Mishti froze, confused. She did not know what to say. She had never stood before him like this, wrapped in fabric that was almost see-through, so short, and that belonged to him. She did not know where to look, where to hide, what to do with her hands or her body. Instinctively, she turned slightly, about to walk away.
But Karan did not let her.
He caught her arm and turned her back to him, not letting go.
“This ismyshirt.” His eyes searched her face as he spoke again, slower this time.
She swallowed hard before the words tumbled out. “Yes. I… I found it in the closet. I just… I…”
“I never brought a white shirt to Jaipur, Mishti,” he said quietly.
She went completely still. Karan gently pulled her closer.
“You carried my shirt with you to London. Why?”
There was no escaping it anymore. The truth had surfaced, and tonight, she did not want to lie. Not after how he stood before his family and laid his heart bare before her.
She looked down, unable to meet his eyes, and nodded. “Yes, I did. I thought you would never notice one shirt missing from your closet.”
He nodded slowly, because she was right. He had never noticed. It was only tonight, only after seeing her wearing it, that he understood. But that was still not the answer he was looking for.
Karan lifted her chin with his thumb, gently forcing her to look at him. “Why?” he repeated.
She took her time, and when she spoke, there was no hesitation left.
“Because I wanted something of yours,” she said quietly. “Something I could hold on to while I lived away from you.”
His eyes filled with tears before he could stop them.
“I wore it sometimes,” she continued. “At nights when I missed you too much.”
Karan did not interrupt. He did not move.
“I don’t know why,” she sighed. “But it made me feel closer to you. Like you were still there.”
Her fingers tightened slightly in the fabric between them.
“It made me feel like I still belonged to someone. Like, there was still someone in the world who had the right to me. In every way.”
She finally looked up at him then, her eyes giving away her pain.
“Even if you were far away,” she said. “Even if I believed you never missed me at all.”
Karan lifted his hand slowly and pressed a finger to her lips, stopping her before the words could wound her further.
“Don’t,” he said hoarsely. “Don’t ever say that again that I didn’t miss you.”
He cupped her face in between his palms.
“Because I missed you like hell, Mrs Mishti Wadhwa.”
Her breath caught.
“And the only proof of that is this. Ever since you left that house, I could not sleep in my bedroom anymore. Not once. Every night, I ended up in your room. In your bed. The place where you once lived. Where you once slept. Because it still carried your essence. I could not sleep anywhere else.”
Now after knowing he had slept on her bed all these months in her absence, a rush of something tender and fierce jolted inside her. Before she could think better of it, her fingers curled into the fabric of the shirt he was wearing, fisting it tightly as she pulled him toward her. She rose on instinct and claimed his lips.
The kiss caught him off guard. For a heartbeat, he froze. And then, the moment her mouth pressed firmly against his, the restraint he had been holding onto shattered completely. He kissed her back with the same hunger, his hands sliding over her back, drawing her closer, pressing her body flush against his.
