“For what it’s worth... I hope you get her back,” Lucian says.
Fuck.Hope.
My eyes squeeze shut. I stumble back into the hallway, heart pounding violently against my ribcage. And then I bolt.
I barely make it to the basement room before my knees give out, dropping me to the tiny mattress in the corner.
The silence is oppressive. Then comes the first tear. Slow. Heavy. Almost unfamiliar.
Then the second. And then I let them fall freely.
For him.
Forme.
I curl into myself and whisper words no one will hear.
I hoped you’d get that girl back too, Advik. But she’s gone.
And what’s left in her place... is a woman who doesn’t know how togiveanymore.
To her, hope ispoison. Trust is acommodity. And love?
Love is a luxury.
THIRTY-FIVE
Greesha
I stare at the text again.
Viraj: Get him back. We’ve got a plan.
A sigh slips out as I lower the phone and glance up.
Advik stands near the entrance of the farmhouse, half-shaded by the soft orange lights and the flower canopy being held up for the bridal walk.
Aarohi is adjusting herlehenga, ducking beneath the floral arch. She looks radiant. Joyful. Maybe even impatient.
And I? I’m tucked into the shadows off the edge of the lawn, blending in with the farmhouse staff—discreet,forgettable. The only thing setting me apart is the ammunition strapped under these plain-looking clothes.
I shouldn’t be watching himthisclosely.
But I do.
Every time he smiles. Every time he blinks. Every time he winces just slightly when he moves his arm.
Is he still hurting?
His shoulder—it’s still bothering him.Fuck.
I see it in the way he favors it, the way he fumbled when he tied that stupid ribbon to the scissors earlier so the groom could “cut his way into the function” and have thebaraatenter. I was there too. Watching from a distance. Invisible.
God!Why do I still have all these feelings from before? Or are they new? Maybe they’re residual?
But they don’tfeelold.
They feel raw.Redefined.
