𝐆𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐬

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 22

My eyes barely fluttered open, and the first thing that greeted me was the pounding in my head. Great. Another hangover. Just what I needed to start the day.

But then, something miraculous—a pair of hands massaging my forehead. I could almost forgive the headache for giving me an excuse to be pampered.

I cracked an eye open. Yep, I was back in my room at Saadu Bhai's mansion. How many times had I crash-landed here like this? I'd lost count.

Slowly, my gaze drifted to the culprit of the forehead massage. Saadu Bhai, of course, glued to his laptop like the workaholic he is.

He didn't even look up as he caught me staring. "Good morning, Aisha," he said smoothly, leaning over to kiss my forehead.

I sighed, leaning into him, not quite ready to acknowledge the mess I probably made. "Morning," I muttered, sounding just as lazy as I felt.

My body screamed at me to stay in bed and avoid life for a few more hours—preferably days—but reality had other plans.

And then, the humiliation hit. I remembered. Oh, God. I had come in all drunk and, for the millionth time, asked him the same damn question.

Why? Why do I always put myself through this? Why does he put up with it? Masochism, probably.

"You're so rude, you know that?" Saad's voice broke my pity party. "Getting drunk without me? It hurts, babe. Deeply." He didn't even bother looking away from his laptop as he threw the sarcasm my way.

I rolled my eyes and, in true Aisha fashion, flipped him the middle finger as I dragged myself out of bed. His quiet laugh followed me as I stumbled toward the bathroom.

My hair was already braided, neat and tidy like I hadn't just spent the night being a train wreck. Saadu Bhai, of course.

Stripping off my clothes, I stepped into the shower, the water hitting my skin with a sharpness that was more wake-up-call than relief.

As I stood there, letting the water pour over me, I did the thing I hated the most: I thought about my life.

This week had been, for lack of a better word, a dumpster fire. Everything that could go wrong, did. Because of course it did. That's how my life worked, right?.

I scrubbed my face, trying to wash away the frustration, but it wasn't that easy. Nope. It clung to me like a bad hangover, the kind that won't quit no matter how much water you chug.

I got out of the shower, dressed in my usual armor—an all-black outfit. Because why not? If I had to face the day, I might as well look like I'm ready for battle.

I headed downstairs, the smell of something familiar guiding me to the kitchen.

There he was. Saadu Bhai, apron and all, playing chef. Without looking up from whatever masterpiece he was creating.