Walking to my car, I lean against it, casting her a disinterested glance. “That’s the thing, Samantha. I prefer simple things in life.”
She rolls her eyes, standing in front of me. “Come on, Aditya. You and I both know you don’t settle for simple. That’s just not who you are.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “You don’t know me well enough to even begin to understand what I prefer.”
A seductive smile forms on her lips. “Well, I do know you, and what I don’t know, I’ll learn after our marriage.”
She must be delusional if she thinks I’d ever marry a woman like her. It didn’t even take me an hour to see through her. It was that obvious. She’s a selfish, self-obsessed woman. And this—this is exactly why the idea of marrying someone like her makes my stomach turn. It feels like a trap. Forced smiles, empty conversations, no emotion whatsoever, and just pretending to be someone I’m not, like it’s some goddamn stage performance. But with Sana? It’s different. With her, I want it all—marriage, kids, a life. When I’m with her, there’s no act, no filter. Just real, raw happiness. She’s the one who makes everything feel right.
Knowing I need to shake Samantha out of her delusion, I let out a low chuckle, my smirk returning in full force. “Samantha, the only thing you’ll be learning is how to handle disappointment, because there is no ‘our marriage.’”
Samantha’s eyes flash with a mix of shock and indignation, but she quickly masks it with a saccharine smile.
“Oh, darling,” she purrs, moving her perfectly manicured finger on my chest. “You say that now… but we both know men like you always come around. It’s only a matter of time before you realize what you’ve truly been missing once I satisfy every one of your needs.”
I grab her hand and push it away from my chest. “Keep dreaming if you think I’ll ever crave someone as damn bitchy as you. Hell might freeze over, but I’d sooner burn it down than let you anywhere close.” Then, tilting my head as my patience wears thin, I add. “And maybe the men you’ve been with are the ones who see marriage as a business deal, a status symbol to uphold. Men who care more about their name than who they really are. Men who just want a trophy wife to parade around. But I’m not one of them. I totally refuse to waste my time on some shallow charade that’s nothing but smoke and mirrors.”
She crosses her arms as she glares at me. “Oh please, keep telling yourself that. It’s cute how you think you’re so different. But beneath that mask of the idealistic man you’re trying to wear, you’re just like every other man—craving the same one thing from a woman.”
“Save your psychoanalysis. I don’t hide behind masks—I own who I am. And whatever I want, it’s on my terms. Just like I don’t want you.” I give her a slow once-over, smirking. “Never will.”
She huffs, eyes blazing. “How dare you insult me like that?”
I shrug. “You asked for it, don’t blame me.”
She exhales sharply. “Honestly, you’re not in the right frame of mind. Let’s just end this here and go home before it gets worse.”
I want to argue that I’m perfectly in my right mind, but I don’t, because the only thing she said that actually hits is,‘End this here.’That’s music to my ears. I’m done with this conversation. Done with her.
“Sure. I have booked you a cab. It’ll be here in a minute and will take you home.”
She narrows her eyes. “A cab? Really? A gentleman, as you claim to be, would drop his date home.”
“Gentleman, yes—but this was never a date.” My gaze locks on her. “You came here thinking you could make me a marriage offer I wouldn’t refuse. And I let you—for the sake of entertainment.” I nod toward the approaching cab. “Now, be a good sport and take the ride.”
Her jaw clenches, lips parting in disbelief. “I don’t need your fucking cab. I can manage just fine.” She then lifts her chin. “If you think behaving like this will make me say no to the marriage, then you’re mistaken. Now, it’s a matter of ego. I’ll make sure I don’t marry anyone but you.”
I chuckle darkly, shoving my hands into my pockets. “That’s the thing about ego—it makes people chase things they’ll never have.” I take a step closer, lowering my voice just enough to make my words cut sharper. “You want to marry me? You’d have better luck convincing a storm to stay still.”
Her lips press into a thin line, “We’ll see.” Then, without another word, she spins on her heel and storms off.
Looking at my watch, I see I have few hours before Sana clocks out. Leaning against my car, I exhale slowly, my thoughts circling back to her.
She locked herself in her office right after taking our orders. I knew I had pushed her too far. I saw the hurt in her eyes before she turned away. That’s why I didn’t demand she show up. I didn’t force her to talk because I knew she needed to cool down, and I wasn’t about to make things worse.
But now, I need to see her. I don’t want to leave without talking to her, even though I know it won’t fix anything.
I hear the sound of the café door opening. She steps out, unaware that my eyes are on her. Sana walks towards her car, lost in her thoughts, but the moment she notices me, her steps falter.
I stand straight as I meet her halfway.
She doesn’t speak; she just crosses her arms. The fire in her eyes is dimmer than usual, replaced with something heavier, and I hate that I put it there.
“Sana—” I begin, but she shakes her head, cutting me off before I can say anything more.
“Why are you waiting outside my café?” Her voice is sharp, but beneath it, I hear the exhaustion. “Planning to pull another one of your sick stunts?”
I exhale, meeting her tired gaze. “No stunts this time. Just a conversation.”
