16 | Conflicts

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"Hello to all the new people here who found this story through the Instagram reel! This story is being re-written, so some things and chapters may not match the earlier comments

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"Hello to all the new people here who found this story through the Instagram reel! This story is being re-written, so some things and chapters may not match the earlier comments. Please don't get confused. The characters have been changed due to some harsh criticism. Also, two new chapters have been uploaded with over 6k+ words. I would love to see LOTS of COMMENT SPAM to keep me motivated for the next one. Thank you for choosing this book!"

𝗡𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗮𝗽𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗲’𝘀 𝗣𝗢𝗩,

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𝗡𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗮𝗽𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗲’𝘀 𝗣𝗢𝗩,

It was around 7 PM, and Shivank was sitting in the same spot where Vaani had left him, his mind spiralling into every possible depressing thought. He had thought he was healing, that she was helping him heal. But now here he was, sitting on the floor with dried tears, just as he had during his darkest days. He used to at least talk to his family, but right now, he didn’t want to speak to anyone. 

Except for her.

His mind raced with worry. Where was she? Was she safe?

The anxiety clawed at him, making him more restless than he already was. Grabbing his phone and bike keys, he quickly left.

He reached the location shown on his phone and found himself in front of a big building. Letting out a sigh, he wondered how he was supposed to find her here.

Just as he was about to drive away in frustration, he spotted Vaani walking with her friend, Sherlyn, both carrying shopping bags. He knew Vaani wouldn’t shop from such expensive brands, which meant Sherlyn had done all the shopping and was now treating Vaani like her personal assistant.

Anger surged through him. He hopped off his bike and marched toward them, his expression dark. He snatched the bags from Vaani’s hands, shocking her, and dropped them on the road, pulling her away with him.

Opening the bike's tank, he grabbed a helmet and carefully placed it on her head, securing the strap under her chin. She silently stared at him as he muttered, “Ghar chalo tum, fir batata hu…”

“Shivank, mujhe nahi jaana hai,” she responded coldly, taking off the helmet.

Sherlyn, picking up the bags, yelled, “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

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