PROLOGUE
Greesha
THREE YEARS AGO
“What—what did you just say?”
I freeze, halfway through pulling off Advik’s socks. He’s been stumbling around for a while now.
The so-called party we just returned from? It wasn’t really a party—it was a farewell. A send-off for Aarohi. She’s leaving for Canada. A friend of his. A fixture in our relationship that I can’t fully grasp. A walking question mark I was never allowed myself to ask.
I could never understand why I lost him whenever she was around. His attention fractured at the sight of her. I would... disappear.
Advik doesn’t bring her up constantly. Not in obvious ways. And only when we all hung out as a group. It’s alwayssubtle. So subtle that I’ve never had a justifiable reason to voice my jealousy. His plausible lifelong crush? Never stated out loud. Just...understood.
His brother, Vikram has been dating Aarohi’s cousin, Ishika, for four years. They’re practically family. Which means she is always going to be around.
So for the past year and a half, since we started dating, I’ve lived with the ghost of another woman.
And I buried it. Swallowed it whole. Because Advik said he lovedme. And Aarohi never paid him attention.
That should’ve been enough.
But right now, in this moment, it all comes boiling up.
“Can you r-repeat that, Vik?” I ask, my voice unsteady. He’s barely awake. Drunk. Slurring.
We don’t live together, but for the last three months, I’ve basically been here almost every night.
I moved cities for this man. Changed my entire career. He doesn’t evenknowwhat I used to do—who I used to be—before I switched to a vanilla private job in investigative journalism.
All of it—forhim.
“It’s jusss... she’s leaving,” he mumbles. “And I couldn’t even kiss her gubye. ‘Coz I can’t kiss her in front of Gree. She’ll bepisssssed.”
My hands still.
So Ididhear him right.
“You can,” I say, calmly tucking him in. “You can kiss her in front of Gree. But you won’t be able to kiss Gree ever again. Does that work for you?”
My voice is soft. Sickly sweet. Like I’m cooing at a child. But inside—I’m erupting.
This? This was the end. No recovery.
He whimpers. “I dunno... I wanna kiss Gree though. Her kisses are perrrrfect.”
I wait for that warmth—something,anything—to slide into my chest.
Nothing.
When he finally starts snoring, I leave him in the bed and build a makeshift camp on the couch.
No dramatic goodbye. No one-last-time kiss to mourn the end.
Whatever our last kiss was... our last hug, last laugh, last fuck—that was it.
And there will never be a repeat.
