Sunlight sliced through the half-drawn curtains like a knife. It fell across the bed in harsh stripes, illuminating the tangled sheets, the discarded clothes, the two bodies still wrapped around each other as if letting go would make last night disappear.
Naira woke first.
Aarav's arm was heavy across her waist, his breath warm and steady against the back of her neck. She lay very still, listening to the rhythm of him sleeping—the soft hitch every few breaths, the way his fingers twitched like they were still holding on even in dreams.
She didn't want to move.
If she moved, reality would rush in.
But reality never waited for permission.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. Once. Twice. Insistent.
She reached for it carefully, not wanting to wake him.
Priya.
Where are you? Breakfast is happening in the banquet hall. Shanaya is asking for you. And… people are talking. Aarav didn't come back to his room last night. Rhea left early this morning. Like, suitcase-in-hand early.
Naira's stomach dropped.
She stared at the message. Then at the man beside her.
She set the phone down. Face down.
Aarav stirred.
His arm tightened around her.
"Morning," he mumbled, voice thick with sleep.
She didn't answer immediately.
He opened his eyes. Saw her expression.
"What happened?"
She handed him the phone without a word.
He read Priya's messages. Once. Twice.
Then he exhaled slowly, like air leaking from a punctured tire.
"I told Rhea last night," he said quietly. "After the sangeet. When you went up. I went to her room. Told her everything."
Naira sat up, pulling the sheet around herself.
"Everything?"
"Everything I could say without hurting her more than I already have." He sat up too. Ran a hand through his hair. "She cried. Screamed a little. Threw a pillow at me. Then she packed. Said she needed space. Said she always knew there was someone else but hoped she was wrong."
Naira looked at him.
"And you let her go."
"I didn't stop her." His voice cracked. "I couldn't. It would've been crueler to make her stay."
Silence fell between them. Heavy. Full of things neither wanted to name yet.
She finally spoke.
"Do you regret it?"
He looked at her like the question physically hurt.
"No." Firm. "I regret the years I wasted. The hurt I caused. But not last night. Not choosing you again."
She nodded slowly.
"But now the whole wedding knows. Or will know by lunch."
He reached for her hand.
"Let them know."
"It's not that simple."
"I know it's not."
She pulled her hand away. Not harshly. Just… needing to think.
"I need to shower. And think. And maybe eat something before I face everyone."
He nodded.
"I'll go to my room. Shower. Change. Then meet you downstairs?"
"Okay."
He leaned in. Kissed her forehead. Soft. Lingering.
"I love you," he whispered.
She closed her eyes.
"I know."
He dressed quickly. Left with one last look back.
The door clicked shut.
Naira sat there for a long minute.
Then she cried.
Not loud. Not dramatic.
Just quiet tears sliding down her cheeks.
Because joy and guilt and fear and love were all tangled so tight inside her chest that she couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.
She showered until the water ran cold.
Dressed in a simple yellow kurti and white palazzo.
Went downstairs.
The banquet hall was buzzing.
Aunties gossiping over idli-sambar.
Cousins taking selfies.
Shanaya spotted her first.
Ran over. Hugged her tight.
"You okay? You look… tired."
"I'm fine." Lie.
Shanaya searched her face.
"People are saying Aarav and Rhea broke up. Last night. And that he… didn't sleep in his room."
Naira swallowed.
Shanaya's eyes widened.
"Oh my god. It's you."
"Don't say anything. Please."
Shanaya hugged her again.
"I won't. But… are you happy?"
Naira thought about it.
"I don't know yet."
Priya joined them. Looked between them.
"You two are terrible liars. Everyone knows."
Naira sighed.
"Of course they do."
Priya squeezed her arm.
"Just… be careful, okay? This isn't college anymore. Hearts are more fragile now."
"I know."
Aarav appeared then.
Freshly showered. White shirt. Dark jeans.
He walked straight to their table.
Didn't hide.
Sat beside Naira.
Took her hand under the table.
Openly.
A few heads turned.
A few whispers.
He ignored them.
Leaned close.
"You okay?"
"No," she whispered back. "But I will be."
Breakfast passed in a strange haze.
People stared.
Some smiled knowingly.
Some avoided eye contact.
Shanaya's mother came over. Looked at their joined hands.
"Beta," she said softly to Naira, "sometimes the heart knows before the mind catches up. Just make sure it doesn't break again."
Naira nodded.
"Yes, aunty."
After breakfast, they slipped away.
Walked the hotel gardens.
The wedding was still two days away. Haldi tomorrow. More chaos.
But right now, the garden was quiet.
They found a bench under a neem tree.
Sat.
Aarav spoke first.
"I don't want to rush you into anything. Labels. Promises. Moving cities. Anything."
She looked at him.
"But?"
"But I want to be with you. Properly. No hiding. No secrets."
She exhaled.
"I want that too. But I'm scared."
"Of what?"
"Of you leaving again. Of me not being enough. Of us turning into another sad story."
He took both her hands.
"I'm not leaving again. I'm done running."
"How do I believe that?"
"Time," he said simply. "Give me time to show you."
She looked at their hands.
"I can do time."
He smiled. Small. Hopeful.
They sat in silence for a while.
Then she spoke.
"Remember the last time we fought? Before you left?"
He nodded.
"You said I was holding you back."
"I was an idiot."
"You were scared."
"Still am," he admitted. "But not of you. Of losing you again."
She leaned her head on his shoulder.
"Then don't."
He kissed the top of her head.
"I won't."
They stayed like that until the sun climbed higher.
Then they walked back.
Hand in hand.
No more hiding.
The whispers followed them.
They didn't care.
That evening, during the cocktail hour, Rhea's name came up.
Someone asked Aarav directly.
"She went home," he said calmly. "We ended things."
No details.
No drama.
Just truth.
Someone asked Naira later.
"Are you two… back?"
She looked across the room at Aarav. He was laughing at something Vikram said. Caught her eye. Smiled.
That same lopsided smile.
"Yeah," she said softly. "We're trying."
The person smiled.
"Good. Some loves deserve a second chance."
Naira hoped she was right.
That night they went back to her room.
No rush this time.
They undressed slowly.
Touched slowly.
Loved slowly.
Like people who finally understood how fragile it all was.
He kissed every scar he could find—literal and invisible.
She traced the lines on his back where she'd once left marks.
They moved together like they'd never been apart.
And when it was over, when they were tangled again, breathing the same air, she whispered against his chest:
"I'm still scared."
He held her tighter.
"I know. Me too."
"But I love you more than the fear."
He kissed her temple.
"That's enough for now."
They fell asleep like that.
Two people who had finally stopped running.
But the world outside hadn't stopped.
Tomorrow would bring more questions.
More eyes.
More reality.
And somewhere, deep down, both of them knew:
The simple part was over.
The complex heartbreak?
It was waiting in the wings.
Patient.
Inevitable.
But tonight?
Tonight they had each other.
And they held on like it was the only thing that mattered.
Because maybe it was.