The morning sunlight filtered gently through the sheer curtains, casting soft golden patterns on the marble floor. Aarohi padded quietly into the kitchen, her hair a messy bun and her thoughts still half-asleep. She wasn't expecting anyone to be up yet—it was one of those rare, quiet mornings that felt untouched by the world.
As she reached for the coffee jar, her eyes caught something unusual. The servant, Ragini, stood by the trash bin, carefully emptying a small box filled with cigarettes—some half-used, most unopened.
She blinked in surprise and tilted her head. "Wait—are those... Vidyut's?"
Ragini straightened, a little startled. "Yes, madam. Sir told me to throw them away last night. All of them."
Aarohi's hand paused mid-air above the sugar tin. "He told you to throw them out?"
"Yes," the lady said with a small nod. "He said he doesn't want to see them anymore."
Her fingers curled slightly around the edge of the counter. She stood still for a long second, staring at the wastebin. Something about it didn't make sense. Vidyut, the man who lit cigarettes like they were part of his signature look—giving it up?
Maybe he had listened. Maybe, despite all his bravado, something she said had stayed with him. She made her coffee quietly, her mind unusually still.
Later that evening
The warm golden light of the bedside lamp cast a halo across the room. Aarohi sat curled up on the couch, a novel lying forgotten on her lap. Across the room, Vidyut leaned against the doorframe, a towel slung around his neck, fresh from a shower. His shirt clung to him, slightly damp, hair tousled.
"You're staring," he said with a teasing smile.
"You threw them away," she said, ignoring the flirtation.
He raised a brow. "What?"
"The cigarettes. Ragini Didi told me. why did you threw them away. Tumhe cigarettes bohat pasand the na "
he replied "Kyuki tumhe pasand nahi."
Her eyes narrowed slightly, confused.
"Aur mujhe... tumhari pasand pasand hai."
The words hit her like a soft gust of wind—unexpected but warm. She blinked.
There was no teasing grin, no sarcasm. Just him. Honest.
Aarohi swallowed, her heart tripping unexpectedly in her chest. She looked away, suddenly flustered.
He stood after a while, checking his watch. "I have to go. There's an issue at the party office."
Aarohi nodded, her chest heavy with feelings she didn't know how to name. "Be careful."
Vidyut leaned down, brushing a soft kiss to her forehead. "Always."
She watched him go. The warmth of the room lingered—but only for a moment.
Her phone buzzed.
Rohen Calling
She stared at it. The name alone felt like a stone thrown through glass. Reluctantly, she answered.
"Hello?"
"Aarohi, it's Rohen. You're going to regret breaking up with me."
She sat up straighter, startled. "Rohen? What—what are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about the way you walked away like I was nothing. And married that politician like it meant nothing."
"Rohen—" she tried, but he cut her off.
"You'll see. You'll realize what you lost."
Her grip on the phone tightened.
"You're going to regret marrying Vidyut."
The line went dead.
She stared at the screen, her breath caught. The shadows she thought she'd left behind had found her again—and they were darker this time.
YOU ARE READING
Hateship
Romance"where are you going ?" he asked "not your concern " she answered he grabs her wrist "you are not going anywhere until you answer my questions......what were you doing here? and why?" he said "if you already know what I was doing why are you aski...
