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۶ৎ Inayah's pov ۶ৎ
I woke up feeling like my chest was weighed down with bricks. The ache in my heart simmered into something sharper - anger. Not the explosive kind, but the cold, lingering resentment that gnawed at you quietly.
Arhaan hadn't just missed my exhibition. He'd missed my moment. The one thing I had worked for, poured every scrap of my soul into. And he'd let me stand there, waiting, calling him over and over like a fool.
I slammed the closet door a little too hard as I grabbed my coat. Fine. If he wanted to play the guilty husband card, let him. I had a life to live, and I wasn't about to waste another second sulking.
𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼
The cafe smelled like roasted coffee and vanilla, the usual hum of quiet conversations filling the space. I ordered my usual, and the barista - a sweet girl named Siya - handed me my drink with an awkward smile.
Except this time, there was a small, cream-colored card attached to the cup with a tiny, heart-shaped clip.
I raised a brow. "What's this?"
Siya's smile wobbled. "Um... he gave it to me. Said you'd know who."
I didn't even need to look at the card to know. But I did anyway.
I'm sorry trésor, please forgive me love. Just give me one chance to talk.
I let out a sharp breath, ripped the card in half, and stuffed it in the dustbin. Siya flinched, but I just gave her a tight smile and left, my shoes stomping against the pavement harder than necessary.
𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼
Halfway to the studio, I was mentally rearranging my work schedule when a tiny voice called out.
"Didi, Didi"
I stiffened hearing it.
I turned to see a little boy, probably no older than five, running toward me with a beaming smile. He had messy curls and a toothy grin, the kind of innocent sweetness that made my heart soften despite myself.
He tugged at my coat, eyes sparkling. "Can you bend down?"
I crouched, blinking in confusion as he cupped my face with his chubby hands and planted a kiss on my cheek. Then he shoved a folded note into my hand like he'd just completed a secret mission.
"Please forgive him."
The handwriting was unmistakable. Arhaan's.
I crumpled the note into a ball and tossed it into the nearest trash can again without missing a beat. When I straightened, I caught sight of him - leaning against a lamppost across the street.
