Chapter 46 First Kiss
My mind goes blank. I don’t know what to say. My face heats up, and shyly, I hide it against his chest.
Wrapping his arms around me, he teases affectionately, “Wifey, I don’t treat anyone else like this. You’re the only one I treat softly. So you have to pay me back… for all this love.”
I lift my head and look at him with wide, innocent eyes. “I can’t pay… I don’t have any money.”
He laughs in disbelief, running a hand through his hair. “I meant pay with your love, not money…”
Before I can respond, he leans in and gently presses his lips against mine, I freeze. When his lips touch mine, it feels like time stops. I can’t move. I can’t think. My breath catches in my throat as a single tear slips down my cheek, stopping midway like an emotion I don’t know how to express. Yet, deep inside, something flutters. Something new. Something unfamiliar.
He strokes my back gently and whispers, “Breathe, wifey…” Slowly, I close my eyes and take a deep breath. My breathing steadies, but my heart keeps racing, trapped safely in his arms.
Panic hits me. I try to move away, my hands resting hesitantly on his shoulders. I lean back slightly, but he doesn’t let me go. His arm tightens around my waist, pulling me back to him.
With a playful smirk, he says, “Sweetheart… you don’t even know how to kiss properly. I guess I’ll have to teach you everything.”
My cheeks burn with embarrassment. I bite my lower lip and look down. Leaning back again, I whisper softly, almost pleading, “Please let me go…”
But he has no intention of letting me go. He pulls me closer, his grip firm yet possessive. There is mischief in his eyes dangerous, magnetic and leaving me breathless and confused.
Leaning close to my ear, he murmurs, “Wifey, do you really think I’m going to let you go?”
My heart pounds so hard it feels like it might escape my chest. I want to run, yet something about his embrace strong and keeps me grounded.
He lifts my chin gently, forcing me to meet his eyes. In a low, sincere tone, he says, “I never came too close to you before only because I didn’t want to hurt you. Ever."
I don’t answer. My lips tremble before I whisper, “Please… let me down…” He looks at me firmly. “Sit just like this. Quietly.”
I look up at him, then slowly rest my head against his chest, curling into his lap. Closing my eyes, I let myself breathe, let myself feel safe. His fingers run gently through my hair, soothing me, and wrapped in his arms, I slowly drift off to sleep.
It is evening in India, and the sky slowly darkens. A strange chill hangs in the air, but the emptiness inside Shorya makes it feel even colder. He stands alone in the garden of his bungalow, a cup of coffee in his hand, yet even its warmth fails to ease the cold gripping his heart.
His face looks tired, his eyes heavy with a sadness that speaks of something missing something no luxury can replace. He is hungry, yet he feels no desire to eat. Sometimes hunger isn’t for food; it’s for someone’s presence, someone’s care and that is what he craves now.
Shorya stares at his phone for a long moment before finally dialing Sunaina’s number. The call connects quickly, and her voice rings loud and lively, mixed with party noise. “Hello baby…”
He forces a faint smile that never reaches his eyes and speaks softly, “Baby can we go out for dinner tonight? I’m feeling hungry and kind of off.”
Sunaina giggles instantly. “No darling, I’m at the club! There’s an amazing party going on. I got late, so I won’t be able to come today.”
Shorya pauses, then says gently, “At least come for a little while, I’m waiting…”
Her reply comes without hesitation. “No Dear, let me enjoy the party. We’ll meet tomorrow, okay? Bye.”
The call disconnects.
Shorya keeps staring at his phone, frustration and disappointment sinking into his face. His heart feels heavier than before. A flicker of anger flashes in his eyes. He exhales slowly, and another name echoes in his mindNeeti.
Neeti… who always cares. Who always asks, “Did you have dinner?” Who waits for him, worries for him. Her presence has quietly become a part of his life, a comfort he never realized he needed until now, when she isn’t there.
Without another thought, he dials Neeti’s number. The phone rings once… twice… no answer. He tries again still nothing.
Restlessness builds inside him. He throws the phone onto the seat with a frustrated sigh.
“No one cares about me… not Sunaina… not Neeti… everyone’s busy with their own lives,” he mutters bitterly.
Hunger no longer matters. Disgust settles inside him even toward himself. He grabs his car keys, storms toward the gate, and slides into his car. The engine roars to life, tires screech, and he speeds away, his mind clouded with restless thoughts.
Shorya parks outside Rajput Mansion and steps out, his heart pounding not just with hunger, but with a longing he refuses to admit. The cool evening air brushes against him, yet it does nothing to calm the storm inside. He walks through the gates and enters the mansion, his footsteps echoing softly in the grand hallway.
Inside, the house is alive. Ruhi and Karan run around laughing. Ruhi clutches Karan’s white doctor’s coat, trying to drape it over him playfully while he dodges her with mock irritation. The lively warmth of the mansion clashes sharply with the chaos inside Shorya.
Mrs. Shobha notices him and immediately lights up. She walks toward him warmly. Shorya bends down and touches her feet respectfully, taking her blessings. Mr. Ajay appears beside her, and Shorya greets him the same way.
Mrs. Shobha smiles fondly. “Child, when did you return from Rajasthan?”
“Just yesterday,” Shorya replies calmly.
Mr. Ajay raises his brows slightly. “But Neeti said you were going for a week, so she came here to stay for the whole week.”
Irritation flickers across Shorya’s face. Neeti… you little schemer, he thinks. Let’s see how you plan to stay for a week. I’ll deal with you now.
Out loud, he lies smoothly, “The work finished early, so I came back.”
Ruhi rushes to his side with a teasing grin. “So you couldn’t stay away from my sister even for two days, huh?”
Shorya smirks. “Actually, she wasn’t answering my calls. I need to talk to her about something important.”
“She’s on the terrace,” Mr. Ajay says casually.
Before Shorya can move, Ruhi grabs his hand excitedly. “Come, I’ll take you,” she says, dragging him toward the stairs.
Downstairs, Mrs. Shobha turns to Karan. “Shall I serve dinner now?”
“Yes, Mom,” Karan replies. “I need to sleep early. We’re leaving for Dehradun tomorrow morning for a three-day doctors’ camping trip.”
Mrs. Shobha frowns. “It’s very cold there. Did you pack properly?”
“Yes, Mom,” Karan answers.
She shakes her head knowingly. “You probably didn’t. I’ll do it myself,” she says and heads to the kitchen.
Up on the terrace, Ruhi and Shorya step outside. The cold air greets them, but nothing prepares Shorya for the sight ahead.
Neeti stands alone near the edge of the terrace, lost in thought. The wind gently lifts her hair, and the fading light outlines her calm.
Ruhi runs up to her teasingly. “Di… the one you were thinking about is here.”
Neeti turns, confused then freezes. Her eyes widen when she sees Shorya standing behind Ruhi. Shock floods her face. Her throat goes dry. Her heart races, hands trembling slightly.
Ruhi giggles and runs back inside, leaving them alone. Now, only Shorya and Neeti stand on the silent terrace.
Shorya walks toward her, step by step, until he is right in front of her so close she can hear the anger and emotion in his breathing. His eyes lock onto hers, filled with questions, fury, and something deeper he refuses to name.
Neeti remains frozen, unable to speak, unable to move. The distance between them is only a breath.