The first time Zara Ahmed saw him, she was on the ice and he was standing over her. He didn't offer a hand. He offered advice weight distribution, blade angle, technique - like she was a problem to be corrected, not a person who had just fallen. Then he walked away. She got up herself. She always does. Six months later, that same man is sitting at her dining table, sent by her mother, here to tutor her for the entire semester. Rohan Mehra. Calm, composed, annoyingly brilliant. And acting like he has never seen her before in his life. The thing is Zara isn't sure he's telling the truth. And the other thing is somewhere between the sessions she's deliberately ruining and the arguments she's starting on purpose, she's starting to wonder if hating him is actually as simple as she thought. It isn't. Obviously it isn't. Yeh stories kabhi simple nahi hoti.