“Please,” he whispered, reaching for my hand, turning me toward him.
His touch was so soft it hurt. It made everything real. I looked away. Down. Anywhere but his eyes.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, voice low.
How do you explain this kind of pain? The kind that doesn’t come from one wound but from years of tiny, silent bruises?
“I’m fine,” I choked.
“Try again,” he said quietly.
“I just…”
I hate how fragile I am. Like some polished glass—nice to look at until it shatters under the slightest pressure.
I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I… I need to go.”
Before I knew it, I was running. Away from him. From the waves. From myself.
Back inside, I slammed the door shut and leaned against it, heart racing. Another meltdown. Another panic attack. In front of a man I barely know.
What the hell is happening to me?
____________
Ugh.
I can’t believe I left my phone with him.Afterthat emotional meltdown. Of course, Manav had it—he was the one who swooped in when I was barely holding it together with Roy. But now it’s 10 p.m., and my phone is still missing.
He should’ve returned it. It’s mine.
I need to check my emails. I need to call Dadi. I need to tell Myra I’m not dead in a ditch. And Roy… he deserves something more than silence. An explanation. Maybe.
So, here I am. Standing outside Manav Oberoi’s room, about to knock.
Or, you know, ninja my way through a window and reclaim my phone without facing his irritatingly symmetrical face and impossibly good-smelling neck.
I knocked. Twice.
The door opened instantly.
“Hi—”Regret.Immediate regret. He stood there like a walking ad for expensive cologne and poor life decisions. Tousled hair. Bare feet. Arms crossed over a chest that should be illegal after 9 p.m.
“Hello…” he said, one brow arching ever so slightly.
“My phone. You still have it. I… kind of need it back.” Great. Now my brain couldn’t even construct a proper sentence.
“Would you like to step inside?”
“I’ll pass, thanks. Just… need my phone.”
He stared at me like I’d asked if I could adopt a goat in his backyard.
“What? You don’t like me in your house?”
“Excuse me?”
Blink. Blink.
