Fated To Love You

Chapter 103

When Sumedh's students left, he tiredly checked the time again. His eyes, red and heavy, blinked at the clock on the wall. He sighed deeply, a mix of exhaustion and regret swelling in his chest.

"Ab toh baat karne ka bhi time nahi bacha..." he muttered under his breath, rubbing his temples.

The weight of the night sat heavily on his shoulders as he slowly sank into the sofa, laptop in hand. The dark circles under his eyes had deepened, and though his fingers moved across the keyboard, his mind kept flickering back to the closed bedroom door.

Instead of heading to bed, he resigned himself to his pending college work. "Kam se kam kuch toh productive ho..." he murmured tiredly, attempting to focus.

By 6:30 AM, Sumedh had unknowingly fallen asleep on the sofa, slouched to one side, laptop slightly tilted on his lap. His expression was peaceful, yet lined with the traces of the emotional storm from the night before—eyebrows slightly furrowed, mouth faintly parted, as if his mind hadn't completely shut off.

At 7:00 AM, the soft sounds of footsteps stirred in the hallway. Himani stepped into the living room, rubbing her eyes sleepily, her long kurti brushing against the floor. Behind her came his mother, already tying her dupatta tightly as she headed toward the kitchen.

They both paused near the kitchen door when they saw Sumedh asleep on the sofa.

Himani's eyes lingered on him longer than she meant to—taking in the dark patches under his eyes, the way his fingers were still resting near the laptop touchpad. Her jaw clenched ever so slightly, her anger still intact—but her eyes flickered, betraying a pinch of worry. 

His mother, too, glanced at him silently, lips pressed into a thin line. Her eyes didn't soften, but there was a trace of disappointment behind them.

Neither of them said a word.

No one woke him up.

Because sometimes, silence speaks louder than scolding.

And both women were still upset—with him, with the night, with how everything had unfolded. So they moved around him quietly, going about their morning routine, letting the man who'd spent the night as a teacher.

At around 8:30 in the morning, Sumedh stirred on the sofa. His eyes blinked open halfway, crusted from the long, uneasy night. A dull ache throbbed in his neck from sleeping at an awkward angle. He lifted his head sluggishly, then turned to glance at the wall clock.

His eyes widened in alarm.

"Oh shit!" he gasped, jolting up so fast the laptop nearly slid off his lap. "Main so kaise gaya!"

He scrambled to pack his things—his laptop, charger, notes—haphazardly stuffing them into his bag while muttering under his breath. The panic was evident in his quick, jerky movements. His hair stuck out in all directions.

Rushing toward his room, he called out, almost in disbelief,
"Aai! Uthaya kyun nahi mujhe?"
There was no immediate response—just the distant clinking of kitchen vessels.

Inside the room, Himani stood near the mirror, quietly fixing her earrings. She wore a calm expression, but it was the kind that concealed a storm. Her face was stoic, jaw tight, her lips pressed into a thin, unreadable line. Her silence was louder than words.

Sumedh, now frantic, threw open the cupboard doors and began searching.

"Himani... mere kapde kahan hain?" he asked, voice rising in panic as he shuffled through the clothes. "Na formals mil rahe hai, na inner vest—sab kahan gaya?"