Days slipped past quietly, and tomorrow was finally Anita's wedding. Excitement buzzed in the mansion, yet my own heart was tangled with something heavier.
I descended the staircase slowly, each step echoing against the grand hall. My mind wandered to the big day tomorrow—how Anita's eyes would sparkle, how the house would be filled with laughter and music. A small chuckle escaped me, but it died almost instantly when Sudesh suddenly bumped his arm against mine.
"Oi," he said casually, but his eyes were too sharp. "I noticed something between you and Vaishank. Are you two secretly dating?"
The words made my stomach twist. "W–what?" My tongue stumbled. "No! No way."
Sudesh gave me a sly smile. "Haan, no secrets between us. But I can see… something is going somewhere."
My eyebrows furrowed, but before I could reply, he patted my head like an annoying older brother. "Nothing, beta. Just take care of yourself."
He walked off, leaving me frozen. Did he know? Did he somehow sense the kiss we shared? My chest tightened at the thought.
When I lifted my gaze again, it landed on Vaishank. He was across the hall, laughing with Nikhil. His white kurta clung lightly to his broad shoulders, his smile stretching across his face. My heart tripped over itself. Why does he have to look so good? I scolded myself, quickly turning away. Focus, Amrita. Focus. I had come for candles, nothing else.
The storeroom was quiet, smelling of dust and old wood. I spotted the box of candles sitting atop a tall cabinet. Stretching, I realized it was beyond my reach. My eyes landed on a stool in the corner—rickety but usable. I dragged it over and climbed, muttering, "Just grab the box and get down."
The stool wobbled beneath me. My hand reached, fingers brushing the box—when the leg snapped.
"Aahh!"
The world tilted. But before I hit the ground, strong arms caught me, steady and secure. My back pressed into the warmth of a chest I knew too well. My heart nearly stopped.
Opening my eyes, I looked straight into his. Vaishank's face hovered inches from mine, his brows furrowed with worry.
"You should be careful," he murmured, his voice low, almost scolding, but soft with concern.
Heat rushed through me as my mind betrayed me, tracing his features—the sharp line of his nose, the curve of his lips, the intensity of his gaze. My breath quickened.
"I… I'm fine," I whispered, scrambling to steady myself.
"Do you need anything else? Let me help you." His hand lingered near mine, as though ready to catch me again if I faltered.
Our eyes met. My throat tightened, but I shook my head quickly. "No, I already got what I need."
Clutching the candle box, I forced my feet to move. My pulse thundered as I stepped away, yet something in me made me glance back once. He was still watching. And when his lips curved into the faintest smile, my stomach twisted painfully.
---
The day passed too slowly, every moment shadowed by thoughts of him. After tomorrow, everyone goes home. What if I never see him again? Why does that thought scare me so much?
That night, restless, I wandered outside. The pathway stretched long between the mansion and the main gate, bathed in pale moonlight. My sandals crunched softly on the gravel as I paced. The silence of the night amplified my thoughts. Should I say yes to him? Should I trust my heart?
"Amrita."
I froze. His voice. Turning, I saw Vaishank emerging from the shadows, his eyes searching mine. He smiled faintly, but there was weight in it.
"Shall we talk?" he asked.
I could only nod.
He guided me to a quiet corner where no one ever came. The cool night air wrapped around us. His chest rose and fell heavily, his throat working as though words were lodged there.
"Tomorrow is the last day," he began, his voice trembling. His eyes glistened under the moonlight. For a moment, I thought I saw tears.
"I don't want to force you," he continued, his voice breaking. "But I'm scared. What if this is the last time I see you? What if I wait for your answer forever?" His lips curved in a broken smile, as though trying to mask his pain.
My chest clenched painfully, the weight of my secret pressing down until I thought I might shatter. I couldn't hold it anymore.
"I–I love you too," I whispered, my voice breaking.
For a moment, the world stilled. His eyes widened, raw emotion flooding them—relief, disbelief, joy, everything all at once. And then he smiled, that breathtaking smile, and before I could take another breath, he pulled me into him.
His lips crashed onto mine, not tentative this time, but hungry, desperate, as though he had been waiting for years. My body jolted at the intensity, yet I clung to him, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. His arms locked around me, firm and possessive, pressing me so close I could feel the frantic thud of his heartbeat against mine.
The kiss seared through me. His lips moved with urgency, rough and unrestrained, and I gave in helplessly. My knees weakened, but his grip on my waist kept me standing, kept me his. When he nibbled my lower lip, a sharp gasp slipped from me, and his low, guttural growl vibrated against my mouth, sending a shiver down my spine.
I melted, drowning in him. His hand slid into my hair, tilting my head back as he deepened the kiss, exploring, savoring, claiming. Each brush of his tongue, each desperate pull left me breathless, trembling, undone.
He kissed me like a storm—wild, consuming, unstoppable. And all I could do was surrender, my heart no longer mine but entirely his.
"Amrita!"
The sharp voice shattered the moment. I broke away, breathless, my lips tingling. My mother stood there, her face twisted with rage.
Before I could speak, she stormed forward, gripping my arm painfully. "Ma—please, I can explain—"
But she dragged me away, straight into my father's room. She shoved me down at his feet.
"She was kissing that boy! Publicly! Is this how you raise a daughter? To ruin our family's name?"
"Pa, I—" Tears blurred my eyes. "It's not like that! I love him, and he loves me too!"
My mother struck my shoulder, but my father caught her hand. His expression was torn between anger and confusion.
A knock sounded. My mother yanked open the door—and there was Vaishank. His eyes immediately found me on the floor, tear-stained and trembling. His jaw tightened.
"I need to speak with both of you," he said firmly, stepping inside.
The air grew heavy. My father gestured for him to sit, while my mother remained stiff, glaring daggers.
"Aunty," he began softly, his tone respectful yet unyielding. "I sincerely love your daughter. Not for passing time, not for dating. I want her as my wife. She is not just your daughter—she is your happiness, your Lakshmi. And I swear, she will be safe, loved, and respected with me."
My father exhaled, eyes narrowing as he studied him. "But she is still studying."
"I know," Vaishank nodded earnestly. "I'll wait. Whatever her dreams, I'll support her. But please don't tell me she can't be mine."
The silence stretched unbearably long. Finally, my father sighed, nodding slowly. "I accept you for my daughter."
Relief crashed over me. I threw my arms around him, tears streaming. "Thank you, Pa."
I turned to my mother. She stood unmoving, her lips pressed tight. After a long pause, she nodded. My chest burst with gratitude.
I hugged them both, holding them tightly. My father extended a hand toward Vaishank. "Come."
He stepped forward, his arms wrapping around us, and for the first time, it felt like we were one.