Vaidehi - His Second chance [On Hold]

46. Connection of souls

Tumse Milke Dil Ka Hain Jo,Haal Kya Kahein

Ho Gaya Hain Kaisa Ye, Kamaal Kya Kahein

Tumse Milke Dil Ka Hain Jo,Haal Kya Kahein

Ho Gaya Hain Kaisa Ye, Kamaal Kya Kahein

Peace is not something to be found; it is something to be felt. Felt not in things—how can you feel peace in something that cannot feel? It is experienced in the presence of those who bear it, who carry it within them, and who offer it to your restless heart.

This is peace.

She is peace.

This late-night car ride, as I steal occasional glances at her, admiring her face bathed in the soft glow of fading night and the pale light of the moon, fills me with serenity. The way her brown eyes brighten, revealing a pathway deep within them—yet, just as I try to follow, the light dims, leaving the path ahead shrouded in mystery.

It is exciting, thrilling.

To search in her eyes. To search for myself, my path.

And just like that, my peace is disrupted. The buzz of my phone pulls me out of the moment, and I sigh, glancing at the screen. For the fourth time, it's a call from her girl gang. Even though I've already messaged her sister, telling her we're on our way back and that she's safe, they remain restless.

Restless people, eating away at my peace too.

With a flick of my finger, I switch off the phone and shove it back into my pocket, determined to reclaim the calm I had just a moment ago.

"It must be important. Why don't you pick it up?" Her soft voice broke the silence, making me feel caught. I quickly wiped my hands against my jeans, like a thief hiding evidence, hoping she hadn't seen the caller's name.

"Important?" I leaned my head back, let out a half-hearted laugh, and scoffed. "Nah, just some wrong number. Probably a company trying to sell their products."

She gave me a skeptical look, raising a brow, her lips forming an 'O' as if considering my answer. But then she nodded, accepting it, before turning her attention back to her phone.

Crisis averted, at least for now.

She typed furiously on her phone, and I knew then that I was doomed. Better to accept my lie now than let it unravel later. Honesty is the best policy, right?

"It was your sister," I admitted, pulling out my phone and switching it back on. I glanced over, hoping for some reaction, but she didn't even bother looking at me. For a moment, I thought I had made a mistake by telling her the truth, but then it hit me—I had made a mistake by lying in the first place.

The realization stung, even more so when she turned her face fully towards the window, refusing to meet my eyes. I wished I could be anywhere but here, on the other side of that window, where her silence wasn't louder than words.

The space between us felt like miles.

I leaned forward slightly, gripping the back of the driver's seat, trying to get a glimpse of her expression. Her voice had been calm, but her posture—the way she faced the window so deliberately—told a different story.

"Are you angry?" I asked, my voice awkward as I tried to sound casual.

"No," she replied, her tone flat. Just two letters, and for a brief moment, I felt a wave of relief. But wait—when a woman says she's not angry, she definitely is. I knew better. Look into her eyes, Sanskaar.