SAANVI'S POV

“How was your day?”

I nodded slightly, my eyes still glued to my phone screen. I could hear papa sigh beside me. The car moved steadily through the quiet lanes. I turned to look at him.

“Are you angry?” he asked gently.

I let out a quiet sigh, leaning back in my seat. “No. Just a bit tense with surgeries. I’m not angry.”

“I didn’t mean to make you feel like me and Adrika betrayed you, Saanvi.”

I smiled faintly and looked out of the window. “I know. You and maa... you're the only people I trust.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head.

“But you didn’t have to go through all that,” I said, looking down at my lap, “I’ve stopped caring about what they think about me now.”

“But I care,” he replied firmly.

I glanced at him. He didn’t look at me, his eyes remained focused on the road.

“Not about them. About you. I wanted you to walk outside without that weight in your name. Without that lie tied to you. I’ve seen you, Saanvi. I know you won’t say it, but it hurts you. That lie, the blame, it bruised something in you. I just wanted to prove you innocent. Not for them... for you. There’s a big difference.”

My chest tightened. I clenched my fists on my lap, blinking away the sudden blur in my eyes. I reached out and hugged him from the side, resting my head gently on his shoulder.

He sighed, and I felt his hand come up to softly cradle the back of my head, his palm warm and reassuring.

“Thank you so much...papa,” I whispered.

He chuckled under his breath.

I pulled away and wiped my tears quickly.

“You called me papa... what do you want now?”

I smiled. “I called you papa because I meant it.”

He pulled the car to stop near the gate and turned to look at me. “And you’re still my little stupid nurse,” he said, a wide grin spreading on his face.

My smile faded instantly. I narrowed my eyes at him. “That’s so disrespectful. I call you Papa with emotions and you throw this at me?"

“Since when did you start caring about respect and disrespect?” he raised a brow smugly.

I stuck my tongue out at him in irritation. His eyes widened. “You spoiled brat!”

I scoffed, grabbed my bag, and stepped out of the car. He followed, locking the doors behind us.

“By the way,” I turned to him, “how did you even find out about that call recording?”

He smirked and glanced at me as we walked toward the house. “Navya recorded it. She was being cautious... thought if Saarth betrayed her, she’d have proof she wasn’t alone.”

I blinked. “Wait, how do you know that? Like,Who's feeding you this insider info?"

“I wasn’t alone,” he said with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

I narrowed my gaze. “Then who was with you?”

He paused at the door and nodded toward it. “They’re all inside waiting for you.”

Before I could process that, he grabbed my hand and tugged me forward.

The moment we stepped in, I froze at the entrance.

What. The. Hell.

One… two… no, six unfamiliar uncles and aunties were seated on the living room couches, laughing, eating, chatting, while maa stood proudly in the middle of a group of equally enthusiastic aunties.

I stood there, stiff, blinking like I had walked into a wedding reception.

“Finally, everyone’s here,” papa announced, his voice raised just enough to catch attention.

And it did. Everyone turned. Everyone.

Why are they all staring at me like I’m a product sample?

“You could have told me guests were coming. I would’ve come late on purpose,” I hissed to papa.

“Shut up,” he muttered, his smile fixed as he nudged me forward. I scrunched my nose at him in disbelief

Maa stepped in with her usual warmth, gently pushing papa to the side. “How was your day?” she asked.

I nodded with a polite smile.

Then she turned to the crowd and raised her voice proudly. "Everyone, meet her, Dr. Saanvi. Our beautiful daughter."

I pressed my lips together in a smile, trying to stay calm under the spotlight. Please, someone open a hole in the ground and let me jump in.

"Hello, Saanvi," one of the uncles greeted politely. He looked vaguely familiar.

I smiled back. "Hello, Uncle."

"That’s Nishkarsh," Maa said. "Kabir’s father."

Ahh, right. I had seen him once at papa’s office when I dropped off a file. That’s where I’d seen him.

“Saanvi beta, go change. We’ll all talk after,” maa said warmly.

I nodded and turned to head upstairs when my eyes landed on another uncle sitting at the far end of the couch. A woman sat beside him, probably his wife, who was glaring at him like he’d said something incredibly stupid. Meanwhile, he was smiling at her like her death stare was the most adorable thing in the world.

My eyes narrowed slightly.

He had striking blue eyes. Sharp jawline. A bit too good, looking for his age, honestly. I wouldn't lie, he was handsome. But more than that... he looked familiar. Too familiar.

I frowned, tilting my head slightly.

Where have I seen him before?

“Saanvi”

Maa’s voice snapped me out of my staring contest. She chuckled. “I know he’s handsome, but stop staring, okay?”

My eyes widened in horror.

My cheeks burned.

WHAT THE—!?

“Excuse me,” I muttered quickly and dashed up the stairs to my room, locking the door behind me.

“Fuck you, Saanvi,” I groaned at myself in the mirror, pressing my palms to my flaming cheeks.

I quickly changed into simple. Neat. Still fashionable.

I ran a brush through my hair, letting a few strands frame my face.

I exhaled and unlocked the door. Time to survive whatever this evening was about.

I made my way downstairs.

“Saanvi, come here,” Maa called out warmly. I walked over and sat beside her on the couch.

“Let me introduce you to everyone,” she said, gesturing toward the gathering.

Papa came and sat on my other side, silently handing me a bottle of strawberry milk. He had already opened the cap. I gave him a small smile and took it, sipping slowly.

“That’s Nishkarsh Mehra and Preesha Mehra, Kabir’s parents,” Maa said.

I looked at them. Uncle Nishkarsh smiled easily, his posture relaxed with one arm casually resting behind his wife. Preesha aunty gave a soft smile, more reserved, quieter. I nodded back with a smile of my own.

“Preesha is an introvert,” Maa added with a light chuckle, “but a big yapper when you get close to her.”

Preesha aunty gave a bashful smile while Nishkarsh uncle nudged her lightly.

I continued sipping my drink.

“That’s Lorenzo Alaric Rosso and his wife Snigdha,” Maa said, motioning to the couple seated across.

That was the same blue eyed uncle I had seen earlier, the one who looked eerily familiar. He had this quiet charm, a warm smile that lingered as his eyes met mine. Snigdha aunty sat beside him, elegant, her posture straight. They both smiled at me. I returned the gesture politely, though I couldn't shake the feeling that I’d seen him somewhere before.

“Lorenzo is Italian, by the way,” Maa added. I nodded at her, hiding the confusion on my face.

Next came another couple.

“Veer Singh Suryawanshi and Meera Singh Suryawanshi, Abhimaan’s parents,” Papa introduced.

Oh. Royals.

I straightened up instinctively.

I hadn’t paid attention when I walked in, but now that I looked closely, I recognized Veer uncle from TV interviews and documentaries. He carried himself with the ease of a man used to authority. Meera aunty sat beside him, poised, elegant, and impossibly composed. She looked distant, not unfriendly, just... detached.

They both offered polite smiles. I returned one.

“You were asking who was with me?” Papa said, glancing at me. “It was Veer. He helped me find the recording.”

I blinked and turned toward Veer uncle. “Thank you so much, uncle,” I said politely.

He gave a small nod and smiled. “It’s okay, beta. That’s my job.”

I frowned. “Job?” I asked, confused.

“Oh, come on, Veer. Stop joking,” Papa interrupted with a laugh that felt oddly forced.

“He’s the King of Rajasthan, Saanvi,” Papa clarified. “You really think he’d have time for such things? He’s just a little into hacking and surveillance. That’s all.”

But I couldn’t help noticing the way the other uncles smirked, exchanging glances as Veer uncle just lowered his eyes and smiled quietly, almost like he was hiding something.

“Finally, he’s here,” Nishkarsh uncle said, glancing behind me.

I turned and saw another man entering. He looked younger than the others, maybe in his early forties. There was something sharp about him. The way he carried himself.

“Silas Wilson. Another family friend,” Papa said.

I nodded but couldn’t take my eyes off him. My brows pulled together in thought.

I have seen him somewhere too, but where?

Mr. Wilson looked at me.

“May I ask you something Mr. Wilson?”

He gave a small nod. “Of course.”

“Have you ever been to California?” I asked, my curiosity was too strong to suppress.

His brows lifted slightly. The room suddenly felt quieter.

“Yes,” he replied, voice deep and accent thick. “I’ve been to California a few times for business.”

“In fact, we all went together, didn’t we, Abhiraj?” Lorenzo uncle added with a smirk, enjoying something I didn’t understand.

Papa clicked his tongue in irritation.

Snigdha aunty leaned forward slightly. “But why do you ask, Saanvi?”

I looked between Mr. Wilson and uncle Lorenzo. “I just felt like I’ve seen him before,” I answered, smiling softly and shaking my head. “It’s probably nothing.”

Maa waved her hand. “Leave it,” she said.

Then Nishkarsh uncle leaned back with a smirk. “Adrika, I still can’t believe Abhiraj became a father to a daughter. A few months ago, he couldn’t stand her calling him papa.”

Papa gave him a side glare while I chuckled quietly to myself. It was true. He used to get genuinely annoyed when I called him that.

“You two never stop fighting, and Lorenzo, your Ella isn’t going anywhere. Stop looking at her like a lovesick boy. There’s a child in front of you.” Meera aunty said.

My brows pulled together. “Ella? Isn’t her name Snigdha?”

Maa smiled. “Lorenzo calls her Ella.”

I formed an O with my lips. “Why Ella?”

Maa glanced at the couple. “Once, Snigdha was reading a novel. The male lead called the heroine ‘Ella’ and she adored it. Told Lorenzo about it... so he started calling her Ella too. He wanted her to feel special.”

I smiled. That was oddly romantic.

“Looks like love at first sight. Probably a love marriage—"

“Lorenzo strangled her the first time they met.” Papa stated calmly sipping his coffee.

My jaw dropped. “What?!”

They looked disturbingly... comfortable.

I forced a smile. “Wow... so romantic,” I muttered. Everyone laughed.

But I wasn’t joking. These people were next-level bizarre, and somehow, weirdly, still in love.

Maa turned to me again. “Now Saanvi, what do you think about Kabir’s parents?”

I glanced at them, Nishkarsh uncle had an easy, warm smile, the kind that made you feel instantly welcome. Preesha aunty, on the other hand, had a reserved demeanor.

“Uncle seems like the sunshine type... and aunty is an introvert. Maybe it was an arranged marriag—”

"Preesha forced Nishkarsh to marry her by manipulating his parents." Maa dropped the bomb.

My eyes flew wide open as I stared at them. Aunty immediately dropped her gaze and pressed her lips into a thin line, avoiding eye contact.

I tilted my head slightly, "Women in love..."

Uncle chuckled at that. Without hesitation, he slid his arm around her waist and pulled her a little closer. “I love my wife,” he said simply.

I gave a small awkward nod.

I mean... Uncle, what else are you supposed to do now?

“And now, the last couple,” Maa said excitedly.

I glanced toward Meera aunty and Veer uncle again. Royals. Reserved. Dignified.

I tilted my head slightly, observing them more closely. If I use logic, there’s no way anyone would dare mess with Royals. Meera aunty looks ice-cold, poised, like someone who runs board meetings before breakfast and breaks egos after lunch. Veer uncle, though he seems more approachable, calm, like the kind of man who’d smile politely. So maybe... arranged marriage?

But what if they had a love story too? A forbidden romance between power and pride? Though wait, almost everyone else here already has some twisted love story… what is even left?

Before my imagination could spiral further.

"Saanvi."

Papa’s voice cut through my thoughts. I blinked, startled, and sat up straighter.

"Yes?" I asked.

He raised an eyebrow, expecting an answer.

I snapped out of my thoughts. “Uh... I think you,” I pointed at Veer uncle, “married her,” I looked at Meera aunty, “forcefully.”

Why the hell did I say that out loud? Because that’s literally the only type of marriage left.

“Saat crore!” Nishkarsh uncle announced grinning wide.

I frowned at Papa, confused.

“Correct,” he said.

My mouth fell open. “What the—”

Veer uncle nodded slightly while Meera aunty remained as composed as ever.

What is this room? Is this even a gathering or some reality show plot reveal? I stared at the couples. “Does no one in this group have a normal marriage?” I asked, half-laughing, half-panicking.

“If we’re being honest, sweetheart, neither did you.” Meera aunty said calmly.

I shut my mouth.

She was right.

Everyone tried to stifle their laughter, some looked away, some covered their mouths. Even Meera aunty's lips curved just a little. The irony hit me like a truck.

I used to call Maa and Papa’s marriage tragic, until I heard everyone else’s. Honestly, theirs sounded the most normal now.

“Meera once slapped Veer in front of all of us,” Lorenzo uncle said. “We thought Veer would explode, but he smiled. That’s when we knew he was cooking something in his head.”

“She hated him. And now look at them,” Snigdha aunty added, smirking.

I shook my head. This family is weird. Like emotionally complex, morally grey, can't-have-a-simple-love-story type of weird.

My eyes landed on Mr. Wilson, who was now leaning back, scrolling through his phone, entirely unaffected.

“Silas never married,” Snigdha aunty said, catching my gaze.

“He was too into his job,” Nishkarsh uncle added, clicking his tongue.

I exhaled. One thing was clear, nothing about this family was normal.

AUTHOR'S POV

✿✿✿✿✿

N E X T   D A Y

“Dad.”

“Get out, Rudra,” Abhiraj said, eyes glued to the file.

“Dad… please,” Rudra said, his voice barely holding together. “Just once. Let me see her. You’ve locked me out of the house.... I just want to see her. I just want to apologise. Really—”

Abhiraj shut the file with a sharp snap and slammed it onto the desk.

“And you think she’ll forgive you?“

Rudra stepped forward like a man begging for air.

“No. She won’t. I know that. But at least let me try. Let me see her… just once. Please,” He whispered, "I know I don’t deserve anything from her, but please, just once. Let me try. Let me look at her. Please remove the security from the mansion Dad, I’m begging you.”

Abhiraj looked up slowly, eyebrows drawn in disbelief.

“That security is especially for you, Rudra. You’re not going near her. You’ve lost the right to be near her. And I’m done watching you destroy what little peace she’s holding on to. So stop this drama, stay put in your penthouse. If you’ve got nothing else to say, go back and focus on work,” Abhiraj added curtly. “Learn something from Saanvi. Even after everything she’s been through, she still showed up at the hospital. Unlike you.”

Rudra’s hands curled into fists. He was trembling, not in anger, but in desperation.

“She’s not fine, Dad,” he said, voice cracking. “You should’ve never let her go back to work.”

“And yet she still showed up,” Abhiraj snapped. “She showed up and faced the world like an adult. Unlike you, hiding in your penthouse.”

Rudra stared at him, chest rising unevenly. The words hit too close.

“Get out, Rudra.”

Rudra rubbed his face roughly, his breath shaky as he turned around and walked out his shoulders slumped.

In the parking lot, he walked without direction, numb. His hand reached for his car, but something caught his eye, another familiar car.

His steps slowed. He stopped in front of it.

Saanvi’s car.

He moved toward it like it was a memory. His fingers brushed the handle, gentle, reverent, like he was scared it might vanish.

Inside, something lay on the backseat. A bouquet. Dried red roses.

“Rudra sir?”

He turned slowly to find the watchman behind him.

“This car… it’s been here for two months,” the man said. “Is it yours?”

Rudra shook his head. “No… it’s my wife’s.”

The man blinked. “Saanvi ma’am? She never came to take it. Even the keys were lying on the ground over there.”

Rudra’s eyes widened. “You have the keys?”

The man nodded. “I’ll get them.”

Rudra stood frozen, his chest tight, his nails digging into his palms to keep himself from falling apart.

The watchman returned, placing the keys in his palm.

“Thank you,” Rudra murmured, barely able to keep his voice steady. The man gave a small nod and walked away.

He pressed the key. The doors unlocked with a soft beep. He opened the driver’s side door and sat inside slowly, like he was stepping into her world.

The scent of her perfume still lingered faintly, faded but enough to rip something in his chest.

His fingers trembled as he reached for the steering wheel.

“You were the last one to touch this,” he whispered, his hand lingering on the leather holding onto something she had held.

His eyes flicked up to the rear view mirror, then to the backseat.

The bouquet lay there, forgotten. With shaking hands, he reached back and picked it up.

The petals were dry. Fragile. Something dropped from within.

A folded piece of paper.

Frowning, he placed the bouquet on the seat and bent down to pick it up. It was a letter, yellowed slightly at the edges. His name was written on it in her handwriting.

He opened it slowly.

Rudra's eyes darted to the first line.

To my sick fuck,

His lips parted slightly as if someone had just whispered a forbidden spell in his ear. My. His throat dried up. He sat up straighter, then slumped again, stunned.

“My?” he muttered, pressing the letter against his chest. He blinked rapidly, reading further.

Yes, my. And I swear to God, Rudra, if you faint or clutch your chest like you're about to have a heart attack just because I used that word, I will actually perform brain surgery on you without anesthesia. You’ve always been so bloody dramatic. You’re seriously the weirdest man I’ve ever met.

He let out a shaky chuckle as tears blurred his vision, streaming down without pause.

I still remember our Varanasi trip when I said your name for the first time, you froze like a damn statue in the middle of the road, and a truck almost hit you. I screamed your name, and you just stood there… staring. Idiot. You owe me your life for that one, by the way. And then again, just a few weeks ago at Noor Chowk, we were nearly in another accident, but all you said was "You hugged me." Honestly, what is wrong with your wiring? You're not just strange, you’re unhinged in the most ridiculous way.

But somewhere between all your stupidity, your stubbornness, I found myself attached to you. You’re the first person who ever tried to understand me. Sure, you don’t respect boundaries, privacy means nothing to you, you absolute menace ( fuck you asshole) but I think a part of me stopped minding it. Maybe even... needed it.

When you were away on that trip, I didn’t want to admit it, but I missed you. A little. Don’t go galloping with that inflated ego of yours. But yes, I missed your ridiculous flirting, your stupid smiles, the way you stare at me like I’m the only person in the room. And the worst, or maybe the best was when I’d look up and find your eyes already on me… like they never left. I used to hate it. Hate you for it. But not anymore. Now… I think I’ve grown used to it. Maybe even started to want it.

You never gave up, not when I pushed you away, never. You stood your ground. You took my silence, my anger, my fear, and you still stayed.

And that day... when you stood up to my family, when you looked my father in the eye and spoke for me, when you chose me, while my own family was blaming me for slapping that reddy. I didn’t say it, but something in me changed.

You’ve brought something into my life that I didn’t even know I needed, comfort. Peace. A kind of safety I’ve never known before.

So, here it is. I’m ready. No, I’m not divorcing you, you idiot.

I’m ready to try, for real. To give this marriage a chance. Not because I have to. But because I want to.

This letter is something I could never say out loud, not yet. But I wanted to put it in writing. Tomorrow, when you come back to me, I’ll give this to you. With red roses. Because if I’m your white, then you are my red, chaotic, dangerous, intense but mine.

Just don’t screw this up again, Rudra. If you do, I swear I’ll kill you myself.

Yours (unfortunately),

Your doctor

Saanvi Rudra Singhania

A guttural cry ripped through his throat, raw and aching, as he clutched the letter to his chest like it was the last piece of her he had left. His body shook, shoulders heaving with the kind of grief that hollowed a man from the inside out. His head fell back against the seat, a helpless exhale slipping past his trembling lips.

“I’m so s..sorry,” he choked. His palm rubbed over his chest, slow and desperate, trying to ease the pain that had settled like a knife between his ribs.

“What did I do…?” he gasped, his voice breaking. “God, it hurts… it hurts so much.”

He leaned forward, forehead resting on the steering wheel, grounding himself because everything inside him felt like it was collapsing. His eyes fell on the flowers. He reached out with a kind of reverence, lifting the wilted bouquet like it was sacred.

If I’m your white, then you are my red, chaotic, dangerous, intense... but mine.

He pressed them to his chest, as if their dried petals could still carry her warmth.

“I was finally going to belong to someone,” he whispered bitterly. “And I threw it away.”

Regret burned through him like acid. He wanted to go back, to storm into the past, grab himself by the collar and scream, Don’t you dare turn your back on her. Don’t you dare lose the only thing that ever felt like home.

But it was too late. His betrayal had built a wall between them.

He stared blankly ahead, tears slipping silently now, no longer loud. A man who had finally understood what it meant to lose something irreplaceable.

“Pearl…” he breathed, the name slipping from his lips like a prayer.

✿✿✿✿✿

"Vedant doing what?" Saanvi asked, disbelief coating her voice as she looked up from her monitor.

Naina didn’t lift her gaze. She remained focused on the file in front of her, “He’s getting married. To one of our old classmates.”

Saanvi blinked. “That’s... weird.”

“No,” Naina said quietly, “He said he loves her.”

Saanvi exhaled slowly, pushing back from her chair. She walked over to Naina’s desk and leaned against it, folding her arms.

“And you?”

Naina paused her pen stilling, but she didn’t look up. “What do you mean?”

“You love him. Don’t you?”

Finally, Naina met her eyes. “I’ve never hated anyone the way I hate Vedant.”

Saanvi noticed it then, the usual spark in her smile was gone. Just stillness.

“You’re talking about now,” Saanvi said softly. “But you did love him once.”

Naina sighed deeply, a bitter laugh escaping under her breath. “I really believed he was different. I thought he was just quiet, someone I needed to understand with patience. And maybe I did, but he made me believe he felt something too. Then he stepped back like it meant nothing.”

Saanvi reached out and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. “You’ll find someone better, Naina. Someone who doesn’t make love feel like a mistake. Let that coward deal with the weight of what he’s lost.”

Naina’s eyes welled up, tears blurring her vision.

Without a word, Saanvi opened her arms.

Naina’s lips trembled as she got up and fell into the embrace. Saanvi wrapped her arms around her, rubbing her back in slow, comforting circles.

“I hate him,” Naina choked. “I’ll never forgive him… not for making me feel like this.”

Saanvi said nothing. She only held her tighter.

After a moment, Naina pulled back, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

Saanvi nodded with a soft look and returned to her chair, quietly getting back to her work as Naina stepped out.

A few minutes later, Saanvi heard a knock.

“Come in,” she said, eyes still scanning through a patient’s case file.

“Busy?” came a voice.

She glanced up to find a man, likely in his early thirties, tall with an easy grace to his posture. His face was calm, gentle, almost boyish beneath the faint stubble lining his jaw. His features were balanced warm brown eyes that held a kind of quiet curiosity, and a soft mouth that curved naturally into a disarming, charming smile. The name tag on his apron caught her eye, he was a doctor too.

“You’re... Dr. Saanvi? Neurosurgeon?” he asked, eyeing her with curiosity. "I’m an eye specialist, by the way."

She looked at him flatly. “Dr. Saxena, you're an eye specialist, yet you're having trouble reading?”

He raised a brow in confusion.

She pointed to the nameplate on her desk with her full name engraved on it.

He chuckled lightly. “I'm Dr. Neil. Neil Saxena.”

“Even though I’m not an eye specialist,” she replied without looking up, flipping a page in the file, “my vision is perfectly fine.”

Neil smiled and walked forward, placing a hand on the desk and leaning slightly. “Believe me, Doctor, with that kind of attitude, no man is going to tolerate you. Because arrogance and cold behaviour like this are hardly ever craved by any man.

Still not looking up, Saanvi lifted her thumb and pointed to the side.

Neil followed the direction her finger pointed toward the door and frowned. “Sorry? I didn’t quite catch that.”

She finally met his gaze, “The next logical step after telling me what kind of woman a man would want. Exit.”

He let out a low whistle and straightened. “So you are as ruthless as they say. I saw you a couple of days ago, getting rough with a woman in the lobby. Thought you were a heartless, sweetheart.”

“It’s Dr. Saanvi. And try behaving like a professional, Dr. Neil.”

“Habit, darling—ah, Dr. Saanvi.” He corrected himself with a smile.

Saanvi exhaled and rubbed her temple. “If you don’t have important work, leave.”

Just then, Naina walked in, pausing when she saw another person in the room. “Oh! Dr. Neil. Hi!”

“Hi.” He tilted his head with a smile.

“I’m Naina Sharma, Dr. Saanvi’s secretary,” she introduced herself politely.

“Beautiful name for a beautiful woman,” Neil said with a charming smile.

Naina laughed softly.

“You look like you’ve been crying,” he said, noticing her red eyes.

She bit her lip and tried to smile.

“Smile. You look even prettier when you do,” he added.

“Well, I’ll take my leave now,” he said, giving one last glance at Saanvi, who was already back to her file.

Naina nodded as he walked out.

“He’s too cute, isn’t he?” she said, biting her lip as she watched Neil’s retreating figure.

Saanvi frowned. “Irritating.”

Naina gasped. “Ma’am!” She sat down across the desk and lowered her voice. “He’s a gentleman. Almost everyone here is already half in love with Dr. Neil. He joined while you were on leave and, in just a few days, made tons of friends. Everyone adores him. He’s sweet, soft-spoken, kind, helpful, and charming. I think he’s perfect for you.”

Saanvi gave her a blank stare. “What nonsense are you talking, Naina?”

She giggled. “Divorce Mr. Singhania, marry Dr. Neil. He’ll treat you better. He might be too soft for your personality, but he’ll adjust. Or maybe you will. You both could be a power couple!”

Naina kept rambling until her gaze landed on Saanvi’s clenched fist. The air in the room changed.

“That name,” Saanvi said coldly, “shouldn’t be mentioned again. Understood?”

Naina swallowed hard, her smile vanishing. “Understood,” she whispered, immediately standing up and returning to her work in silence.

✿✿✿✿✿

“There’s a surprise for you,” Abhiraj said as he kept his eyes on the road.

Saanvi turned to him, skeptical. “Surprise?”

He gave a slight nod, not saying more.

The car stopped, Saanvi stepped out, grabbing her bag. She followed Abhiraj toward the house. The two bickered lightheartedly as they walked toward the entrance.

“Shut up, Og—”

“You better address me with respect, stupid nurse.”

“In your dreams—”

But she stopped mid sentence as soon as they stepped inside.

Her eyes landed on someone seated in the living room. Her steps froze. Her expression changed.

Her voice dropped, stunned. “Shaurya…”

Shaurya looked up from where he sat beside Adrika. The second he saw her, a soft, wide smile spread across his face. He stood slowly.

Saanvi blinked hard, then rushed forward. She wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. He held her back.

Adrika watched them quietly with a small smile.

Saanvi pulled away slightly, “You’re actually here… How?”

“Adrika aunty called,” he said. “Told me you needed to be reminded that you’re not alone.”

Saanvi turned to Adrika, who only raised her brows with a smile. Saanvi exhaled a laugh, shaking her head.

Then she looked at Abhiraj. “Okay…this is the best surprise.”

Abhiraj chuckled, satisfied. “Knew it. By the way tomorrow’s Sunday. You and Shaurya can go hang out. Okay?”

Saanvi glanced at Shaurya, who nodded. She smiled.

______________________________________________________________________________