'Ishan Oberoi' - The name that echoes success, power, and resilience. A rising billionaire who carved his empire with his own hands, refusing to ride on his father's wealth. Yet, he never turned his back on his responsibilities as a son. Balancing h...
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AADHRITI'S POV :
Time really does fly. It’s been three weeks since the day I was supposed to get engaged… but instead, I ended up in a hospital bed.
Ishan had stayed the night I got discharged from the hospital. Quiet. Worried. Present. But the next morning, he left. Since then, we’ve exchanged a few calls and some texts not too many, not too few. Just enough to feel his presence lingering in the spaces I’d rather not be alone in.
Every day, without fail, he texts me. Did you take your medicine?Are you resting enough?How are you feeling today?
There’s a tenderness in his consistency, a quiet concern in every word. Even three days ago, during my follow-up hospital visit, he showed up without me asking. He sat beside me in the waiting area, talking about the weather, his work, random things, anything to make me feel normal for a while.
It should be comforting. And it is. But something inside me still feels... unsettled. Maybe because I haven’t told him the full truth about that day. Maybe because I know once I do, something might change.
But I will. Soon. I owe him that much. With that thought tucked somewhere at the back of my mind, I returned to my routine. I towel-dried my hair and reached for the blow dryer. The familiar hum filled the silence, white noise to match my scattered thoughts.
Then, ping.
The sound of my phone cut through the room. My heart skipped. I didn’t need to check to know it was him. It always is.
I dropped the dryer and grabbed the phone, unlocking it in a rush. It was his name on the screen. And just like that, everything else faded.
“You know that Shivay calls me Sunflower,” his text read. “Have you ever wondered what name could’ve been given to you?”
Seriously? He’s asking this now? Before I could even come up with a reply, another ping stole my attention.
“Move to your balcony.” I frowned. What is he up to? Before I could type back, another message arrived.
“Don’t get confused. Just do as I say, please.” The word please did something. It always did.
Still slightly puzzled, I walked to the balcony. The February sunlight wrapped around me like a quiet hug, warm, soft, familiar. I leaned over the railing, instinctively glancing down at the garden.
“Don’t look. I’m not there," A surprised laugh escaped my lips. I looked to my side, half-expecting him to be watching somehow. How does he always know?
