She watched Vikram as he checked something on his phone and then slipped it into his jacket pocket with his usual calm demeanour. He looked like his usual self, sharp, focused, and completely in control. There was no sign of the man who had kissed her like she were the very air in his lungs. There was no trace of the man who had touched her like she was both sacred and sinful.
He now stood there like none of it had happened. Like he wasn’t about to walk out the door and take something vital with him.
“You have everything?” Mahika asked, trying to mask her haywire feelings.
He nodded. “Passport. Laptop. Power bank. I’m good.”
“Don’t forget your laptop charger.”
“I packed that too,” he said, glancing at her.
She forced a small smile. “Good.”
A quiet pause stretched between them, tinged with the burden of unspoken words.
He stepped closer and reached out to adjust the collar of her cardigan. His fingers brushed the skin just below her throat. The touch was light, but it sent a shiver through her. Then, slowly, deliberately, his fingers drifted down her arm until it paused just above her wrist. He held her hand and then let his thumb drag lightly across the back of it, lingering as if he didn’t want to let go.
Her breath faltered.
“I’ll call when I land,” he said softly.
She nodded. “Okay.”
He didn’t kiss her, didn’t pull her in a hug.
“You’ll be fine.” He stared at her with that intense look that always made her feel like he could see straight through her.
“Of course,” she forced the words out, trying to control her breath. She wasn’t going to cry. Not in front of him.
“I’ll be back before you know it.” He cleared his throat, trying to sound casual. “Just don’t redecorate the bedroom while I’m gone.”
She rolled her eyes, even as her vision blurred. Her voice trembled, like she was barely keeping it together. “Only if youpromise not to charm every investor with that smug face of yours.”
All the teasing drained from his expression. “Momo—”
From behind, Mohit’s voice rang out, “Vikram, we need to go! We’re tight on time.”
Vikram’s fingers slid away from hers reluctantly, and Mahika stepped back.
Mohit walked up to her and pulled her into a quick hug, his tone light but his eyes watching her a little too closely. “Take care, sis. I’ll keep your husband in check. Probably keep him on a short leash.”
She gave him a weak smile. “Please do. Harass him daily. He deserves it.”
“I plan to.” He winked and turned towards the car, already lifting his phone to his ear. “And hey, check in on Mom, okay? Love you.”
“I will, Mohit. Love you too.” She waved at him slowly.
Vikram paused at the car door and turned. His gaze found hers, focused, unreadable, and yet full of something she felt deep in her chest. He said nothing. Just nodded once and got in.
She stood there with her arms hanging loosely at her sides, watching until the car disappeared from view. The hum of the engine faded, and with it, something inside her shifted. The ache she had been holding down broke free, sharp and impossible to ignore. The ghost of his thumb on her hand burned long after he was gone, the pain crashing over her like a delayed wave.
Mahika walked in without a word and went straight to the bedroom. The moment the door shut, it hit her. His scent was everywhere. On the pillows. The sheets. In the very air. It clung to her like his touch. Her eyes landed on the jacket he’dtossed over the couch last night. She picked it up, pressed it to her face, and breathed in. That clean, musky scent was so unmistakably him. Her eyes burned, and she sank onto the bed.
Bungee stared at her from the corner as she still clutched Vikram’s jacket to her chest. Then, as if he knew she needed the comfort, he hopped towards her and curled into the crook of her neck, nuzzling against her.
She stroked his soft head with trembling fingers. “I’m so stupid, Bungee,” she whispered, her voice catching. “So, so stupid.”
The first tear slipped free, and then came the rest.