He’s once again dressed in a tailored black shirt paired and matching trousers, the expensive fabric hugging his broad frame to perfection. The top three buttons of his shirt are left undone, revealing the faint sprinkling of hair across his chest and the thin chain resting against his skin. And it doesn’t help that every time I look at him, my focus simply vanishes.
I keep noticing Raghav’s gaze wandering to me too. I’m wearing a sleeveless black bodycon dress that falls just above my knees. The scooped neckline dips low enough to accentuate my collarbones and the thin straps leave my shoulders bare.It’s elegant, understated, and very me. I’ve paired it with a delicate chain around my neck with a single solitaire diamond pendant, and on my feet are a pair of black stilettos with crystal-embellished ankle straps, one of my own designs that isn’t available else. They’re my favourite pair, designed solely for myself.
Every few seconds, his gaze slides over me, turning my breathing uneven before returning to whatever conversation Krish or Vishnu is having. It’s as though the man is trying very hard to behave and failing miserably.
Not that I’m doing any better.
After last night, there’s a different intensity in our gazes. It feels as though the ice between us has finally begun to melt. I can see it in his body language too. He doesn’t seem as guarded anymore, and neither do I.
As more drinks and starters arrive, the conversation somehow shifts towards first meetings. Trisha smiles to herself, and Krish catches it instantly.
“What?” he asks suspiciously.
Laughing, she recalls how they first met in Mumbai. Not in this particular club, but in another one, where she had barged into the men’s restroom while chasing a drug peddler. Krish almost chokes on his drink before bursting into laughter, saying that if she had arrived thirty seconds earlier, she would’ve probably fainted because the poor guy wouldn’t have had enough time to zip up.
Everybody laughs while Trisha pulls out a soft cushion from behind her and throws it at him. Meher immediately shares that this club seems to hold a significance in her life as well. Ayaan grins and proudly reminds everyone that he had put the ring on Meher’s finger in this very club.
Simran laughs nervously, adding that she and Vishnu have their own memories of this place as well. This was where theycame closer, and the rest, as they say, is history. Veer was born exactly nine months after that night. Everybody whistles while Vishnu shakes his head fondly.
Sitting among them, watching them laugh, tease, and relive old memories, I realise that this club holds something special for every couple at this table. Memories. Beginnings. Second chances.
And strangely enough… Raghav and I had met for the very first time in this same place. Then something clicks inside Meher’s head, and her gaze shifts between Raghav and me. She suddenly grins.
“Oh, come on now. Don’t tell me I have to spell it out. This place is special for you two as well, isn’t it?”
I blink, confused. “What do you mean?”
Meher gasps dramatically. “Really? Fine. If you don’t want to remember it, let me remind you. About ten months ago, we caught Mr. Raghav Kundra here carryingyoursandal.”
My eyes instantly widen.
He carried my sandal?
Across from me, Raghav simply leans back in his chair, one arm draped lazily over the backrest, looking entirely unbothered. He even has the nerve to give methatlook.
Meher continues to tease. “Till date, he’s never told us the story. We all just found him carrying your sandal like some lost prince from Cinderella. And today, we want answers.”
I look at Raghav, but he merely lifts his glass to his lips and remains perfectly silent while everyone waits expectantly.
Of course. Raghav Kundra is many things, but explaining himself has never been one of them. So, all eyes turn to me instead.
“Yes,” I finally begin. “This was where I first met him. I was here fighting the Vardhaan men who had tracked me down afterI escaped Cape Town. And right in the middle of that madness, Raghav stepped in and helped me fight them.”
I stare at him again, remembering how, somewhere in the middle of that chaos, one of my sandals had slipped off. I hadn’t even stopped to think about it. If I had turned back, they would’ve caught me. So I had left it behind and even forgotten about it. I never knew that while helping me fight those men, he had somehow picked up my sandal too.
And now, months later, in this very club, the man who had first walked into my life as a complete stranger is sitting across from me as my husband.
CHAPTER 37
RAGHAV
I stay quiet while Siya ends up telling everyone about that night. I can’t hear half the words coming out of her mouth because I’m too busy watching her. The way her fingers absentmindedly play with the stem of her glass. The black dress hugging her curves. That delicate diamond pendant resting against her neck.
My wife looks absolutely breathtaking.
And God help me, I still haven’t recovered from last night. Not from the nail marks she left on my arm, nor from the fact that every time she smiles, something primitive inside me simply wants to pull her into my arms and keep her there.
Suddenly, she turns towards me, her beautiful eyes filled with confusion. “What were you doing with my sandal?” she asks.
