Transcendent Love (Sequel: A Namesake Couple)

The Test

The city lights of London glittered beyond the studio windows, casting long shadows across the polished floors. Cameras clicked, flashes popped — the usual chaos of a high-profile shoot. But my mind was miles away.

Imtiaz was watching me again.

Not like a man admiring a model.

No, this was different.

His eyes weren't just taking me in; they were searching.

He knew.

He knew I was Adhya.

But what he didn't know was whether I remembered.

I adjusted my pose as the photographer called for another shot.

"Perfect," the voice said.

But I barely heard it.

Because Imtiaz's gaze held mine, sharp and cold, like he was peeling back every layer I wore.

Later, when the crew was busy packing up, he approached me.

"Shakti," he said quietly, the name like a challenge on his tongue. "You've come a long way."

I smiled softly, playing the part. "It's been a journey."

He studied me carefully, then asked, "Do you ever wonder who you were before all this?"

The question hung between us.

I looked away for a moment, letting the silence answer for me.

"Sometimes," I said finally, "but only when it serves me."

He nodded slowly. "And if I told you the past isn't so easy to forget?"

I met his eyes again, steady and unreadable.

"Then I would say you are mistaken."

Later that night — Private Flat, London

The moment the door clicked shut behind us, a sudden stillness filled the room. The cold London air was left outside, replaced by the warmth radiating from Advitya's steady presence. I barely had the strength to stand on my own after the long, grueling day—the shoot, Imtiaz's piercing gaze, the suffocating tension of pretending—but here, in this quiet space, I felt the walls I'd built begin to crumble.

Advitya's eyes held mine, dark and unwavering, as if he was silently asking if I was okay. I nodded, but the truth was buried deeper than any words could reach.

Without hesitation, he closed the distance, his hands cupping my face with a tenderness that belied the storm raging inside me. His thumbs traced slow, soothing circles over my cheeks, grounding me. I leaned into his touch, my eyes fluttering shut as a tremor of relief passed through me.

"You don't have to carry this alone," he whispered, voice low and rough with emotion. "Not ever."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and let my hands find their way to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my fingertips. It was a rhythm I'd come to depend on, a lifeline in the chaos.

He pulled me closer, his arms wrapping securely around my waist. The warmth of his body against mine was an anchor, pulling me back from the edge of my own fears. I breathed him in—the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with something uniquely Advitya, like home.

Our lips met in a kiss that started soft, almost hesitant, as if we were both testing the waters after so much pain and uncertainty. But the kiss quickly deepened, slow and deliberate, each movement an unspoken promise.

His hands slipped under the hem of my shirt, fingers trailing along my skin with a featherlight touch that sent shivers down my spine. I arched into him instinctively, craving more of the comfort and reassurance he offered without words.