Her Nightmare | 18+

|| Chapter 100 ||

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PARINIDHI

I sat in the car, quiet and restless, as Devansh and I made our way to the airport. I was going with him to drop him off, and the thought of him leaving gnawed at me, no matter how hard I tried to push it away.

I turned to look out the window, hoping the scenery might distract me, hoping the passing world could ease the heaviness in my chest, but it wasn't working.

I sighed inwardly, trying to comfort myself with the idea that at least I still had these last few moments with him. I might as well make the most of it.

With that thought, I gently placed my hand over his, which was resting in my lap. His reaction was immediate—he shifted his attention from the road to me, giving me a small, comforting smile.

I smiled back, though it felt half-hearted. I was about to turn my gaze back to the window when he asked, "What's wrong, love? Is something bothering you?" His voice was soft, gentle, like he already knew what was weighing me down.

I shook my head, not wanting to add to his worries. He had enough on his mind without me adding my anxieties to the pile. I turned away again, my mind drifting back to thoughts of life without him by my side. How long would he be gone? Would we even be able to talk often? A thousand scenarios ran through my mind, each one making my chest feel tighter.

Just as I was sinking deeper into those thoughts, I felt a firm yet gentle tug on my wrist, followed by the warmth of his hand resting on my waist. In the next moment, I found myself being pulled into his lap, caught off guard by his sudden move.

"What the hell?" I exclaimed, confused. I looked around, trying to figure out how I had ended up on his lap. "How did I get here?" I added, utterly bewildered, my eyes darting to his face for an explanation.

Devansh didn't say anything at first. Instead, he pressed a button, and I noticed the seat slowly reclining back. As the seat moved, he leaned back with it, and with my hands resting on his chest, I couldn't help but follow, ending up closer to him than before.

"What's really bothering you?" he asked again, his voice low as he adjusted my saree, which had gotten a bit rumpled from his sudden move. His arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me even closer, as if he could hold me together while I felt like I was falling apart.

I rested my face against his chest, closing my eyes as I tried to soak in his warmth, to hold onto this feeling of being wrapped up in him, knowing it wouldn't last much longer.

"Love, I asked you something. Don't make me repeat myself," he said softly, brushing a few strands of hair away from my face.

"You're leaving," I mumbled into his chest. "Am I not allowed to feel sad about that?" My frustration seeped into my words as I fumbled for the door handle, desperate to escape the car, but that's when I realized—we were already at the airport.

In the distance, I could see planes lined up on the runway, and there it was, his private jet waiting for him. The sleek jet, with his initials painted boldly on the side, stood proud as ever.

But something caught my eye—his initials. Last time I saw his coat, it had the initials "DA" embroidered on it. But now, on the jet, it read "DPA." My heart skipped a beat as my eyes darted to his coat, and sure enough, there it was: "DPA."

It didn't take a genius to figure out what "DPA" stood for—Devansh Parinidhi Agnihotri.

He had added my name to his, and not just in private—he wore it proudly. He had etched it onto his belongings, carried it with him as if it was always meant to be there.