It was going all good.
But the definition of good was never the same for everyone.
For Shana, acting as if nothing had happened was good. Waking up at eleven in the morning, eating chocolates and drinking cold coffee through the day, burying herself in office work while curled on her bed, and watching Netflix until three or four in the morning… that was good.
For Saransh, watching her do all this was torturous—sometimes even frustrating. But if she looked happy, that was good.
For Vansh, hearing her silent cries and unspoken words on late-night calls was good. At least she wasn’t shutting him out.
But for Vihaan, nothing was good. The office had become his home, and he was rarely seen at the Rathore mansion anymore.
Every night he lay awake, replaying the day Shana had left him. Every moment, every word, every glance—every shard of hatred still lodged inside him. Yet what haunted him most was the flicker of betrayal in her eyes at the very end.
He couldn’t forget it.
