Shrisha entered in the mall to shop for tge engagement dress.
The mall suddenly didn't feel crowded anymore.
It felt—
Focused.
On just them.
Shrisha picked up another dress—
But before she could even turn—
Siddharth stepped in front of her.
Blocking her way.
"Where do you think you're going?" he asked casually.
She raised an eyebrow.
"Shopping. Something you clearly don't understand."
"Wrong," he said, leaning slightly closer. "I understand exactly what you're doing."
"Oh really?" she challenged. "Then enlighten me."
His eyes dropped to the dresses in her hand.
Then back to her.
"You're confused," he said. "And pretending you're not."
She scoffed.
"I am not confused."
"Then why have you rejected ten dresses already?" he countered.
She opened her mouth—
Then stopped.
He smirked.
"Exactly."
Shrisha stepped to the side—
Trying to move past him.
He moved too.
Blocking her again.
"Move," she said.
"Say please."
She narrowed her eyes.
"You're testing my patience."
"And you're still here," he replied smoothly.
A pause.
They stood there—
Too close again.
Closer than before.
"Why do you enjoy irritating me so much?" she asked.
Siddharth tilted his head slightly.
"Because you react," he said simply.
That hit.
She looked at him—
Really looked.
"And what if I stop reacting?" she challenged.
He leaned in slightly.
"You won't."
Confidence.
Calm.
Certain.
Her heartbeat picked up—
But she didn't show it.
"Overconfident much?" she said.
"About you?" he replied. "Always."
A beat.
She looked away first this time.
"Whatever," she muttered, grabbing a random dress.
He caught her wrist lightly.
Not tight.
Just enough.
"That one's bad," he said.
Her eyes dropped to where he was holding her—
Then slowly back to his face.
"Let go."
"Take the other one," he said.
"Let. Go."
A pause.
Then—
He did.
But not before his fingers brushed slightly against hers again.
Intentional this time.
Shrisha inhaled slightly—
Then masked it immediately.
"You're unbelievable."
"And you're still listening to me," he replied.
She shook her head—
But didn't argue further.
Instead—
She picked the dress he had suggested earlier.
Held it up.
"This one?" she asked, almost challenging him.
Siddharth's lips curved slightly.
"Finally," he said. "Some progress."
She rolled her eyes.
"Don't get used to it."
"I already am."
A pause.
Then—
He asked—
More casually this time—
"So… whose engagement again?"
She turned toward the mirror.
"Aakrati and Krish."
Silence.
But this time—
He didn't hide it.
His jaw tightened slightly.
"When?" he asked.
"Day after tomorrow."
"That fast?"
Shrisha nodded.
"You know their parents," she said. "Once they decide, it's done."
Siddharth looked at her reflection.
"And she agreed?"
Shrisha hesitated.
Then said—
"She didn't say no."
That answer—
Stayed in the air.
Siddharth exhaled slowly.
Shrisha finally stood in front of the mirror—
wearing the dress he had picked.
Soft.
Elegant.
Exactly what he had said.
Siddharth leaned against the wall, arms crossed—
watching her.
Not even pretending to look away.
She adjusted her hair slightly.
Looked at herself.
Then at him through the mirror.
"Well?" she asked. "Say something."
He didn't answer immediately.
Just… looked.
Slowly.
Carefully.
And that silence—
Did more than any compliment.
Shrisha turned around.
"What?" she said, a little defensive now. "It's that bad?"
Siddharth shook his head.
"No," he said quietly.
A step closer.
"It's exactly what I said."
She raised an eyebrow.
"And what did you say?"
"That you'll look good in it."
A pause.
Then he added—
"And I was right."
Something in his tone—
Was different this time.
Less teasing.
More real.
Shrisha looked at him—
Held his gaze—
For a second longer than usual.
Then looked away.
"Don't get used to being right," she muttered.
"Too late," he replied.
She turned back to the mirror quickly—
pretending to fix something that didn't need fixing.
"Pack this," she told the staff.
Siddharth smiled slightly.
"Good choice," he said.
"I didn't ask," she shot back.
"But you still took my advice."
She grabbed her bag.
"Coincidence."
"Lie."
She stopped.
Turned.
"You're very annoying."
That familiar line—
But this time—
It landed softer.
Shrisha shook her head, trying not to smile.
"Thanks," she said quickly.
Not looking at him properly.
And before he could respond—
She walked away.
Fast.
Like she didn't want to stay a second longer.
Siddharth watched her go.
That small smile still there.
Until it faded.
Because now—
Something else mattered.
He pulled out his phone.
Dialed.
Arsh picked up almost immediately.
"Yup," Arsh said.
Siddharth didn't waste time.
"Aakrati and Krish."
A pause.
"What about them?"
"They're getting engaged."
Silence.
Then—
"What?"
"Day after tomorrow," Siddharth continued. "Families already agreed."
Another silence.
He could almost hear Arsh processing it.
"That fast?" Arsh said, voice lower now.
"Yeah."
A pause.
"And she?" Arsh asked. "She agreed?"
Siddharth exhaled.
"She didn't say no."
That—
Was enough.
More than enough.
Because Arsh knew what that meant.
Or at least—
What it could mean.
The line went quiet for a second.
Then—
"Where is she?"
"Home, I think."
The call ended.
Just like that.
No goodbye.
No extra words.
Because Arsh—
Was already moving.
Fast.
Too fast.
Within minutes—
He was at her place.
Didn't think.
Didn't plan.
Just—
Went.
He rang the doorbell.
Once.
Twice.
The door opened.
Aakrati's mother stood there.
She looked at him—
Slightly confused.
"Yes?"
Arsh steadied himself.
Just for a second.
"Hello, aunty," he said.
She studied his face.
"Hello"
"I need to meet Aakrati," he said.
Direct.
No hesitation.
Her expression shifted slightly.
"She's not feeling well," she replied. "You can come later—"
"Aunty," he interrupted.
Not rude.
But firm.
"It's important."
That tone—
Made her pause.
Because it didn't sound casual.
It sounded urgent.
Real.
She stepped aside slowly.
"Come in."
And just like that—
Arsh walked in.
Into a house—
Where everything was already being decided.
Without him.
Aakrati's mother turned slightly toward the hallway.
"Aakrati!" she called out. "Someone is here… from your work."
There was a pause.
Then footsteps.
Aakrati walked in—
slow, composed—
but the moment her eyes landed on him—
she froze.
Arsh.
Standing in her living room.
Like he had every right to be there.
Her expression didn't change much.
But something in her eyes—
did.
Her mother looked between them.
"You didn't tell me someone was coming," she said casually.
Aakrati recovered quickly.
"He's… from work," she said, her voice steady. "We're working on the same project."
A brief pause.
"Arsh."
Her mother nodded politely.
"Oh, ok. Sit, dear," she said warmly. "I'll bring something."
Before either of them could say anything—
she walked toward the kitchen.
And just like that—
They were alone.
Silence.
Heavy.
Sharp.
Aakrati crossed her arms.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, low but controlled.
Arsh didn't sit.
Didn't move.
He just looked at her.
"I heard," he said.
A pause.
"Engagement."
She held his gaze.
"So?"
That—
Was enough to trigger him.
"So?" he repeated. "That's all you have to say?"
Aakrati's expression hardened.
"Yes," she said. "Because it's none of your business."
Silence.
The air shifted instantly.
Arsh let out a short breath.
"None of my business?" he repeated, quieter now.
"Yes," she said again. "You should mind your own."
Another pause.
Then—
He took a step closer.
"Really?" he said.
His voice dropped.
"Then what am I here as?"
Aakrati didn't answer.
He tilted his head slightly.
"Just a colleague?" he asked.
She didn't react.
Didn't deny it either.
And that—
Was enough.
A faint, dangerous smile appeared on his face.
"Should I go tell your mom," he said slowly, "that this 'colleague' used to be your boyfriend?"
That hit.
Hard.
Aakrati's eyes snapped to his.
"Don't," she said immediately.
Her voice wasn't loud—
But it was sharp.
Real.
Arsh stepped even closer now.
"Why not?" he asked. "Isn't it the truth?."
"Lower your voice," she snapped.
He didn't.
Instead—
He leaned slightly closer.
"Or what?" he said quietly. "You'll tell her first?"
Aakrati clenched her jaw.
"This is not funny, Arsh."
"I'm not joking."
Silence.
Because he wasn't.
Not even a little.
"You don't get to come here and create a scene," she said.
"And you don't get to pretend like nothing happened," he shot back instantly.
A pause.
Both breathing a little heavier now.
"Things ended," she said. "Accept it."
"Did they?" he asked.
That question—
Wasn't simple.
And they both knew it.
Aakrati looked away for a second.
That one second—
Was enough for him to notice.
"You didn't even tell me," he said, quieter now. "You were just going to get engaged like this?"
She looked back at him.
"This isn't about you."
"It is," he said immediately.
"It's not."
"It is when it's you."
Silence.
That line—
Stayed.
Aakrati didn't respond.
Because somewhere—
She didn't have an answer for that.
And just then—
Footsteps.
Her mother was coming back.
Both of them stepped back slightly.
Distance restored.
Expressions controlled.
Like nothing had happened.
But the tension—
Didn't leave.
It stayed.
Right there—
Between them.