I can't believe this is the same man I fell for.

I swear, if he weren’t my crush, I would’ve smashed his head against his own car. Or better yet, I'd kick him hard between his legs and I’d slap that witch bodyguard that he’d forget his own name.

His bodyguards sat around too—some inside their cars, some at a slight distance from me. All because he told them to. I never imagined he’d be this childish.

Black heart with a brown face. I hate him now.

And he wasn’t just troubling me—he was annoying his own men too. If we had a conversation before, I swear I would never have fallen for him. Ugh. He was just sitting there in his car, doing nothing but scrolling through his phone like a spoiled brat.

And the idiot doesn’t even know how dangerous my family is.

What if my brother finds out? He’d be upset, maybe even scold me. And my mother? I've already booked a hospital bed for myself. She’d slap me so hard I’d hit the ground.

I shot daggers at him with my eyes. Meanwhile, he was still busy on his phone, looking as relaxed as ever.

Curiosity got the best of me. Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, "By the way, who was that girl?"

His gaze lifted to meet mine, amusement flickering in his eyes.

"Nihal, ye kahin kuch jal raha hai kya?" he mused, still staring at me. And then he waved his hand around his nose.

[ Nihal, Is something burning? ]

I clenched my jaw, my eyes narrowing. Oh, he’s playing games now? "Umm... I think so," that idiot Nihal played along, smirking.

He turned back to me, his voice softer but dripping with sarcasm. “Thi koi.”

[ Was someone ]

My heart did an uncomfortable flip.

"Someone special," he added nonchalantly, just as I looked away.

I didn’t respond. I wouldn’t respond. But something inside me twisted painfully.

I mean, she was beautiful. Younger too. No wonder he might have a crush on her.

I forced myself to let it go. His eyes were still on me, but I refused to meet his gaze. Because if I did, I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop myself—I would ask him more questions, questions I wasn’t ready to hear the answers to.

"Aankhen toh milao, San—"

[ Meet my eyes, San— ]

He stopped abruptly.

My eyes flickered up to him instinctively, locking onto his.

"I mean... Anjali Sharma."

His voice had dropped, softer now, almost careful. His gaze was steady, unblinking, like he was searching for something in mine.

He knew my name? Of course, he did. But why hadn’t he used it? Why didn't he just complete my name with that mouth of him.

My stomach twisted. He just exposed me for stalking him, humiliated me in front of his guards, but he still hadn’t said my name—not even once. But Anjali Sharma? Oh, that name just rolled off his tongue so easily.

Now I hate this Anjali Sharma.

"Someone close," he continued, as if twisting the knife deeper. "We talk a lot... even share numbers."

I stiffened. He casually shrugged off his blazer, looking too damn smug for my liking.

Why was he telling me this? What was the point?

I didn’t ask all this. I mean, okay, I did ask—but not this deeply!

As I sighed and rolled my eyes, I muttered, "Five more minutes, then I'm going." A clear message that I wasn’t interested in hearing any more of his stories.

Silence settled between us again.

He got up from his seat, walking a few steps ahead toward his guards. His conversation with Nihal seemed serious, but I barely paid attention. Instead, my eyes remained fixed on him.

Who cares what they’re talking about?

I had to memorize this moment, take in every detail—his posture, the way he moved, the slight furrow in his brows. I didn’t know if I’d ever see him like this again, in real life, so I had to steal as many glances as I could.

His guards started getting into their cars. Nihal opened the door for him.

And then—he turned to look at me one last time. For a brief second, our eyes met. Something flickered inside my chest, an ache, a thrill—I couldn’t even name it.

Then, he smiled. Just slightly. And before I could even process that small, almost teasing smile, he slid into his car and rolled up the tinted glass.

I let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding. His car drove away. Gone. Just like that. I looked down at my watch. What? It wasn’t just five minutes—it had been ten.

Time had slipped away, faster than I wanted. Why couldn’t it have just stopped? Why couldn’t I freeze that moment—the way he sat in front of me, talking to me, looking at me while discussing about another woman?

I chuckled to myself, shaking my head. I’m definitely getting scolded when I reach home.

I turned and rushed to my car, a wide grin tugging at my lips. But as I drove off, I noticed something in my rearview mirror—his guards’ car following behind mine.

I bit my lip, unable to stop the smile spreading across my face.

When I reached home, I stepped out of my car and waved at them—high, exaggerated, making sure they saw me.

See? I reached safely.

I turned and ran inside the house, calling over my brother’s guard as I passed. "Park the car in the garage, please!"

I didn’t wait for his response. Right now, all I cared about was making it inside before my mother saw the time and started her dhamaal.

I stepped into the living room, and instantly, all eyes were on me. My footsteps slowed as realization hit—my brother wasn’t here.

My protector wasn’t here.

"Sanaya, you're home?" My grandmother's voice held concern. I gave a small nod, my gaze shifting toward my mother. Her death glare sent a chill down my spine.

I swallowed. Calm down. Just explain.

"It was... traffic—"

I took slow steps toward her, but she suddenly uncrossed her arms. My heart pounded as I glanced around at everyone’s expressions.

The atmosphere was far more intense than I had imagined.

"Maa—"

Before I could say another word, her palm connected with my right cheek. Hard. That made my face felt like a electric shock. So hard that I lost balance and collapsed onto the floor.

"Bahu—" My grandfather moved forward, concern flashing across his face.

"Don't interfere," my mother snapped. "This is between me and her. Let me ask her where she was, and if she lies—I'll drag her out of this house."

A bitter scoff escaped my lips. Why doesn’t she just do it already? I had been waiting for this for so long.

"Where were you?" my mother continued asking, her voice sharp as she removed her slipper. I glanced at her face, and for a moment, I wondered—was she really my mother?

The next second, the slipper came down hard on my arm. A burning sting spread across my skin. I rubbed the spot instinctively, but not even a gasp left my lips. I didn’t allow myself to cry. I didn’t allow myself to stop her either. And I didn’t even know why. Maybe because she gave birth to me. Maybe because a part of me still craved her approval.

"Answer me!" she yelled, raising her hand again.

She bent down, her fingers tightening into my hair, yanking my head back with a force that sent a sharp sting through my scalp. A gasp left my lips, but I swallowed back the pain. My breath hitched as I stared at the slipper hovering just inches from my face.

I looked up, searching her eyes—desperate, foolishly hopeful. Hoping to find even a sliver of kindness, But there was none.

The sting on my cheek, the ache in my arm, the sharp pull on my head—none of it hurt as much as the emptiness in her gaze.

Before the next strike could land, Kritika rushed in between us. She kneeled beside me, wrapping her arms around me protectively. "Mami, have you gone mad?" she shouted, her voice shaking with anger. "Please stay away! And you all? None of you even cared to ask if she was okay? What if something bad had happened to her out there?"

I glanced at Kritika, and the worst part? She was wrong. She was defending me for something I wasn’t even innocent of. I wasn’t caught in danger—I was too busy stalking a man. Their concern didn’t make sense. It only made my guilt heavier.

"Who were those guys?" My aunt’s voice sliced through the room like a blade. My breath hitched. My fingers curled into the fabric of my kurti.

"Shilpa called me," she continued, her tone laced with suspicion. "She saw you with some men."

I lowered my gaze. My heart pounded in my chest. I had no answer. Because the truth was, I was with men. And it wasn’t for a job interview. It wasn’t exactly something my family could be proud of.

"…I was… eating outside and my ex-boss came there. PWe had a conversation… I mean, I apologized for fighting with him earlier," I lied, pushing myself up from the floor. I dusted off my hands and picked up my bag, keeping my expression neutral.

I looked at both women, waiting for the next interrogation.

"And you got this late just because of that?"

"Traffic," I answered smoothly. "It was really heavy out there." My gaze wandered around the house, pretending as if the topic didn’t hold much weight.

"Can I go to my room now?" I asked. They didn’t respond, but their silence was enough of a yes. Without wasting another second, I turned toward the stairs, eager to escape their inspection.

Just as I reached the first step, I stopped and turned slightly. My lips curled into a smirk as my eyes landed on my aunt.

"And yes, Bua ji… Shilpa Aunty se kehiyega, doosron ki beti par kam dhyaan dein jab khud ki beti ke chaar boyfriend ek saath rehte ho."

[ And yes, Bua ji… Please tell Shilpa Aunty to worry less about someone else's daughter when her own daughter has four boyfriends at the same time. ]

Aunty's glare sharpened instantly, her face burning with embarrassment.

"And if you don’t have enough guts to say it to her, let me do it for you." I tossed the words with finality before dashing up the stairs, Turning my back on their furious glares .

I placed my bag on the table and sank onto the couch, slipping off my shoes. Just as I was about to let out a sigh, Kritika walked in. I flashed her a wide smile, trying to lighten the mood.

“You know what? Wo kitna bada kamina hai! Mummy kasam, bahut marne ka mann kar raha tha! Uski wajah se hi late hui hoon main, upar se itna embarrassing feel ho raha tha—”

[ You know what? He’s such a huge rascal! I swear on my mom, I really felt like punching him! I got late because of him, and on top of that, it was so freaking embarrassing— ]

“Are you okay?” She cut me off, her voice soft with concern. She sat beside me, her eyes scanning my face.

“Of course! What would happen to me?” I shrugged, Acting unfazed. “If you're asking whether I’m sad about this, then absolutely not.” I clarified, brushing the topic aside.

I finished taking off my shoes and walked over to the mirror. She watched me through the reflection, worry still evident in her eyes. Sitting on the stool, I began removing my makeup, aware about her staring.

“Di… isn’t your face hurting? It’s all red.” Her voice wavered, and when I turned to look at her, I saw her lips quivering. “And look at your arm… the slipper mark is visible.” She sniffled, eyes brimming with tears.

I swallowed hard as realization struck me like a truck. I had become shameless—so indifferent to my own pain that I no longer reacted. I didn't even cry. I didn’t feel bad. Maybe because, deep down, I had accepted it. Maybe because I believed I deserved it. After all, no parent wants their child to lie and stay out late just for a man.

“She could’ve at least asked you softly,” Kritika muttered, wiping her tears. “Didn’t even care why you were late, if there was a problem… Mami is too rude.”

I stayed quiet, unsure how to comfort her. I never knew what to do when someone cried in front of me—especially when I was the reason for it. The situation felt suffocating.

So, I walked to her and draped an arm around her shoulders. “Bro! This is why I always say we’re lucky that we’re girls.” I chuckled, ruffling her hair gently.

She frowned. “And what if you get in-laws like them?”

I smiled faintly, my voice softer this time. “But there would be acceptance… unke liye ye toh hai ki woh paraye hain. Paraye ka dukhaya dil kam dukhta hai, lekin jab apne hi rulate hain, phir dil ko dil khane lagta hai.”

[ For them, it's just that they are outsiders. The pain caused by strangers hurts less, but when your own make you cry, it starts eating you up from within. ]

With a deep sigh, I threw myself onto the bed, my body bouncing slightly. Spreading my arms wide, I stared at the ceiling.

“I don’t fear anything anymore,” I muttered with a laugh. “I’m used to it now.”

" So you are sleeping in my room tonight, I have a lot of things to tell you, Ughh," I kick the topic away.

' ofcourse I'm excited " she chuckled and glanced at me with red eyes.

To be continued......

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