After I stepped out of Aliza's office, I walked to the elevator like a man possessed.
What the hell just happened?
Every step I took felt heavier than the last. Her fingers, her voice, that deadly, mocking softness — it clung to me like a fragrance I couldn't scrub off. The heat in my chest flared up the second her skin grazed mine. She wasn't just playing with me. She knew exactly what she was doing.
That cream blazer hugging her curves. Her hair pulled back with precision. And those eyes — not warm like they used to be, but cold, composed, unreadable. They didn't see me. They saw through me.
But fuck, I was drawn to her.
By the time I reached the elevator, I could barely breathe. My jaw was tight. My hands were cold. I didn't know if it was rage or regret pulsing through my veins, but it was something close to heartbreak. Again.
I exited the building, trying to pull myself together. I got into my car, gripped the steering wheel so tight my knuckles went white, and leaned my head against the seat.
"I'm going insane," I whispered.
But was it insanity? Or just… regret?
I closed my eyes. Her scent. Her touch. Her body so close, every nerve in me had lit up. It wasn't lust. Not just that. It was something worse. Something deeper. A need. A hunger that never really died.
I loved her once. Maybe I never stopped.
That laugh she gave — sharp and cold — had cut deeper than anything else. Because it reminded me of what I had done. Who I had become. And what I lost.
The woman who looked at me today was not the girl I had once kissed under the staircase after she won her first badminton match. She was a storm I helped create. And now, I was standing in its eye, helpless.
I drove to the airport in a daze. The silence in the backseat was loud. My phone buzzed once — a message from Anika, asking if I'd landed. I didn't reply.
On the flight, I kept staring out the window, but all I could see was her reflection. Her wicked smile. Her hand on my waist. The way she looked up at me, mocking, seductive, untouchable.
My heart pounded like it was trying to claw out of my chest.
I landed in Jaipur well past 8 p.m. Anika was waiting near the exit gate. When she saw me, she walked up with that soft smile — the one that had once made me feel at peace. Now, it made me ache with guilt.
She kissed me on the cheek.
I didn't kiss her back.
I smiled. Hollow.
"Long flight?" she asked.
"Yeah. Just tired."
She reached for my hand, but I moved ahead to grab the luggage.
She didn't notice. Or maybe she did, but chose silence.
We reached home, and she had already set the table. Paneer butter masala. Tandoori rotis. Dal. Jeera rice. Even chilled kheer in the silver bowls I liked.
I sat at the table and ate mechanically.
She talked about the baby, how the doctor said everything was fine. About the new curtains she'd ordered. About how she wanted to paint the nursery blue.
I nodded.
But I couldn't taste a thing. My tongue felt numb. My mind — still back in that office.
When Anika finally went to bed, I stood at the window of our bedroom, staring out at the Jaipur skyline.
My life was perfect on paper. A beautiful wife. A baby on the way. A house. A business.
But something in me was splitting open.
I didn't think Aliza was here for revenge. That wasn't the girl I knew.
But maybe I didn't know her anymore.
All I knew was this — I wasn't ready to let her go again.
Not this time.