I let out a dry laugh. “Calling meJaanduring an active op isn’t your style either, Viraj.”
His eyes flicker at the use of his full name. I haven’t called him that in... almost a year. It lands like a slap.
“We’re not on duty right now,” he replies coolly, raising a brow.
I smirk, but it’s bitter. “We always are.”
The words hang between us—and the weight of them hits me in the gut.
He and I arealwayson duty. Always planning, coordinating, pivoting.
My mind flickers back to every moment we were intimate... followed immediately by logistics. Debriefs. Assignments.
And now I can’t stop thinking:is there ever an off switch with us?
I exhale and pivot, keeping my voice even. “There’s some unresolved stuff between Advik and me. He’s been persistent about having a conversation. And I think... I think I need to let him. Close that chapter properly.”
Vir’s jaw tightens. His eyes dim just slightly.
“And what aboutourchapter?” he asks, voice quieter now. “Why is that on hold?”
I circle around him and gesture vaguely toward the building exit. “Every fucking thing is on hold. We’re in the middle of an assignment.”
“We never hit pause before,” he says, following me out the main door. “Not during other ops. Not even during extraction week in Jammu. And now we’re just... not going to make love?”
“Fuck,” I say, whirling on him. “Wefuck, Vir. That’s all it is.”
He doesn’t even flinch. Just lifts his hands in surrender.
“You fuck me,” he says calmly. “But I make love to you. Every single time. Youknowthat.”
I let out a groan of frustration, dragging a hand through my hair. “I told you what this was. From day one. No promises. No ties.”
He’s steps away. Hands on his hips when he lets out a heavy sigh. “You don’t see it, do you?”
“Whatdon’tI see?” I snap.
“No.” Vir steps closer, his voice softer now. “Youdosee it. You just don’t trust it. Orbelieveit.”
Before I can stop him, he cups my face in both hands—like I’ll shatter if he squeezes too hard. His forehead presses gently against mine.
“I love you, Greesha,” he whispers.“I love you.”
My breath stumbles out of me.
I want to push him away. Scream. Run. Anything to stop the ache forming in my chest. Apparently my limit is one vulnerable moron a day.
But I don’t. I just whisper, almost rehearsed. “I know.”
He lets out a sigh. “Someday.”
Then he leans in and kisses me—soft, reverent. No tongue. No pressure.
Just... pause. For now.
When he steps back, his voice is back to business. “You bring your bike?”
I nod mutely. “Near that pole.”
