. Fiza had gone quiet, staring out the window. I could almost feel the shift in her. She had asked me for friendship. I would give her friendship. Whatever attraction was sparking between us was just that—a spark. It couldn't be more. It couldn't be more. I would never let it be more. I would protect her from me.
"Are you okay?" I asked softly, the words feeling inadequate forbsone reason. Like I owed her.
Her gaze shifted from the window to meet mine. Her eyes were wide, vulnerable, and in their depths, I saw a reflection of my own conflict—a touch of sadness, a hint of longing, and a question neither of us knew how to answer.
I desperately wished I was a different person. Someone whole. Someone who could commit, who had something real to offer beyond a good time in bed.
The intensity of it all crashed over me, a wave I couldn't fight anymore. My instincts took over, and I pulled her toward me and leaned in, aiming to place a soft kiss on her cheek. But before my lips could even brush her skin, her hands came up between us, pushing me away with a firmness that shocked me back to reality.
The look on her face—pure, unadulterated shock—extinguished whatever weird tenderness I had been feeling towards her.
"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice shaking.
I swallowed, scrambling to collect the shattered pieces of my composure. "I... I'm sorry," I managed to choke out. I had ruined it. I had crossed some invisible line she'd drawn.
"You are my friend," she emphasized, her voice quiet but filled with determination. "And I've told you before, I don't... I can't..." Her voice trailed off as she looked away, a subtle, heartbreaking shadow of sadness crossing her features.
I braced myself for it—for her to yell, to tell me to get lost, to finally see me for the mess I truly was. But instead, she did something that shattered me completely.
She shifted closer and positioned herself so her head rested gently against my chest.
I froze, barely breathing. The rhythm of my heart hammered against my ribs while I stayed perfectly still, my arms rigid at my sides, terrified that I would do something wrong.
