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24. A Precious Souvenir

The bees were back with a vengeance, the humming buzz was unbearable. Aditi somehow made it to her room without tripping over her feet. Luckily for her, no one was awake to see her state. It would have raised suspicion, followed by uncomfortable questions that she definitely won't be able to answer.

Her fingers lifted to her forehead where she could still feel the touch of his warm lips. By now the warmth had spread her entire body, reaching her heart, soul, places where she didn't dare to venture any longer.

"Think about it, Aditi." His deep baritone had somehow assumed the texture of the velvety night. "Give me a chance. I'll make it all better."

In the dim light of the porch, she'd seen his face shining with the same intensity that she'd now seen so many times before. Lacing his fingers through her hair he pulled her closer. The only skin-to-skin contact came when his lips touched her brow. Warm, soft, insisting. Gentle yet firm. A thousand tiny ants had crawled on her skin, making her shiver. In reflex, she'd clutched the jacket even tighter, her only protection against the man who gave it to her.

Biting her lip, she entered the bathroom and stripped herself bare. For the first time in ages, she stood in front of the mirror and dared to make eye contact. Soft brown eyes, clear as honey stared at her accusingly. As expected, they were full of suspicion, full of cold uncomfortable questions that she had no answer to.

What was she doing? Why hadn't she stopped him? Just an hour ago she'd rejected his proposal, telling him categorically she was not interested. Her reasons were valid, she was convinced she had done the right thing. And yet she had done the unthinkable, letting him kiss her as if he was breathing a new life into her. At that moment, she was sure she wouldn't have objected if he had gone ahead and kissed her lips. And he knew it too. His smile afterward was proof of that.

The thought gave her jitters, a surge of unease washing over her. She had no right to play with his emotions, string him along when they had no future. Her path was set, and so her actions should reflect that. And then he deserved someone better, someone, not haunted by the ghosts of their past. Someone free and happy, not encumbered with as much baggage as hers.

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Her eyes strayed to her thigh where the bluish-red mark of the wound sat sorely against her pale skin. Like the blot on the moon, it was the only ugly thing on her pristine body. Sighing to herself she started the shower, on its coldest setting, on full blast. It always worked to numb the pain. Tonight she hoped it would also work to numb her aching heart.

*****

Darsh entered his bedroom pulling his shirt over his head. His cottage was full of the muggy scent of a late summer night, but the shirt smelt of something different. There was some puke, some patches of sweat, and of course tears. Through a plethora of emotions, he also detected her. A hint of jasmine, the warmth of clear sunshine, and a soothing cool of the moonlight. Through and through her, he couldn't get enough of it.

Bunching the shirt he rubbed it in his face, inhaling it deeply. His luck had favored him again. He now had two of her souvenirs - the locket and this shirt.

Not to mention the best part of the day, the covert kiss he'd stolen when she least expected. It was his cleverest move so far. It had told him what he needed to know and conveyed what he needed to convey. That he still had a reason to hope for, and she herself had given it to him.

Watching through the dark terrace of his first-floor bedroom, Balwant Sharma had gotten the message too. That was another brilliant coincidence that'd work in his favor. Darsh smiled. The man was using him as much as he was using the man. And the wonderful thing was that they both were aware of it.

Not only that, but that rich brat, Vivaan Raisingh was also helping him unwittingly. By now the news of his kiss must have reached him. Darsh couldn't wait to see his next move. He should act rash, brash, whichever way he saw fit to scare Aditi. Whatever Vivaan did, it'd play in Darsh's favor.

Folding the shirt carefully he tucked it at the back of his wardrobe, away from the wash pile. Five days were gone, he made a cross on his mental calendar and reheated another frozen dinner. Tomorrow was Saturday, his first weekend in Palampur. And the last of his bachelorhood if Vivaan Raisingh and Balwant Sharma played their parts.

***** *****