Sayesha got Rohan

3. Apology?

✨ POV :~ ROHAN ✨

I wake up early, as per my usual routine, and go for a run around the sprawling wedding venue. I have to say, this wedding can empty half of the bank balance of a middle class man.

I don't understand why do people have to spend such an amount of money on wedding when they can't invest even half of their life on their own relationship with their spouse.

90 out of 100 people aren't loyal in their relationship with their spouse, even after their wedding, and let's not talk about before wedding. They probably sleep with the first girl they meet on street.

But it's the wedding of my bestfriend. I wish only good for him and his fiancee at the end of the day.

As I round a corner, I spot her sitting alone by the pool, a book placed in her lap.

Her. Sayesha.

I slow down, drinking in the sight of her in a tank top and shorts. 

To be honest, I'm not a good man. Not at all. And thus, I approach her, running shoes squeaking on the damp floor.

"Morning," I greet, toweling off my sweat-soaked face. "You're up early." I pause "Or maybe you didn't sleep at all?"

I add teasingly, nodding at the book.
Long Live the King by Khai Hara.
Interesting. The girl delves into dark romance.

She rolls her eyes and that shit reaction reaches directly to my length, "Keep dreaming."

I know she doesn't want me to, but I laugh and take a seat beside her on the poolside, "Guilty," I eye towards her book, "So, what are you reading? Something steamy?"

She finally looks up from the book and gazes into my eyes, "Why are you always after these steamy topics? You want a quick fuck? Go find someone else."

Guts.

I lean back on my elbows, unapologetic. "First, I'm not 'after' anything. I am just making a conversation."

My eyes flicks towards her chest and then I move it instantly towards her eyes, "Second, I'm not interested in someone else."

She pauses for a second or two, clearly, thinking something in her mind, or looking up for yet another savage reply for me. An there it comes, "I think you should start apologzising first, rather than TRYING to make a conversation, donkey-head."

I chuckle, "Apology? May I ask, why?"

She places her hand beside her thighs on the damp floor, leans back, and looks with a smirk, "For intruding last night, our party, remember, Mr. Gigolo."

I smile, at her naiveness, and look at her hand, which has a ring on her ring finger, and it makes me think whether she is engaged or something, 

"Keep calling me that and one day I'll turn your teachings into a bittersweet truth, but in a very respectful way."

My eyes flicks back to her face and I can see the tint of redness on her cheeks, but she does her best to hide it, "You dream a lot."