He likes her sister.
She has a crush on him.
What will happen, when a Rishta meant for her sister is sent to her? How will he react? How will the family react? What's their story?
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I turned on the lights to my apartment, and my head hit a wall of muscle. Two hands slipped around my waist.
"Abhimanyu!" I chided, playfully hitting his arm.
"What? Can't I come see my fiancée?" he asked innocently. Damn. Why does he have to be this cute?
"You can." I placed my bag on the sofa and ran into his arms, giggling.
He picked me up and pressed a kiss to my lips.
"I can't believe we're getting married in a week," I said.
"I can," he replied. "That's why I'm here."
"You came here because you believe we're getting married?" I raised a brow.
He laughed. "Not like that, Aarohi. I came so we could spend some time together. Our families won't let us meet otherwise."
"Oh. I'll take a quick shower, and then we can hang out?"
"How about I join you?" he winked.
I didn't feel like getting intimate, so I shook my head.
"Okay, I'll wait." He dropped onto the sofa and began scrolling through his phone.
. . .
I came out of the bathroom with towel-dried hair and headed straight to the kitchen to make chai.
"Abhimanyu, do you want some?"
"Always."
I set the saucepan on the stove and turned on the gas. Soon, the brown liquid came to a boil, and I poured it into two cups. The aroma of cardamom and tea filled the kitchen, warm and familiar.
I handed him a cup and sat beside him. Our thighs brushed. He slipped an arm around my waist without a word. I leaned into him, resting my head against his chest. The steady lub-dub of his heartbeat felt relaxing.
We sipped in comfortable silence.
"How was therapy? Do you still feel guilty?" I asked softly, placing my empty cup on the coffee table.
"It's good, Rooh," he murmured, setting his cup down as well. "But I still feel guilty. I could have saved the kid. The surgery wasn't complicated, but the innocent child still died. All because of me."
I turned to face him fully. His eyes looked tired, heavier than usual.
"His heart didn't respond to the surgery. That wasn't your fault," I said gently. "You did your best. If it had been someone else, the same thing would've happened."
"But—"
I leaned forward and pressed my lips softly against his, cutting him off.
When I pulled back, our foreheads touched.
"No 'buts,'" I whispered. "You need to accept that and work on the exercises your therapist gave you, okay?"
He exhaled slowly, his breath warm against my face. "Hmm."
His hand moved to my cheek, thumb brushing lightly over my skin. "What would I do without you?"
"Be miserable," I teased faintly.
He chuckled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Then he pulled me into his lap. I wrapped my arms around his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, inhaling slowly.
I pressed soft kisses to his hair.
After a moment, he lifted his head and kissed my cheek... then the other... then my lips. It was slow and deep arousing the desire that was calm like the still ocean.
My fingers slid into his hair as I kissed him back.
We pulled apart, breathing hard but smiling softly.
"I love you," he said against my lips.
"I love you more."
The End.
A/N:
I couldn't think of a plot twist. So I wrote this.
The Epilogue would be a scene with their kids and all.
