A slow grin tugs at my lips as I stare at the woman sitting across from me. It’s damn near impossible to put into words how drop-dead gorgeous she looks in that dress. The way it hugs her every curve makes it almost hard to breathe. But it’s not just her beauty that gets me. It’s the fire in her eyes—the same one I saw a few minutes ago when she stood toe-to-toe with her sister’s pathetic ex and that clingy girlfriend of his.
When that girlfriend snapped at Nisha, I felt the burn of protectiveness rise in my chest, and I damn near stepped in to shut her down myself. But when Nisha looked at me and said she wanted to handle it her way, I understood that she needed to do this. Needed to give them the piece of her mind they damn well deserved. And hell, she handled it like a pro. She didn’t flinch. Instead, she just left them completely speechless.
Watching her in that moment, confident, untamed, all mine, was enough to knock the breath right out of me.
Damn, that’s my girl.
“What do you think I should order?” Nisha asks, looking up from the menu just as a young waiter stops at our table.
“The chicken steak’s solid here. That’s my usual. But if you want, you could give the burger a try too. It’s a beast… juicy and done just right,” I reply, my eyes still locked on her.
She bites her lower lip, like she’s weighing her options, her eyes flicking over the menu before landing on the waiter. “I’ll have the chicken steak,” she says, then hands him the menu with a small smile. “And a Coke.”
The waiter nods, taking her order, then turns to me. “And for you, sir?”
I glance up and hand him the menu I didn’t even bother to open. “I’ll have the same.”
The waiter nods and walks off just as I lean forward a little. “You really were something back there,” I murmur, unable to hide the admiration in my voice.
She shrugs. “It was long overdue for what they did.” Her eyes flick around, taking in the quiet, nearly empty restaurant, before leaning in towards me, as if she’s about to share a secret. “Not that it’s the first time I’ve done something like that,” she adds with a mischievous grin, easing back into her seat.
My grin deepens as I lean back in my chair. “Of course you have,” I say with that quiet certainty, letting her know I wouldn’t have expected anything less from her. “But I’d love to hear about it.”
She looks down for a beat, her fingers skimming the rim of her glass. “It was at the café I usually go to,” she begins quietly. “I didn’t even know I’d bump into them until I walked in and saw them sitting at the corner table.” Her voice stays steady, but her eyes say more like she’s replaying every second of it.
“I was shocked to see Maya and Deepak sitting way too close. And my eyes didn’t miss the way Deepak’s hand was under the table, resting on her thigh, right beneath that barely-there mini skirt.” Her jaw tightens slightly. “And when Deepak’s guilty eyes found mine, I knew I wasn’t walking out of there withoutgiving them a piece of my mind for cheating on my sister, the woman he was supposed to marry.”
She pauses as the waiter steps in and places our order in front of us.
I nod at the waiter. “Thanks.”
The waiter offers a polite smile. “Of course, sir. Just call if you need anything,” he says, before turning on his heel and walking away, leaving us alone once more.
Nisha picks up her fork and knife and slices her steak with slow, deliberate precision. “So I walked straight up to them. The café was fairly crowded, but I didn’t care who was watching. I stopped in front of their table and looked down at them with pure disgust.” She lets out a bitter scoff. “I confronted them. Told them straight up that this is what they do behind my sister’s back. Maya tried to speak, some pathetic excuse about how it ‘just happened’ and how ‘feelings are complicated.’ But I didn’t bother listening. I looked her dead in the eye and said, loud enough for half the café to hear, that her lousy excuses meant nothing, and a cheap woman like her would never understand what loyalty or real friendship truly is.”
Nisha still hasn’t taken a bite and absently pokes at her food. “People started staring. One woman gasped. A couple at the next table whispered. But I didn’t stop. I kept going, kept throwing every word they deserved right at them. I even told Deepak that he was a coward of the worst kind… the type who destroys the people who trust him without even flinching.” She takes a deep breath. “And I didn’t stop there. I pulled some cash from my purse, slammed it down on their table, and told them it was my treat, for finally showing me the snakes they really are. I said it was more than enough for me to tell my sister and get her out of his filthy hands. Then I walked out of that café without so much as a glance back.”
“Damn,” I murmur.
She gives me a small smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I never liked Deepak for Kavya. Not even in the beginning. There was always something off about him. He was charming, yes. The kind who says all the right things. But still, I could feel there was something going on behind that too-good-to-be-true persona. But Kavya was in love, too blind to see any of it. And I didn’t want to be the sister who ruined her fairytale,” she admits, gripping the fork and knife in her hands a little tighter. “That’s why, when I went home after the café, I couldn’t bring myself to tell her what I saw. She was so happy, planning her future with Deepak. I thought maybe when the time was right, I’d tell her.” Her voice cracks slightly, and she clears her throat. “I should’ve told her. But I kept quiet. I let her stay with a man I knew wasn’t good for her because I didn’t want to be the reason her world shattered.”
She blinks rapidly, her voice softer now. “I just wanted her to be happy. Even if it meant swallowing all the alarms screaming in my head.”
“You weren’t wrong,” I say, reaching across the table to cover her hand with mine. “Yes, you hid the truth from her, but that doesn’t make you the villain. It makes you the one who loved her enough to protect her, even when it was tearing you up inside.”
She looks down at our joined hands, then back up at me. “You don’t think I was wrong in hiding the truth?”
I squeeze her hand. “I don’t. Some truths are better left buried, if it means sparing the ones you love from pain.”
She doesn’t speak for a long moment. Just breathes, steady and slow. Then finally, she nods. “Thank you.”
I smile. “Anytime. Now eat your food before it gets cold.”
Soon, we slip into easy conversation. She tells me about Sunita Aunty’s obsession with crime shows, and I tell her about the time I got stuck in an elevator with a client who insistedon singing Bollywood songs to kill the silence. That makes her laugh, and it’s surely a sound I could get used to.
Throughout dinner, I keep admiring her, committing every little detail to memory as if it’s something sacred… like the way she talks with her hands when she’s excited and the light in her eyes when she’s in her element. It’s magnetic.
By the time we finish our food and the dessert, a split chocolate lava cake at her insistence, it’s past eleven. I didn’t even realize how fast time flew with her. Every second felt easy, natural, like I could sit here all night and still not get enough.
