Love Rivals: The Day I Saw Your Tears

92. My Girl Isn't Like Other Fragile Girls

As we stepped into the elevator, I casually said, "Let’s go to the counter to settle the bill."

She looked at me with a little grin. "Already done."

I paused, feeling a flicker of irritation. Without saying anything, I reached over and grabbed her shopping bag. "You picked these for a wedding? You seriously have the worst taste. No wonder the students tease you about it."

Her eyes narrowed, clearly annoyed, but she didn’t argue. She just followed as I walked through the store, scanning for something more fitting. After a moment, I found a mauve-purple saree with a subtle shimmer and a beautifully detailed blouse.

I held it up to her. "This is more like it."

She glanced at the price tag, her eyes widening in shock. "It’s way too expensive," she protested, taking a step back.

I shrugged. "Mom would kill me if I let you pay for this. So do yourself a favor—keep quiet and accept it."

"But—" she started, clearly flustered.

I leaned closer, dropping my voice as I smirked. "Don’t forget who you are, Mrs. Sarah Ryan Gujral."

Her face instantly turned red, completely caught off guard by my words. I couldn’t help but grin as I turned and headed to the counter to pay. She followed, speechless, and I knew I had won that round.

The next day, after returning from the hospital, I found myself getting ready for Krystal’s wedding, but nothing could’ve prepared me for the sight that awaited me. When Sarah stepped out, draped in that mauve saree, I was utterly lost for words. She was breathtaking. It felt like sarees were made for her, wrapping around her with a grace and elegance I hadn’t seen in anyone before. Not even the most beautiful girls I knew in university could hold a candle to how radiant she looked at that moment.

The way the saree clung to her flawless skin, accentuating her soft, poised demeanor, left me in awe. Her lips, softly painted with a light, rosy pink, and her eyes—those sparkling, captivating eyes—seemed to light up the entire room.

I sighed deeply, trying to calm the flutter in my chest. How had I gone eight years without noticing just how beautiful she truly was?

I wanted to treat her the way a gentleman treats a lady, but Sarah was determined to keep me at arm's length. My first attempt came when she stumbled slightly on the hem of her saree. I instinctively reached out to steady her, but she gracefully regained her balance without my help, her pride evident in the way she brushed me off.

Next, as we approached the car, I moved to open the door for her, hoping to be the courteous partner, but she brushed past me and climbed in without a second glance. A mix of frustration and admiration stirred within me. She was fierce, independent, and utterly captivating.

On our way to the wedding, I pulled over at a gift shop to pick up something special for the bride and groom. "Let’s pick a gift together," I suggested, thinking it would be nice for us to choose something as a couple.
With a competitive glint in her eye, she replied, "Let’s see whose gift they prefer the most."
I rolled my eyes and let out a deep sigh, half-amused and half-exasperated.

As we arrived at the wedding, my heart sank a little when I spotted Vicky among the guests. There was an unsettling weight in my chest at the sight of him. Despite my irritation, I forced myself to approach him, engaging in polite small talk while Sarah drifted off to join her friends.

My eyes couldn’t help but follow Sarah as she mingled, laughter spilling from her lips, and I felt Vicky's gaze lingering on her. A protective instinct surged within me, and I cleared my throat, trying to sound firm. "Hey, don’t stare at her like that. She's my wife now."

His expression shifted to a smirk, but there was something serious beneath it. "Yeah, I know. No one can compete with you in any field." His tone softened as he added, "Is she happy?"

I paused, weighing my words. "She isn’t unhappy either," I replied, trying to keep my tone neutral. "But don’t even think about taking pictures of her without her knowing. And don’t you dare get a picture with her either."

He shot back, "She isn’t your thing, Ryan."

I felt a surge of defiance rise within me. "Call it obsession or possession, I really don’t care. All I know is that I want to keep her away from the world." The conviction in my voice surprised even me, but the thought of anyone else claiming a part of her ignited a fierce protectiveness within me.