Jai doesn’t miss a beat. “I’m not a customer but a friend,” he says coolly, his usual smirk in place, but I can tell he’s sizing up Aditya now. “And I’m here helping out a friend. You know, like decent people do.” He tilts his head slightly before adding, “But I don’t think you are the type to understand this.”
Aditya takes a step forward, but I instinctively move between them. “Jai, it’s fine. You should go.”
Jai hesitates, his gaze flicking to mine to check if I really mean it. Then, with a small nod, he steps back, grabbing his phone from the counter. “I’m going. But…” He turns back to Aditya, his smirk returning. “I don’t know you, but I definitely have a piece of advice for you. You might want to work on that temper, man.”
With that, he gives me one last glance before walking out, leaving me with the angry bull.
The moment the door shuts behind him, Aditya rounds on me. “What the hell was that?”
I cross my arms, already exhausted. “That was nothing. You’re overreacting.”
He scoffs. “Overreacting? First, you break things off with me. Then I walk in and see you practically on top of some guy and I’m just supposed to ignore that?”
That’s it. My patience snaps. “It’s none of your business, Aditya.”
His expression darkens. “None of my business?” He steps closer, his voice quieter. “Did you really say that?”
I hold my ground, meeting his gaze. “Yes. You don’t get to question me about my personal life. Not anymore.”
His jaw clenches, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he exhales sharply, dragging a hand through his hair before looking at me again.
“You’re pushing me to my limits,” he murmurs, almost to himself.
“I told you, Aditya. This isn’t going to happen.” I take a deep breath. But my own voice sounds distant and hollow as I speak. “Having someone like Jai around made me realise that what you and I had was never special. I can feel the same way with him—or with anyone, for that matter.”
The second the words leave my mouth, Aditya moves towards me. Before I can react, his hands grip my arms, his holdfirm, but not painful. In one swift motion, he pushes me back until my spine meets the wall, trapping me between him and the cold surface.
My breath stutters.
His eyes blaze with something dark—something wild. “Is that so?” His voice is low, rough, almost a growl. “Then tell me this—does your heart race with him the way it did with me? Do his touches leave you breathless the way mine did? Can just one look from him make you forget the rest of the world?”
I lift my chin, refusing to let his words faze me. “Feelings fade. What we had wasn’t as irreplaceable as you think. And if it was, I wouldn’t have let it slip away so easily. But I did.”
His grip tightens slightly, his jaw clenching. “You think saying it out loud makes it true? That if you repeat it enough, it’ll start to feel real? The truth is, you’re not just hurting me. You’re hurting yourself just as much.”
I take a shaky breath, my heart hammering against my ribs. I know he’s in pain—I can see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice. But that doesn’t change my decision.
Pulling all my courage, I meet his gaze. “You are just in denial. You need to wake up and see the truth. You’re not the only man who can make me feel something, Aditya.”
His expression twists for a beat, something sharp and wounded flashing across his face. For a second, I think he might say something else, might argue, might plead—
But then, his lips curl into something bitter, something almost cruel. “You’re really in a mood to piss me off, aren’t you?”
“You need to stop chasing something that’s not yours, Aditya. Find another girl. Move on. Stop wasting your time here.” My voice is steady, but my heart is not.
“Move on?” A humorless chuckle escapes him. “You think I can just forget you? Just like that?”
“You need to like I did,” I whisper.
His fingers flex against my arms before he finally lets me go.
Taking a step back, he exhales sharply, his chest rising and falling with the force of his breath. His gaze locks onto mine.
“Don’t do this. Don’t break us.” His voice is quiet, but the intensity makes my skin prickle. “I know you’re scared—scared to give in to us. But I’m here, with you. Please understand, Sana, I don’t want anyone else. I want you.”
Something in my chest tightens, but I don’t let it show. I can’t.
“That’s not my problem,” I murmur.
