14 ~ Kissing Chahat
Kartik's POV.
I looked at her and nodded, already sensing something was off.
And then she said it.
"I can't marry you."
For a moment, I had simply looked at her.
"Okay," I had replied.
She looked surprised. "Bas... okay?"
(Just... okay?)
"I'm not interested in this marriage either," I told her bluntly. "It's happening because of family pressure. Not because I want it."
Something in her expression softened instantly.
Relief.
"Actually I love someone else," she admitted quietly.
I nodded. "I figured."
There was no point pretending.
We both knew.
We were strangers being pushed into something neither of us wanted.
"Please... is baat ko ghar pe mat kehna," she said quickly. "Agar yeh rishta abhi toot gaya na... toh bahut problem ho jayegi. Mere liye bhi... aur sab ke liye bhi."
(Please... don't mention this at home, If this relationship breaks now... it'll cause a lot of trouble. For me... and for everyone else, too.)
I understood that.
"What's your plan?" I asked.
She hesitated then whispered, "I'll leave on the wedding day."
I watched her carefully.
She was serious.
"What about you?" she asked cautiously. "Aap... problem create toh nahi karoge?"
(You... won't create any problems, will you?)
A humorless smirk had tugged at my lips.
"I won't create any scene," I added. "Don't worry."
Because honestly I didn't care enough to. If anything, this was the easiest way out.
We had both agreed.
"Kartik?"
Dad's voice pulled me back to the present.
I blinked once, focusing on him again.
He was still watching me carefully.
"I said I'm fine," I repeated. "I'll marry Mukti."
A long pause followed.
Then slowly he nodded still unsure and doubtful.
But he didn't push further. "Thik hai," he said finally.
(Okay.)
And that was it.
Conversation over.
I turned and walked out of the study.
I unlocked the door to my room and stepped inside.
I loosened my tie as I walked towards my bedroom, carelessly dropping my blazer over the armrest of the couch. My cufflinks followed, landing on the glass table with a soft metallic clink.
I unbuttoned my shirt and threw it onto the bed before disappearing into the bathroom.
The cold shower should have helped.
Usually it did.
The icy water washed away exhaustion after long days, forcing my mind back into order.
I stood beneath the shower for several minutes, letting the water run over my face.
Instead...All I saw was her. Her face when she was trying to push me away as if it was so wrong.
By the time I stepped out of the bathroom, I had convinced myself that work would fix it.
Work always did.
Dressed in comfortable black track pants and a charcoal-grey T-shirt, I settled into the chair before my desk.
The laptop came to life.
Unread emails, financial projections and a merger proposal.
I opened the first document.
The words blurred together. Instead of numbers.
I remembered her beautiful eyes.
Instead of contracts.
I remembered tears.
Instead of profit margins.
I remembered Rivan's arms around her.
I slammed the laptop shut.
"Damn it."
I leaned back, rubbing my forehead.
"Is ladki ne sach mein dimaag kharab kar diya hai."
(This girl really driven me crazy.)
I wasn't getting any work done tonight.
That realization irritated me more than anything else.
Without thinking further, I picked up my phone and dialed Ayaan.
He answered on the second ring. "Haan."
(Yes?)
"Free ho?"
(Are you free?)
A brief pause. "Haan."
(Yes.)
I stood and walked toward the balcony overlooking the city lights.
"If you're free..." I spoke casually. "...let's go out."
There was silence then he laughed softly. "Feeling bored?"
I ignored the question. "Are you coming or not?"
"I would..." He sounded almost apologetic. "...but actually I'm going to meet Ishika."
I hummed. "Fine."
"If you want, you can come too." He said.
"No." I answered immediately. "You go."
"Ishika mujhse milne nahi aa rahi." He chuckled. "Actually she's meeting one of her friends at a cafe. I just thought I'd surprise her. You can come. After that we'll hang out."
(She's not actually coming to meet me.)
"Nahi. Tum jao."
(No. You go.)
Another brief silence followed then almost too casually he said, "Waise...Chahat bhi aa rahi hai."
(By the way... Chahat is coming too.)
Silence.
Even the city below seemed quieter.
My grip around the phone tightened unconsciously.
"So?" The word left my mouth colder than intended.
Ayaan laughed. "I'm just informing you. Don't think too much. I'll pick you up in twenty."
Before I could refuse again the call disconnected.
I stared at the phone.
He had done that on purpose. I knew him well enough to recognize it.
I should have called him back and refused. Instead I walked back into the bedroom.
Almost mechanically, I opened the wardrobe.
My hand reached for the first shirt then stopped. Without knowing why, I pushed it aside and picked up another.
An olive-green shirt.
I buttoned it slowly before standing before the mirror.
The colour suited me. I adjusted the collar, ran my fingers through my hair and pushed a few strands back.
Then suddenly stopped.
What was I doing?
I stared at my own reflection.
Seriously?
Since when did I care how I looked before meeting anyone?
.
.
.
Twenty-five minutes later, Ayaan parked outside a quiet cafe tucked away from the city's chaos.
Warm yellow lights spilled through the glass windows. People sat laughing over coffee.
Soft music floated into the evening air.
Not my kind of place.
We stepped out of the car.
Ayaan checked his phone. "I'll call Ishika." Before he could dial he looked up. "There."
I followed his gaze instinctively. They were walking toward the cafe.
I noticed Ishika first.
Then.
Her.
For a brief moment everything else disappeared.
Chahat walked beside Ishika, completely unaware that I was watching.
She wore a plain white fitted crop top.
Just... white. Simple, effortless and completely impossible to ignore.
The fabric traced her silhouette without excess, hugging the curves of her body in a way that made my mouth go dry.
It ended just above her navel, leaving a sliver of her waist exposed.
That smooth, bare skin that I had touched, that I had traced with my fingers, that I had dreamed about every single night since the day I've said yes to her.
That waist...the one that had that mole. The one that drove me insane.
Her faded blue jeans complemented the effortless look perfectly. The denim hugged her hips, outlining the gentle curve of her thighs, with distressed detailing that revealed glimpses of skin through the tears. The fading evening light caught those tiny patches of bare flesh, making them glow golden.
There was nothing extravagant about her appearance.
Nothing designed to attract attention.
And perhaps that was exactly why it did.
Her hair was loose tonight.
Not tied up. Not pulled back. Just loose. Dark waves cascaded down her shoulders, swaying gently with every step she took. The strands caught the light, shimmering like silk.
She laughed at something Ishika said...a real laugh, genuine and unguarded. Her head tilted back slightly, her eyes crinkling at the corners, her smile wide and bright.
For the first time since I'd met her, she looked carefree.
Different from the girl I'd seen hiding behind lowered eyes and hesitant words. Different from the girl who had stood on that terrace, trembling in my arms.
This Chahat was lighter and freer. I found myself staring again without realizing it.
"Kyaa baat hai. You're too busy staring at your finance's little sister."
(What's going on?)
The word hit me like a slap.
The title I hated. The title reminded me of everything I was trying to forget.
"I'm not staring."
"Really?" His eyebrows rose. "Because I've never seen you look at anyone the way you're looking at her right now."
I didn't respond because I couldn't, he was right.
She saw me and her smile faded. She looked at Ishika and asked something like Why didn't you told me he's coming as well?
They were walking toward us now.
I could see her hesitation in every step. The way she slowed down, the way her eyes darted around like she was looking for an escape. The way her fingers twisted together nervously.
But she couldn't escape.
Because Ishika was pulling her forward, dragging her towards us.
"Kartik tum kya kar rahe ho yahan?" Ishika asked and before I could say anything Ayaan held her hand and pulled her towards himself. "Tumhara pura dhyaan mujhpe hona chahiye..."
(Kartik, what are you doing here?) (Your entire focus should be on me...)
"Accha..." Her fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, and she pulled him down toward her and then she kissed him right there in the middle of the street with everyone watching.
(Oh really...)
Ayaan and Ishika. Always like this. Always so... open.
I sighed, turning my head away. I was used to it...they'd been like this for years, completely shameless, completely unconcerned with who was watching.
But Chahat...I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye.
Her eyes were wide. Her lips slightly parted. Her cheeks flushed with a deep pink that spread all the way down her neck. She was staring at them like she'd never seen two people kiss before.
Innocent... So fucking innocent.
Ayaan and Ishika finally pulled back, both of them grinning like fools. Ishika's lipstick was slightly smudge, and Ayaan had a look of pure satisfaction on his face.
The four of us walked into the cafe together.
I was acutely aware of Chahat walking beside me or rather, beside Ishika, but close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from her skin. I could smell her perfume, that floral scent that had been haunting my dreams.
We found a table near the window. Ayaan and Ishika sat on one side, naturally gravitating toward each other. That left me and Chahat on the other side.
Perfect.
she's trying to pretend I don't exist.
Not going to happen.