#2 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬
To all the people who thought no one could read their masked emotions.
.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚｡⋆. .⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚｡⋆.
"GET. THE. FUCK. OUT. OF. MY. HOUSE." The heavy voice of Abhishek Malhotra echoed in...
Happy Reading💋🌻 -------------------------------------- Lambiya judaiyan, Hisse sadde aaiyaan Rabba ve mohabbatan, Kyun tu banaiyan. --------------------------------------
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"It was a pleasure working with you, Mrs. Malhotra. Your guidance has significantly impacted our organization," said the Managing Director of the hospital in Mumbai as we shook hands.
"I am thrilled to have been able to assist. Please remember, I'm just a call away. Thank you for the amazing experience," I replied with a smile.
As I bid the hospital goodbye, I reflected on my time in Mumbai. Today marks the end of my two-month stint here, and I am now ready to return to Delhi.
Riding towards my penthouse, I couldn't help but acknowledge the profound impact this experience has had on me. Mumbai has revealed my true potential and the influence of my words.
I was missing my Bronnie, Ruhana and everyone. It's been long since I have cuddled with Bronnie squeezing him in my arms and squeeshing Ruhana's cheek.
It is morning, and my flight is at noon. I walked inside the building and reached the penthouse. The house which gave me comfort and peace for two months.
I punched the code and the door flew open. I stepped inside, and a lavender fragrance entered my nostrils, making me smile.
I miss one more person. I missed him. My husband. The Abhishek Bastard Malhotra. The change in him has been drastic and beautiful. He visited several times in these past months stating that he has some meetings in Mumbai too.
But besides his every reason, I was happy that he came. I miss his touch on me. I miss his face, which gives me butterflies, not the whole fucking zoo in my stomach.
His last visit was made two weeks ago, and since then, I missed his presence around me. We did not talk after that, although I wanted to but I didn't have any courage to do so.
