The Things We Love and Lose

"We shouldn't be doing this," I whispered, protesting at the back of my throat.

He curled his finger around the strand of my hair. "But we're doing this." His lips inched closer to mine. "We're always doing this."

Squeezing my eyes, I pushed him back through the shoulders and stood up from the couch. "Arnav, I--"

"You're engaged," He exasperated, curling his palm into a fist before standing up from the floor. The same wall built his face, the same hidden annoyance reached into his bones. "Ms. Sehgal, would you mind leaving? I have a meeting in five minutes."

"Arnav, listen--"

"Mr. Oberoi," He rectified, breaking all the ties hanging between us with one word. "Leave." He grabbed his files from the table. "When I come back, I don't want to see you here."

And he walked out of my with the snap of his fingers, his face hard, his eyes angered and everything cut out.

Bit by bit.

And I let it shatter for both of us.