26 Ansh Is Niyatis Partner #3
She was attending the ball with me purely because circumstances had forced her hand. Aarush had met with an accident, she needed a date to enter, Diya had panicked and called me, and I had agreed. It was a simple chain of events. Nothing more.
At least, that was the story I kept forcing myself to believe as I slipped into the white shirt, slowly fastening the buttons before pulling on the trousers.
Once fully dressed, I stepped in front of the floor-length mirror.
The navy tuxedo fit flawlessly, the sharp tailoring accentuating my shoulders.
I adjusted my cuffs and strapped my silver watch around my wrist before taking the tie.
I knotted it once, looked at the reflection, untied it, and knotted it again.
Yet, something still felt incomplete. My eyes drifted toward the pocket square on the bed. Picking it up, I carefully folded the silk and tucked it into my breast pocket. It was a minor detail that no one at the venue would likely notice, but I knew exactly why I had added it.
Deep down, I could already picture the midnight-blue silk of her gown resting beside it on the dance floor.
I swallowed hard, shaking my head at my own reflection. God, you are absolutely hopeless, Ansh.
Checking my phone on the nightstand, I saw there was still plenty of time before I needed to leave-far too much time, in fact.
Having nothing left to do meant my mind was free to wander, and thinking about Niyati was always a gamble for my peace of mind.
I sat down on the edge of the mattress, leaning forward with my elbows resting against my knees.
Would she actually enjoy the evening?
Would she feel uncomfortable standing beside me in a room full of her classmates?
Would she regret letting Diya volunteer me as her partner?
Would the sight of me bring back memories of everything that had gone wrong between us?
Or would we, just for a few fleeting hours, be able to forget the weight of our past?
I didn't have the answers, and the uncertainty left a tight ache in my chest. I had spent months wishing for another chance like this-not necessarily to claim her as mine, not yet, but just to stand beside her without feeling like an intruder in her life.
A chance to hear her quiet laugh, to make her smile, to be the person she looked for when a room grew too loud. Tonight, the universe had handed me that chance, and I was terrified of messing it up.
My phone suddenly buzzed against the nightstand, making me start. For one foolish, hopeful second, I thought it might be a message from her. It wasn't-just a routine work email notification.
I let out a quiet laugh at my own desperation, tossing the phone aside. You're twenty-one years old, Ansh. Get a grip.
A few seconds later, the screen lit up again with a distinct message tone. I picked it up instantly.
I rolled my eyes, my thumbs moving over the keyboard.
Her response came back almost instantaneously.
I stared at the screen, a genuine laugh escaping me. Leave it to my sister to ruin a moment of dramatic brooding. I stepped back, snapped a quick mirror selfie, and hit send.
I smiled faintly, typing back:
The typing indicator appeared, vanished, and reappeared three separate times before her final message popped up.
My smile faded. I stared at the word glowing on the screen. Together.
I looked up at my reflection in the glass again-midnight blue. Her gown was going to be midnight blue as well. It hadn't been entirely intentional when I put the suit on, but seeing it now, the subtle match felt almost symbolic, like a quiet secret shared only between us.
I typed out a long reply, erased it, tried another, and erased that too. Finally, I settled on a simple line.
Diya immediately reacted with a string of laughing emojis, followed by a quick text:
Shaking my head, I slipped the phone into my inner jacket pocket and stood up. I took one last look in the mirror.
The man looking back at me appeared calm, polished, and composed, but I knew the truth beneath the suit.
My heart was beating far too fast for a routine college gathering.
Behind the tailored jacket was someone who had spent months longing for one specific girl-someone who still remembered the exact warmth of her hand, the soft cadence of her voice, and the devastating reality that he had never truly stopped loving her.
I took a deep, steadying breath. Tonight wasn't about demanding answers or fixing our history in a single evening. It wasn't about forcing confessions she wasn't ready to make.
Tonight, I simply wanted her to have a wonderful time. I wanted to see her face light up. I wanted to hold her close if she allowed me a dance. And if, for just a few precious hours, she forgot about the pain of our past... then that would be more than enough for me.
Grabbing my car keys, my eyes lingered one last time on the reflection of the midnight-blue fabric. Maybe she would notice the matching suit. Maybe she wouldn't. Either way, as I walked out the door, a soft, genuine smile settled on my face.
Because tonight, after months of painful distance, I was going to stand beside Niyati again. Not as a boy demanding her future, but simply as Ansh-the person who loved her unconditionally. And for tonight, that was all that mattered.