In the labyrinth of life, fate often weaves unexpected threads that entwine the past, present, and desires yet to be realized.
This is a tale of Smriti Roy, an interior designer poised at the cusp of pivotal choices. Caught between the allure of he...
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9. Confrontations.
Shubman emerged from the bath to find Smriti lost in her thoughts. "You can use the bathroom now if you want," he offered. "I've put your clothes in for laundry, so feel free to borrow mine for now."
"I... have to get home," Smriti replied.
"I'll drop you," Shubman said promptly.
Later, Smriti returned after her shower, stepping into the living room. Shubman glanced up and saw her dressed in his black oversized T-shirt and cargos. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he appreciated her look.
"Thanks for everything," Smriti said appreciatively, feeling a tad uneasy about the situation. "But I really should get home. It's late, and I have to head to the office."
"Sure," Shubman replied, grabbing his keys and locking the door behind them. They walked out, and the watchman couldn't help but smile, seeing Smriti in Shubman's attire, both of them leaving together.
Reaching the car in the parking lot, Smriti settled into the passenger seat while Shubman took the driver's seat on the other side.
The ride was silent, the faint hum of the engine creating an atmosphere pregnant with unspoken sentiments. As the city lights streaked past, Smriti's voice pierced the silence.
"Do you live alone in such a big house?" she asked, her curiosity mingled with concern.
Shubman glanced at her briefly before fixing his gaze back on the road. "Yes, I find no company for myself as my family lives in Punjab."
After a moment's pause, her voice softened, "What about the promise you made last night? Are you willing to keep it?"
A sigh escaped Shubman as he contemplated her words. "I keep the promises I make most of the time," he replied, a hint of vulnerability seeping into his tone. "I know it would be hard, but I missed you too."
They reached Smriti's building, and Shubman pulled up by the curb. "Here we are," he stated quietly.
"Come in," she offered, a faint trace of hope in her voice.
He politely declined, "Thanks for the clothes. I'll return them soon."
"You can keep it," she replied softly, her eyes holding a hint of longing.
Their gazes lingered, filled with words left unspoken. A tender goodbye passed between them as they parted ways, each carrying the weight of their shared moment in the car.
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In the following days, the echo of their conversation lingered in Shubman's mind, an unspoken vow casting a shadow over his routine. The memory of Smriti's presence in his home, clad in his clothes, haunted his thoughts. He found solace in her familiar scent lingering on the fabric he'd lent her, a subtle reminder of the bond they once shared.
