A Web of Love and Deceit

Confession

Why is he calling me in such a hurry? Shivada wondered, her heart pounding. She hesitated. Aadhi's house wasn't a place she felt comfortable visiting, not after what happened. That memory still clung to her like a shadow. But Aadhi had been there for her that day, standing by her side when no one else could. He had wiped her tears and stayed with her through the darkness. How could she refuse him now?

"I should go," she whispered to herself. "I'm leaving tomorrow, and who knows when I'll see him again? Maybe he just wants to say goodbye."

But it wasn't just about saying goodbye, was it? After that unfortunate day, she couldn't stop thinking about Aadhi—the way he looked at her, the way he held her. His eyes... those intense, smoldering eyes that always seemed to pierce through her. Whenever he looked at her like that, her heart would race, and she felt shy, even restless.

Aadhi was a puzzle she couldn't solve. He was kind, caring, and sometimes, he'd smile at her in a way that made her feel warm. But then, in a blink, his mood would shift. He'd retreat into himself, becoming silent, moody, like a storm brewing beneath the surface. One moment, he'd be teasing her with Ram, making her laugh. The next, he'd pull away, sullen and reclusive, as if he was battling demons she couldn't see.

"What's with him?" Shivada thought, frustration bubbling up. "Does he have some kind of personality disorder? Or maybe it's hormonal? No, he's 21—puberty's long gone. Could it be trauma? He must've been through something."

She shook her head, determination setting in. "Today, I'm going to ask him to see a psychologist. This has to stop."

When Shivada rang the doorbell, Aadhi appeared almost instantly, opening the door as if he had been waiting for her. She stepped inside, and he quietly shut the door behind her. Arms crossed, he stared at her for a moment before she broke the silence.

"Where's Padma Aunty?" she asked.

"She's not here. She went to the factory," Aadhi replied, his voice steady.

"So, you're alone?" Shivada pressed.

Aadhi's lips curled into a sly smile as he took a step closer. "Not anymore," he said softly.

Before she could respond, Aadhi gently grasped her hand and led her toward his bedroom. Shivada's mind raced as they walked down the hallway. She had never been in Aadhi's room before. Shiva's room was familiar—filled with framed photos of family, friends, and memories. But Aadhi's room? It was different. Minimalist. The only picture on the wall was of Aadhi, seated on his bike, helmet in hand, dressed in sleek black rider gear, a confident smile playing on his lips.

He looked... good.

Shivada hadn't realized she was staring until Aadhi leaned in close, his breath warm against her ear as he murmured, "Am I actually that good?"

Startled, she turned around to face him, her heart skipping a beat. "Did you just hear that?" she stammered, cheeks flushing.

Aadhi's grin widened. "I did."

Embarrassment flooded her, and she scrambled to recover. "Well, maybe the camera's quality is good. You know, these days, cameras can make anyone look attractive."

Aadhi hummed in response, his expression unreadable as he stepped even closer. The air between them seemed to thicken, and Shivada could feel the sweat beading on her arms. She instinctively lowered her head, hoping to hide the nervousness swirling inside her. But Aadhi wasn't about to let her retreat. He gently cupped her chin, lifting her face until their eyes met.

"So, you've never thought I'm handsome?" he asked, his gaze lingering on her lips.

Shivada felt her throat go dry, and the room suddenly felt impossibly warm. She took a shaky step back, desperate to break the tension.