Mishti let out a soft sound,a moan, as she parted her lips, surrendering to him again. His tongue met hers, demanding yet unhurried. The slow strokes of his tongue inside her mouth stole her breath, even as she silently begged him not to stop. The kiss deepened further, and only when air became an absolute necessity did they finally pull apart.
Their foreheads remained pressed together, both of them breathing hard, both aware that the desire between them had only intensified.
Mishti was the first to steady herself in some time.
She did not push him away. There was no reason to. He had not taken anything from her. That kiss had been mutual, chosen,and she knew she would remember it for the rest of her life, as it had ingrained in every fibre of her body.
Yet, slowly, she stepped back, still holding his gaze.
The anger that had driven him here had faded. Whatever had been tormenting him had eased.
Karan did not need an ice cream truck to cool his temper. He neededher.
She gently slipped out of the circle of his arms, and he let her go. Mishti turned and walked back toward the resort, unhurried, her arms folding around herself as if holding onto the memory of what had just passed, trying to steady her racing thoughts.
Karan sighed. It had always beenhimso far who walked away after moments like this. Tonight, it was her. But she was not running. She was simply restoring the distance between them, because he knew that this kiss did not mean forgiveness. For that, Karan still had a long way to go.
CHAPTER 39
Next Day
Avni sat in her room, surrounded by VK, Rajat, and Mishti. Preparations for the upcoming wedding rituals were in full swing. Trays lay open on the bed, lists were being cross-checked, and boxes of gifts were being arranged—things meant for close relatives ahead of the mehndi and other pre-wedding ceremonies scheduled to begin in the next couple of days. Mishti sat beside VK, helping him sort and pack the gifts.
Rajat, however, noticed some tension in Avni’s posture. The faint gloom that hadn’t left her face all day.
He nudged her lightly. “What happened?” he teased with a grin. “Already getting nervous about the wedding?”
Avni didn’t answer. She merely looked away and continued helping VK pack the gifts, her movements a little too brisk.
“I noticed it too,” Mishti said, frowning slightly. “You’ve been like this since morning. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Avni replied at once. “I’m fine.”
Mishti was unconvinced.
“Listen,” she said calmly, trying to ease the moment. “This is normal, okay? Brides feel all kinds of nervousness and confusion as the big day gets closer. It happens.”
Avni stayed silent.
VK chuckled, attempting to lighten the atmosphere. “If you ask me,” he said, smiling, “Rajat should be the one worried, not Avni. We all know how strong she is.”
He turned to Rajat, wagging a finger playfully. “You’d better be prepared, my boy. Handling a wife like Avni won’t be easy. She’s going to keep you on your toes.”
Everyone laughed, except Avni.
Just then, Karan and Abhimanyu walked in, carrying a large, beautifully decorated thali of shagun. It was a ritual, gifts given by the bride’s side to the bride. As Avni’s brothers, this responsibility fell on Karan and Abhimanyu, and together they brought the heavy tray inside.
Avni’s gaze snapped up instantly, and her eyes hardened as they landed on Karan.
Carrying the thali filled with sarees, jewellery, dry fruits, envelopes of cash, and other bridal essentials, Karan walked toward VK and Avni. “This is the shagun from the bride’s side,” he said.
VK’s face lit up. “Oh, Karan,” he said warmly. “This is absolutely beautiful. You both have really outdone yourselves.”
Then he turned to Avni. “You know,” he added gently, “both your brothers prepared this together. They decorated the thali themselves and selected every item with so much care. All for you.”
Avni’s eyes flicked to the tray. Then anger simmered, and instead of taking the thali from Karan, she pushed it away.
The tray tipped, its contents spilling across the bed she was sitting on—sarees sliding, jewellery boxes clattering, dry fruits scattering everywhere.
