**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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"Kiss me, Alan," she breathed. "I know you love me."
My body tensed. I couldn't take advantage of her like this, not when the alcohol had clearly loosened her inhibitions. "You're drunk, Fiza," I murmured soothingly. "Shhh..."
But she shook her head in an exaggerated movement. "I don't want her touching you," she declared, clutching my shirt. "You are mine, just mine. I don't share."
The desire that had been dancing with fear in my heart surged, intoxicating and terrifying. What I wouldn't give, to have her lips against mine, to be hers and for her to be solely mine.
But I didn't know if she would still want this when she was sober.
Cautiously, I pulled her closer, enfolding her in my arms. She melted against me, a soft, contented moan escaping her as my hands glided down her back, settling a few inches behind her waist.
"I want to stay here forever," she mumbled against my chest, her voice muffled.
I planted a kiss on the crown of her head, my lips lingering there for a long moment while I breathed her in. When I finally pulled back, she lifted her gaze to meet mine.
"On my lips, Alan," she whispered, her eyes pleading with mine. "I want to feel your lips on mine again."
Gently, I cradled her face in my hands, my thumb tracing the softness of her lower lip. "Not like this, princess. Not when you're not yourself."
I would not to repeat the same mistakes of the past. I remembered the day she had uttered those fateful words—"I want you"—and I had foolishly, desperately kissed her, thinking it was real, that it was love, not just lust, that had made her say those words. But she had regretted it, and the strain it had placed on our relationship for months afterward was a wound I never wanted to reopen.
"We'll talk about this in the morning." But even as I spoke the words, I couldn't resist pulling her closer, savoring the feel of her body against mine, silently praying that this was real.
"You don't want me," Fiza mumbled softly, her grip on me refusing to relent. She couldn't have been further from the truth. "I still think about it... You touching me... You're the only one who has."
My restraint wavered, my self-control teetering on the edge of breaking. I gently broke free from her embrace. My breathing was labored, my emotions raw, as I searched her eyes.
"Are you scared to commit to me?" Fiza questioned, her voice soft and shaking slightly. "Is that why you won't..."
But before I could even begin to formulate a response, she vomited on my shoes.
"Okay, buddy," I murmured, quickly lifting her up and carrying her bridal-style to Chandran's parents' bathroom. There, I held her hair back as she heaved into the toilet, quietly rubbing her back.
