And that leaden weight in my stomach from last night—after overhearing everything—hasn’t lifted. In fact, it’s heavier now, tangled with Viraj’s cryptic message from earlier this evening.
Whatever plan he has, I’ll need to make sure we leave right after the damn ceremony.
The music shifts.
Aarohi steps into the aisle with her band of friends and family—her brothers flanking her sides. The moment is pure, magical, picture-perfect.
But I’m not watching her.
I’m watchinghim.
Advik is bickering with a girl I recognize instantly—Kashvi Mehra. I’ve never met her. But I’ve done my research.
She’s Aarohi’s best friend. Fierce. Loud. Unfiltered.
I don’t know her. I knowChristian Reidthough. Her colleague and... friend. They both work for the global investigation firm, SentinelOne—that once employedme. Back when I was in a relationship with Advik.
Our paths never crossed because we were in different branches—different countries. I doubt Kashvi was even a part of it then. But I did work with Christian once. Nice guy. Solid tech expert. Gay. Or maybe he’s bisexual because he never leaves Kashvi’s side from what I saw in the reports.
She’s currently involved with Liam Winters—cofounder of Kepler Health alongside the groom, Lucian Vale.
My hackles rise as the music suddenly cuts out.
Hand flying instinctively to the gun at my side, I scan the lawn for a threat—eyes darting, breath locked in my throat.
But it’s a false alarm.
A random American song kicks in, the crowd bursts into cheers, and the serene energy of the wedding shifts into laughter and joy.
I exhale slowly, my muscles still coiled from the scare, just in time to catch sight of him.
Advik. Laughing.
Trying to dance with one hand while his other shoulder—still recovering—holds up the goddamn canopy.
He shouldn’t be carrying anything yet, let alone a floral structure during a bridal walk. But I suppose it’s something he refused to be talked out of.
And then it hits me.
He’s carrying theflower canopyforAarohi’sbridal walk.
And he’s happy doing it.
I already knew—somewhere between last night and this morning—that he had no concerns about her wedding. That he was...okaywith it.
But this? Thissealsit.
This makes it undeniable.
Because no man would do that—carry the symbolic passageway for the woman he still pined for—unless he was truly, deeply, unequivocally at peace with letting her go.
And it kills me.
His glee makes my teeth grind. Because now, another reason to hate him has slipped away. Because he’shappywith this.
But even then... even in this whirl of colors and noise and people, I can tell:the sorrow he silently carries isn’t for her.
It’s forme.
