This is a yarn of two best friends who met via social media and were inseparable and then how they met two other best friends and fell in love .
AASHIKA SINGH is sweet and generous with a sunshine vibe
whereas
MAYRA KAPOOR is rogue and savage wit...
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There's a kind of pain that doesn't scream. It just sits quietly inside your chest, sinking deeper with every breath, like a paper cut in the soul — invisible, but sharp enough to keep you from sleeping.
That's what I felt.
Mayra's arms were around me, her silence louder than my thoughts. She didn't ask questions. She never did when I wasn't ready. She just sat there, letting me crumble in peace.
I hated that I'd let a single photo shake everything Aadvik and I had built. But I also hated that he gave me a reason to.
Because love, no matter how deep, is still breakable. And I had felt mine crack tonight.
The picture was burned into my brain — his hand around someone else's waist, her laughing face, the warmth that wasn't meant for me.
And then the message. From that same anonymous number.
"Guess your Mr. Perfect isn't so perfect after all."
It wasn't just jealousy. It wasn't just hurt. It was fear. I didn't just feel heartbroken. I felt targeted.
I pulled away from Mayra and reached for my phone, scrolling past the texts and missed calls from Aadvik. My chest was tight, but my mind was clear. I needed answers.
I decided to finally text him,so i sent him the picture along with a text,
"Can we talk?"
His reply came within seconds. "Please, It's not what you think"
I texted him the address and rushed towards the old community park near mayra's house. The one with the broken bench we once carved our initials into. I sat on it now, fingers tracing the faint A + A like it was a question I didn't know how to answer anymore.
He arrived quietly. No grand gestures. No excuses on his lips.
Just eyes — tired and searching — like he'd been carrying his own weight of guilt.
"Aashika—" he started.
"Don't," I interrupted. "Not yet."
He nodded, waiting.
I stood, arms crossed. "Who is she?"
"My cousin," he said instantly. "Tanvi. From Toronto. She's visiting with her mom."
I blinked. "Your cousin?"
He nodded again, stepping closer. "I would've told you before I went Punjab but she surprised me at my meeting there. I didn't think... I just didn't expect any of this. We were just catching up."
"The photo looked like more," I whispered.
"I know it did." His voice was quiet, careful. "But it wasn't. I held her from the back because she was doing her insane one foot dance again, in which she always falls. It's her habit to do it anytime we meet"
