“I will make the Rathores pay. The name they pride themselves on will be dragged through the mud, every dirty deed of theirs exposed,” I whisper to myself, my fingers flying as I begin typing the article.
???
After polishing off Mom’s yummy aloo paratha, I sling my bag over my shoulder and step outside, smiling the moment I spot Samarth leaning against his jeep. He’s dressed in his favourite blue jeans and black shirt, arms crossed, dark sunglasses on, the morning sun catching the edges of his grin.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he says, pushing off the jeep and pressing a soft kiss to my forehead, just like he always does, before opening the passenger door.
“Morning,” I say with a smile as I slide into the passenger seat. He shuts the door and walks around to the driver’s side, but before he can start the engine, I ask, “Can we… not go straight to the office? Can we stop at our spot first?”
He glances at me and nods, pressing the accelerator. “Of course.”
Through the drive, he doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t push. He knows me well enough to recognise when to stay quiet. He knows I’ll talk when I’m ready.
Thirty minutes later, we reach the old lake. Samarth gets out first and walks to the front of the car, leaning against the hood with his arms folded, quietly waiting. I join him and take a deep breath before I turn towards him.
“I got a lead yesterday.”
His brows lift as he turns to look at me. “Against the Rathores?”
I nod. “Yes. And I have the article ready.”
He watches me for a long second, then lets out a slow breath. “Like I said, I am with you, Meera. But after meeting those assholes… I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried.”
“I know,” I say with a small smile. “But worrying won’t change what needs to be done. I can’t walk away, Samarth.”
“I know I can’t stop you. Just… don’t put yourself in a place where I can’t reach you,” he counters gently.
“I won’t. Now will you relax?” I nudge him lightly with my shoulder. “And you, being a journalist, should know this is what we do.”
He nods with a helpless smile.
“There’s… something I want to tell you,” he says quietly, his voice suddenly sounding different, unsteady in a way I’ve never heard before.
I blink. “What is it, Samarth?”
Samarth stares at me, and I catch the way his throat works as he suddenly swallows hard. Then, with a shaky exhale, he finally says it.
“I love you, Meera.” He pauses, his voice roughening. “Like… really love you. Not as a friend. Not as someone I just care about. But more. So much more.”
“W-what?” My breath stutters, the words barely making it out.
We’ve been friends for years. He’s been my comfort, the place I ran to without thinking. My safest place. But never once had my heart tilted towards love. Not like that. And I truly believed he felt the same… that whatever we shared began and ended in friendship.
This… this is something I wasn’t prepared for.
“I’ve loved you for years, but I never found the courage to tell you.” He looks down at the ground for a second. “I don’t even know when it started,” he admits. “Maybe it was the night you cried over your first rejected article. Or maybe that time you dragged me out at midnight because you wanted hot chocolate fudge ice cream.” He exhales softly. “I just… kept falling. Slowly and quietly. And by the time the truth finally hit me, it was far too late to pull back.”
I shake my head immediately. “Samarth… I… we’re friends. Best friends. I never...”
“I know,” he says gently. “But I needed you to know.”
My chest tightens painfully, and I reach out and take his hands in mine. “Samarth… I care about you so much. You’re important to me. But not… like that.”
He nods, a flicker of disappointment crossing his face before he masks it. “Yeah… I figured.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Trust me, you’re not.” He takes in a shaky breath. “Loving you doesn’t mean expecting you to love me back. I just… couldn’t keep it inside me anymore.”
