Eternal secret crush

His Presence

V I D H I

I wake up around 2 a.m., my stomach in severe pain. I can’t help the tears welling up; the discomfort is unbearable, making it impossible to sleep.

Desperate, I grab my phone and dial Vishal brother. He’s at the hospital for his night rounds, but he doesn’t pick up. He must be busy. I sigh, feeling more alone.

My parents are away on a business trip. I think about waking Leela aunty, but she’s been working since morning. I can’t disturb her. 

Ugh, am I going to die alone here?

I decide to check WhatsApp to see if any of my girls are awake. That’s when my phone rings. Arnav’s name flashes on the screen, and my heart skips a beat. Why is he calling me at this hour?

I pick up just as the call is about to end. 

“Hello?” His voice is husky, laced with concern.

“Hello, Arnav. Why do you always call me at midnight?” I ask, trying to sound normal, but my voice cracks, fragile from the pain.

“Cupcake, are you alright?” he asks, ignoring my question entirely.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I lie, struggling to speak through the discomfort.

“I… I want to sleep now. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Bye.” I quickly end the call before he can say anything more.

Fifteen minutes later, my phone buzzes with a text. I open it to see a message from him: 
“Vidhi, can you please come down and open your house’s main door?”

What the... Is he really here at midnight? Why?
Does he miss me? A blush creeps up my cheeks, but the pain quickly pulls me out of my delusional thoughts.

Groaning in discomfort, I force myself out of bed. Struggling to stand, I manage to adjust my messy hair on the way to the door.
When I finally open it, Arnav is standing by the door.

A R N A V

The moment I saw her online on WhatsApp past midnight, I knew something was wrong. Vidhi is usually offline by 11, so without thinking, I called her. She answered at the last ring, sounding weak and sick. She didn’t even finish our conversation before abruptly hanging up.

I couldn’t shake the worry that’s bothering me, so I jumped into my car and drove to her house as fast as I could.

After parking, I texted her, asking her to open the door.

Five minutes later, she appears, and my heart clenches seeing her in pain. Her face is pale, her usually bright eyes are dull, and her body looks frail as she struggles to stand. She’s clutching her stomach, her lips pressed into a thin line. I don’t think twice—without a word, I lift her into my arms, cradling her in a bridal style.

“Ar-nav... le-t me down,” she whispers, barely managing to speak, her voice weak and shaky.

“Shh, little one, don’t talk. You’re not well. Let me help you,” I say, trying to sound calm, though my concern is evident.

She hums softly in response, not resisting. I carry her to her room and gently place her on the bed.

Tears well up in her eyes as she clutches her stomach, and my heart breaks at the sight. I sit beside her, stroking her hair softly.

“What happened, cupcake?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Just a stomach ache,” she mutters.

“Are you... on your period?” I ask gently, trying to figure out what’s causing her so much pain.

She hesitates before answering, “No. Actually, I get sick if I eat heavy food late at night. My body can’t digest it.”