UNWILLINGLY HIS

Laughter

As Anuja drove Samaira to the hotel, the quiet of the night wrapped around them like a thick blanket. The streets passed by in a blur, the occasional streetlight casting shadows across the car’s windows. Samaira, still holding the weight of what had happened earlier that night, leaned her head against the seat. Her heart was heavy, but there was a strange comfort in knowing that someone understood.

Once they arrived at the hotel, Anuja pulled into the parking lot, her eyes filled with worry as she turned off the engine. “Samaira, are you sure about this?” she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Samaira nodded, her lips pressing into a tight smile, though her eyes were full of sorrow. “I need to be alone. I can't keep running back to the same people who keep hurting me. I need a moment to breathe.”

Anuja hesitated but ultimately respected Samaira’s decision. She knew that her brother’s actions had pushed Samaira to her breaking point, but she also understood that Samaira needed space to heal. “Please, just remember that I’m here if you need anything,” Anuja said, her voice filled with sincerity. “Call me anytime.”

Samaira managed a small smile. “I will. Thank you for everything.”

Anuja nodded, and with one final glance, she drove away, leaving Samaira standing alone outside the hotel. Samaira took a deep breath, her chest tight, and walked into the lobby to check in. A few minutes later, she had a room reserved for a few days. It wasn’t much, but it was hers, and for now, that was enough.

As she stepped into the hotel suite, she let her suitcase fall onto the bed. The weight of the night’s events had drained her, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she didn’t have to keep up the façade. She sat on the bed, her mind racing with the sting of Advait’s words, his betrayal still fresh in her heart. But as the exhaustion took over, she let herself collapse onto the bed, her body aching, and soon, she was asleep.

The next morning, Samaira woke up to the soft light filtering through the curtains of her hotel room. For a moment, she felt a semblance of peace. It was a quiet, neutral space—no memories of Advait, no cold eyes piercing through her. Just calm.

She pushed herself out of bed, stretching her arms as she began to prepare for the day ahead. The weight of the night before was still there, but she had learned to compartmentalize her pain. Today, she’d focus on herself, just for a little while.

As she was brushing her hair, she heard a knock at the door.

“Room service,” she thought, assuming it was just a delivery. She adjusted her robe and walked over to the door, ready to get on with the day. She wasn’t expecting anyone else.

But when she opened the door, the person standing before her made her freeze in her tracks.

There he was. As imposing as ever. Advait.

The world seemed to stop around her for a moment as Samaira blinked, certain she was imagining it. But there he stood, tall and cold, his eyes sharp as ever, the same stoic expression plastered across his face.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice a mix of disbelief and anger. “How could you be here after everything you did?”

Before Samaira could say anything further, Advait stepped past her, entering the room without waiting for an invitation. The door clicked shut behind him, and Samaira’s heart skipped a beat.

She stood there, dumbfounded, watching him as he moved further into the room, his gaze never once flickering toward her. She could feel the tension between them, thick as ever, but there was also something else—a strange undercurrent of emotion that Samaira couldn’t quite place.

They exchanged a look. It was sharp. It was bitter. It was filled with so many unsaid things. And then, before Samaira could stop herself, something unexpected happened.

She burst into laughter.

Her laugh rang out in the room, loud and sudden, almost as if she couldn’t control it. Advait, too, seemed taken aback for a split second, and then, to her complete surprise, the corners of his lips twitched ever so slightly. A hint of a smile appeared on his face, his eyes narrowing slightly, almost in disbelief at the audacity of the situation.

Samaira, still chuckling, wiped her eyes, struggling to contain her laughter. She shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t hold it in anymore,” she said between laughs, though the words felt heavy with something more.

Advait’s expression remained unreadable, but there was a flicker in his eyes. What was going on here? Why was she laughing when everything had just crumbled around her? He took a step closer, his presence still powerful, but this time, there was an odd sense of unease in the way he looked at her.

Samaira took a deep breath, finally letting her laughter fade, but her smile didn’t disappear. There was a strange kind of defiance in her now, a fire that hadn’t been there before. She stared at Advait, her gaze piercing through him.

“You…” she began, her voice quiet, but the determination behind it was palpable. “You don’t know what you’ve just done, do you? You think you’ve won, Advait? That you can destroy me like this? You think this is the end?”

For a brief moment, Advait stood there, unable to find the words. His gaze shifted between her and the ground, as if he were trying to make sense of what was happening. There was something in Samaira’s eyes that unsettled him. Something different. Something he hadn’t seen before.

“I don’t know what game you’re playing, Samaira,” he muttered, his voice cold again. “But this will end on my terms.”

Samaira’s laughter had stopped, but the fire in her eyes burned even brighter. “You’ll regret it,” she whispered. “You’ll regret every single moment of this. Just wait.”