"I was just telling him that," Kritika said with a laugh.
They continued talking—about the food, about Samarth's health, about upcoming family events. Planning around him like he wasn't there.
Like this was their domain, and he was the beneficiary of their care.
And suddenly, he couldn't breathe.
This was what Nimisha lived with every day. Being talked around, planned for, managed by people who thought they knew better.
The difference was, Nimisha had never been welcomed into these intimate moments. Had never been allowed to bring him lunch or move through his space with easy familiarity.
She'd been kept firmly outside the circle that Kritika occupied with such confidence.
"I need to go," he said abruptly, standing.
Both women looked at him in surprise.
"But you haven't eaten—" Saroj started.
"I'll eat later." He grabbed his jacket. "I have a meeting."
He didn't. But he needed out of that office, away from the sudden suffocating realization of what he'd been doing.
He'd been giving Kritika everything he refused to give his wife.
Library - 2:15 PM
Samarth found Nimisha exactly where he expected—curled in her window seat, laptop balanced on her knees, completely absorbed in whatever she was writing.
He stood in the doorway, watching her.
Her brow was furrowed in concentration. Her fingers flew over the keyboard, pausing occasionally as she searched for the right word. When she found it, a small smile would cross her face before she dove back in.
She was beautiful like this. Unguarded. Lost in a world she was creating.
A world where love existed. Where heroes cherished their heroines. Where happy endings were possible.
The irony wasn't lost on him.
She sensed his presence, her typing slowing. She looked up, wariness flickering across her features when she saw him.
"Do you need something?" she asked.
"No."
But he didn't leave.
She waited, confused, before returning her attention to her laptop.
He moved closer, unable to help himself. "What are you working on?"
She glanced at him again, surprised by the question. "My next book."
"What's it about?"
"It's... a romance. Like all my books."
"I know that. I'm asking about the plot."
