“I just—” he starts when Aarav pulls me to his side.
“Let’s go to thatgolgappastall you have been ogling since we came here,” he says, and Reyansh glares at him. “Reyansh, are you coming?”
“Of course,” he tells her, before his eyes settle back on me. “I go wherever my wife goes.”
The words lit up an entire swarm of butterflies in my stomach. I walk ahead with Aarav when I feel something tug mydupatta. I peek over my shoulder to look where it’s stuck, and I see Reyansh wrapping the end of thedupattain his right hand.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
There goes my Bollywood-obsessed heart.
“It was sweeping the floor,” he says with a knowing smile. “I will keep it secure somewhere nice.”
He winks at me, and I am too flustered to say anything.
I am slowly getting used to his flirty remarks again, the way his eyes turn all warm on me, and the way his smile makes my heart race again. I am getting used to all of that again, and god, I don’t want to fight the feelings it gives me anymore.
I no longer feel the need to run away from him.
But I need more of…reassurance? I don’t know.
I think God needs to come and tell me some way that it is safe for me to fall again.
Fall in love with him again.
The guy at the stall hands each of us a plate before serving. I feel Reyansh’s eyes on me, and because I don’t have a single flirting bone in my body, I say.
“Are you going to eat or just stare?”
He tilts his head, and I pop onegolgappain my mouth. The immense burst of flavors makes me want to break out in a happy dance, but I don’t, of course.
“I am going to do both,” he says, and I roll my eyes.
Goddamn his ways.
We eat in silence, the DJ music playing in the background. I take a peek at Reyansh, who chooses to eat in silence, when I notice something on his right palm.
I furrow my brows, dumping my plate in the nearby dustbin and wiping my hands with a tissue before taking his hand in mine.
He gets slightly flustered when he sees me pulling him towards me.
My eyes widen, my cheeks turn hot, and I feel my heart tearing up inside.
What is this?
“You got my name written on your hand?” I ask the obvious.
My name is written in perfect calligraphy, making it look as if it is a special word.
“Of course,” he says, tilting my head upwards with his fingers on my chin. “This was the important work I went away for. I am sorry, but I just wanted to surprise you.”
The sincerity in his voice and the pure emotion make tears gather in the corner of my eyes, but I bat my eyelashes to send them away.
“This is…beautiful. Thank you, Reyansh. This is very special for me; you have no idea.”
He cups my cheek. “It is special for me too, Aisha. You are special for me.”
* * *
