Nandini Verma was 18 when she penned her first story, a tale of passion, betrayal, and revenge. It was a masterpiece, poised for publication. But on the night she was to share her brilliance with the world, tragedy struck. Her abusive father, a figu...
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The soft hum of the air conditioner was the only sound in the room as I carefully folded Yash's clothes, placing them one by one into his suitcase. He was sitting on the bed, arms crossed over his chest, watching me with a sour expression that was somewhere between a pout and a scowl. It was a rare sight-my usually composed and powerful Yashwardhan reduced to this grumpy mood, all because of a business trip to Italy.
"Are you sure you have to go?" I asked, trying to keep the amusement out of my voice as I glanced over at him. His eyes narrowed slightly, the scowl deepening.
"You know I do," he grumbled, his tone making it clear he wasn't happy about it. "But I don't see why you can't come with me."
I chuckled softly, shaking my head as I continued packing. "Yash, we've been over this. I have to finish my book, and I can't miss the signing event. My readers are counting on me."
"I'm counting on you too," he muttered under his breath, but I heard it anyway. I looked up to see him glaring at the suitcase like it was the source of all his problems.
I couldn't help but laugh at the sight. "You're acting like a grumpy child who didn't get his favorite toy," I teased, giving him a playful smile as I moved closer to the bed. "Come on, Yash. It's only fifteen days. You'll survive."
He didn't respond immediately, just continued to sulk as he watched me with those intense eyes of his. I knew he wasn't really angry, just upset that I wouldn't be with him. His possessiveness had always been one of his defining traits, and though it could be overwhelming at times, I had grown to love that part of him. It was his way of showing how much he cared, how much he needed me by his side.
Sighing, I sat down next to him on the bed, placing a hand on his arm. "Yash," I said softly, trying to catch his gaze. "You know I'd go with you if I could. But this book is important to me. And so is the event. It's my chance to meet my readers, to thank them for all their support."
He finally looked at me, his expression softening just a little. "I know," he admitted, though there was still a hint of grumpiness in his voice. "But I don't like being away from you for so long."
I smiled, leaning in to rest my head on his shoulder. "I don't like being away from you either. But it's only two weeks. And we can talk every day, video calls, texts-whatever you want."
"It's not the same," he muttered, but he wrapped an arm around me, pulling me closer. "I'm going to miss you."
My heart warmed at his words, and I tilted my head up to press a kiss to his jaw. "I'll miss you too," I whispered, my lips brushing against his skin. "But I'll be right here when you get back. And maybe I'll have a surprise for you."
That seemed to catch his attention, and he finally looked at me fully, his brows furrowing in curiosity. "A surprise?" he repeated, his tone shifting from grumpy to intrigued.
I nodded, giving him a mischievous smile. "But you'll have to wait until you come back to find out what it is."
His eyes narrowed, clearly not liking the idea of waiting, but I knew he was hooked. "You're playing dirty, Nandini," he said, his voice low and full of that familiar possessiveness.
