𝓑𝓻𝓸𝓴𝓮𝓷.

Chapter - 7

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Vihaan ~

I stepped out onto my porch, seeking a moment of quiet. That's when I noticed her—Shivanya, leaning against the railing of the porch next door. Her usual composure seemed fractured under the moonlight.

"Hey." Taran said, and I saw Shivanya flinch slightly before turning to face him as he walked to her.

"Are you okay?" Taran moved closer, and I felt my grip tighten around my coffee mug as I saw Shivanya step a bit further away but keep her gaze on him.

"Yeah, just needed a breather," she responded, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

Taran leaned against the railing next to her, his proximity unsettling. "You seem... distant. Is everything alright, Shivi? I hope you know that my wedding with Radhika changes no aspect of our friendship, right?"

The edge of the mug dug into my palm as I watched Taran stand so close to her, speaking with such easy familiarity. My jaw tightened, and I shifted my stance, struggling to keep my composure.

Shivanya hesitated, a flicker of pain crossing her features. "Just... a lot on my mind, I guess." Her voice was soft, almost resigned.

"You know, you can talk to me, right? Whatever it is, I'm here for you," Taran insisted. The way he looked at her, the concern in his eyes, stirred a bitter feeling inside me and I could feel my jaw ticking.

"I appreciate that, Taran," she replied, managing a small smile. "But really, it's nothing I can't handle."

He studied her for a moment, eventually nodding. "Alright. Just know that I'm here if you ever need to talk."

"Thanks," she murmured.

They stood in silence for a while but my eyes never left them, every movement, every glance between them stirring a slow burn within me. Eventually, Taran broke the quiet.

"I should probably get back inside," he said, glancing towards the open door.

Shivanya nodded, offering him a reassuring smile. "Yeah, go ahead. I'll join you in a bit."

As he disappeared back into the house, I saw Shivanya let out a heavy sigh, her shoulders slumping under the weight of her longing towards him. She seemed so small, so fragile in that moment.

"Shivanya."

I saw her jump slightly at my voice, her eyes widening as she turned to face me.

"Mr. Raichand?" She stood confused for a split second before realization dawned. "You live here?"

I nodded, taking a step closer. "You are getting married to him?" My voice was calm, but the sharp edge in it betrayed my composure.

"What? No! Taran is marrying my sister, not me," Her voice, sharp with defensiveness, echoed in the stillness.

But the tremor that ran beneath her words, the raw vulnerability in her eyes, struck me like a bolt of lightning. The ache that clouded her gaze, the unspoken yearning – it wasn't directed at me. It was all for him.

The realisation was a physical blow. The possessiveness that had simmered beneath the surface solidified into a cold, hard jealousy. She was in love with him.

"You're in love with him, aren't you?" I asked, my voice steady, my jaw clenched.

Shivanya's face flushed, her eyes widening in shock. She opened her mouth to protest, to deny the truth, but the words seemed to stick in her throat. Slowly, she turned her back to me and yet I saw that tear down her cheek.