Four best friends.
One wedding.
A reunion that was never meant to happen.
Time changed everything. But not their pasts. Not the glances that still sting.
Not the love that never really left. One waits for her, clinging to a love that never faded. O...
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The bass thrummed through my veins like a second heartbeat, the club's neon haze blurring the edges of exhaustion into something almost euphoric. Haldi had been a whirlwind of turmeric-stained chaos under the relentless midday sun.
Myra, Tani, and Isha dragging me through rituals that left us sun-baked and spent. But here, in this pulsing den of shadows and strobe lights, shots of something fiery and amber chased away the ache.
One more.
My mind had begged, and we'd obliged until the count blurred into oblivion. I slumped beside Tani on the sticky leather booth, our laughter spilling over the rim of empty glasses like fizzy overflow.
Isha leaned in, her eyes wicked with mischief. "Spill it, Tani. How's it going with Rohan?" She groaned, rolling her eyes so dramatically her earrings swung like pendulums.
"Just don't-" She slammed back another shot, the liquid courage painting her cheeks rosy. Everyone knew the story—Rohan's quiet devotion, a flame Tani pretended not to notice. "Agar woh idhar dikha na, I'm surely going to smack him." she added, but her voice hitched, betraying the thrill beneath the protest.
(If he shows up here... I'm surely going to smack him.)
I snorted, clinking my glass to hers. "And I won't be surprised." We dissolved into giggles, the kind that knit us tighter, until Tani's gaze snagged on something across the room.
She leaned in, whispering. "Swear to the stars... I see him. Rohan. Right there, by the bar. "I chuckled, the alcohol fuzzing my edges. "What, you're so smitten you're hallucinating? Love's got you seeing him in every shadow?"
But I followed her pointing finger anyway, squinting through the crowd. And there he was. Rohan's lanky frame, unmistakable in that rumpled shirt, nursing a drink with that boyish half-smile.
My stomach twisted. Worse, though, was the shadow at his elbow. Him. The pervert. All sharp jaw and sharper eyes, scanning the room like he owned the night. Tani's giggle turned brittle.
"No way. Tell me I'm drunk."
"Dead sober confirmation," Myra chimed in, her voice slicing through our bubble. She jerked her chin toward them, casual as a death sentence. "They're both here. For real."
The laughter evaporated, leaving a sour tang on my tongue. Tani's face crumpled into a pout. "We thought it was just us."
I couldn't breathe, couldn't sit there under the weight of his gaze, I felt it already, prickling like static. What was I supposed to do? Climb on the table and twirl a welcome banner?
No.
My legs moved on instinct, traitors to my pounding heart. "Be right back," I muttered, weaving through the throng toward the washroom, the air thick with sweat and synthetic perfume.
