Life is cruel , I thought to myself while walking over to the mirror. I was on the verge of tears because honestly, life just isn’t fair.

As I took off the last piece of jewelry I was wearing, I felt a profound sense of release. Each piece had felt like a beautiful, gilded cage—a stunning display, yet overwhelming . The entire look radiated the aura of a newlywed bride.

"I didn't ask for this," I whispered, tears streaming down my cheeks, my eyes stinging. My cheeks were flushed from all the crying I'd done in the past hour.

Just as I was about to rise, there was a knock at the door that made me flinch; fear coursed through me as I wondered who might be on the other side. Before I could collect my thoughts, the suite door swung open with a loud thud. He stood there in an exquisite white suit, screaming wealth and sophistication.

"Leave," was all he said.

"Here’s your passport, ma’am," said the boarding agent. I grinned at her as  I took it with shaking fingers and smiled to myself. Avnika Arora — you’re finally home. My chest fluttered like it always did when something I wanted was finally close..

I walked through the airport with a lightness I hadn’t felt in years. My mind filled with small, happy plans: the smell of home food, my mother’s laugh, silly late-night talks with Riya. But the first person I thought of was him — VARTIK RATHORE. The memory of his laugh warmed me from the inside. Vartik. I slapped my forehead and grinned like an idiot.

Just as I was about to call my best friend Riya, who’s always running late, a voice came from my left: "AVNIKA ARORA!" I nearly choked on my thoughts at the sound of that familiar voice. Quickly, I pulled out my phone camera to check my appearance. I cleared my throat before turning around, and suddenly, two arms wrapped around me, nearly pulling me down with their weight. I let out a hiss.

"You idiot, get off me," I said, trying to pry his arms away.

"Come on, I missed my one and only friend who’s been GONE since forever," he said dramatically, head-butting mine.

There he was — the person who could make my heart trip without trying. VARTIK. His presence felt like warm sunlight after months of rain. He let go slowly, tilting his head so our eyes met. “You’re so tiny; people have to look down to find you,” he teased with that lazy smile that made everything feel safe.

He looked great in that light blue shirt and beige pants, as always, with those curly locks and warm brown eyes specked with hazel.

“I’m not short,” I snapped, but it came out softer than I meant. He laughed — my favorite sound.

"I’ve missed you, little Avni," he said, giving a wider grin. He lifted the heavy bag from my hand and slung it over his shoulder, clearing the way for us to head out.

"I’ve missed you too, Mr. Rathore," I replied as i remember how much I missed him .a sad smile came on my face. I am now walking alongside him. "But why are you here? Why isn’t Riya with you?" I asked seriously.

"Riya asked me to pick you up because she’s swamped with her fashion week and couldn’t make it. Plus, I wanted to see our little Avni, who seems to have grown up quite a lot," he said, grinning as he walked backward to face me.

"See? I’ve become even more beautiful and sexy—don’t fall for me!" I joked, hoping to hear something from him that my heart wished for, only to be shaken by his response a moment later.

"Don’t worry, I won’t, also I have something important to discuss with you," he said in a serious tone.

My stomach flipped. “Here? Tell me now,” I said, leaning in, trying to catch every word before it could fly away.

brushing aside his earlier remark about not falling for me while getting into his car.

"Not here," he replied as he placed my bags in the backseat. "Wait a bit; I have someone I want you to meet," he added.

He drove away from the airport, and no matter how much I asked, he kept saying, "Wait for it."

About thirty minutes later, he finally stopped the car in front of a café we used to frequent back in school.

"I miss those days," I said, feeling a wave of nostalgia wash over me.

"Don’t worry, you’ll have those moments again," he reassured me, pulling me close as we made our way into the café.

Upon entering, I noticed he was scanning the room until his eyes landed on someone, prompting me to follow his gaze—and I nearly froze.

"Radhika!" he called, waving.

We approached her, and I felt a rush of happiness seeing my beloved sister. We embraced, catching up, but a nagging feeling in the back of my mind hinted that something wasn’t quite right.

"You’ve really grown up! I didn’t realize it during our video calls, but our little Avni is drop-dead gorgeous," Radhika said, and tears welled up in my eyes because I missed her so much.

“I’ve missed you so much, bhen,” I whispered. Her voice was uneven, and I realized how much we had both changed.

We ordered vada pav and masala chai — the taste was a time machine. I bit into the bread and felt my childhood flood through me: bright, messy, safe.

As we dug in, I asked Vartik, "What did you want to tell me?" while savoring the delicious food.

Both he and Radhika shifted uncomfortably in their seats, exchanging glances. I caught their expressions and asked, "What’s wrong?"

In a hushed tone, Vartik said, "Avni, I trust you a lot—you know that, right?" I nodded, urging him to continue.

They took each other’s hands. My pulse thudded loud in my ears. “Radhika and I love each other,” he said, like telling the truth and asking for forgiveness at the same time.

The words hit me in the throat. For a moment I tasted metal. The world blurred at the edges. My breath stuttered. My fingers went cold. Radhika’s hand squeezed mine as if anchoring me.

I stood up before I meant to and moved toward the door because the room felt too small and the air too thick. Vartik grabbed my wrist. His eyes were full of need — not the flirtatious kind, but raw, painful pleading. I sank back into my seat as if gravity itself had changed.

Please, Avni," they both pleaded.

I was at a loss for words but managed to collect myself and finally spoke, my voice cracking.

“Only you can understand us,” Radhika said. Tears spilled over her lashes. “Mom and Dad will never approve. We— we need your help.”

Her words cut deeper than I expected. Images poured into my head: our parents’ tight smiles, the sharp way they corrected choices, the way family honor sat like a heavy shawl over every decision. I remembered Radhika saying she had been forced to agree to marry someone else — a match chosen for pride, not love. I remembered her quietness when she spoke about losing everything if she resisted.

My chest hurt. I thought about how I left three years ago for a foreign exchange program, how I’d stayed and fought for a scholarship, how I’d built a life away from their controlling hands. I had worked hard to make a self that was mine. And now everything I’d hoped for—especially the small, secret wish that my life would one day include Vartik—was twisting into a nightmare I hadn't prepared for.

“You knew this could happen,” I said, trying not to yell. “Why didn’t you tell Mom and Dad? Why come to me like this?”

“mom said I had no choice. She said I’d lose everything,” Radhika whispered. The words broke me a little. Vartik’s fingers trembled as he stroked her hair.

“Please, Avni,” Vartik begged. “You’re the only one who can fix this.”

They looked at me like I was the only anchor in a storm. My whole body wanted to run. But Radhika’s face crumpled and she dropped to her knees on the café floor. The sight hollowed something in me. She was a proud woman reduced to begging. How could I not feel the pull?.

Vartik blurted, “You just need to be my brother’s wife and marry him instead of Radhika. You can divorce in a year. Maa and papa will be happy.”

I looked at them , like I had seen a ghost , they make no sense ! , how could they?.

The idea of Rudra Rathore — cold, dismissive Rudra — rose like bile in my throat. I remembered every time he’d spoken to me with clipped words, every time his silence had burned. The image of being his wife made my skin crawl.

“Are you insane?” I wanted to scream. My thinking went jagged: the selfish dream of being Vartik’s, the loyalty to my sister, the life I’d built abroad, our parents’ fury — all tugging in opposite directions.

I tried to be reasonable. “They’ll be heartbroken,” I said, voice trembling. “You know how they are about pride.”

Radhika’s tears fell harder. “Please, Avni. I can’t face what they’ll do. I thought— I thought you would understand.”

"Understand what?? This??" I said, I was in rage . Alot rage , my hands were trembling from the feeling i couldn't explain.

…Vartik’s voice cracked. “If I see her marry my brother, I’ll die.” Hearing that, something inside me fractured. He sounded like a boy who’d lost his way. Vulnerability made my chest ache in a new, dangerous way.

My head swam with memories: the small private fantasy I’d nursed—me and Vartik, a silly, perfect future; the scholarship essays I’d written; the lonely nights studying and crying across oceans. Each memory felt like a small coin dropping into a metal box, making a hollow echo.

I wanted to be angry. I wanted to be noble. I wanted to throw my bag at them and walk out. My hands tightened around the strap until the leather bit my skin. But Radhika’s kneeling figure, Vartik’s broken face, the way the café hummed on as if nothing had happened — it all pushed at my chest until thinking became hard and slow.

The world narrowed. The clink of a teaspoon at a nearby table sounded like thunder. I could hear my own heartbeat — slow, a deep thud against my ribs. The chai steam curled near my face, smelling like cardamom and old afternoons, and for a moment I was six again, sitting on the balcony while my mother hummed and the world felt safe.

My breath trembled. I tasted metal on my tongue. The sunlight through the café window cut a line across the table and landed on my hands; they looked smaller than usual, as if they belonged to someone else. Time dilated. The café’s chatter became a distant tide I couldn’t reach.

Vartik’s fingers were still on Radhika’s shoulder. He stared at me with a kind of pleading that made me want to melt and run and hide ...all at once. The small private dream I’d kept for myself , of being Vartik’s, of simple happiness flickered like a candle threatened by wind.

I thought of Rudra’s cold face, the clipped way he’d spoken to me at family dinners, the sharpness in his eyes. I thought of my parents and the quiet storm of shame that would crash down on Radhika if this came out. I felt every one of my choices. the years abroad, the lonely nights, the scraped knees of growing up  press together like pages in a book being slammed shut.

Something in me gave way ... not heroic, not noble; it was a small, tired thing that wanted the crying to stop and the begging to end. I didn’t want Radhika to be broken in front of me. I didn’t want Vartik to look like he might never stand up again. That ache, softer and crueler than anger, softened the edges of my resistance.

I rose, but my legs felt like wool. My voice was a thread. “Stand up,” I said to Radhika, not because I’d decided, but because I couldn’t bear to see her there any longer.

She stood slowly, eyes bright and raw. For a breathless second, nothing moved. My mouth formed words before my head could catch up. The word left me like a small stone dropping into a deep, dark well.

“Okay.”

The sound was smaller than a whisper but it landed like a verdict. In that single syllable the café shifted. The air seemed thicker, and the light grew colder. My hand, which had been clenched on the bag strap, loosened like a knot coming undone.

For a beat that stretched into forever, the world fell away. I heard the scrape of the chair as Radhika pushed back. I felt the soft cotton of Vartik’s shirt under his fingers when he hugged her. I could smell the faint perfume on Radhika’s neck — a memory of childhood festivals and borrowed saris. My heart hammered, loud enough that I thought someone must hear it.

Regret slid across me like ice. It wasn’t instant sorrow; it was the slow, nagging knowledge of a cost I couldn’t count yet. Relief burst on their faces like sunlight. Radhika’s sobs turned into wet, relieved laughter. Vartik’s shoulders shook as he held her, and for a moment he looked like himself again .. the boy I’d loved from a distance.

And me? I tasted fear, and bitter resignation, and an odd, small grief for the girl I’d been who’d quietly hoped for a life that now felt stolen.

The “okay” I had given echoed in my ears, and each echo taught me that some choices change everything.

Outside, the city moved on. Inside me, the storm had arrived... slow, steady, and real. I had said yes. Now I had to walk into whatever that yes would bring.

Time has slipped by since that day, and I’m still pretty shaken up about what happened. As I was putting my earrings in the vanity drawer, it kept replaying in my mind.

‘Avni, come down!’ Maa yelled.

“I’m coming!” I replied, pushing the drawer shut and forcing my face into something that looked normal.

I made my way down the stairs, step by step, to find my family waiting for me.

My dad, always rushing around—Vishwas Arora, 50 and still more dedicated than anyone I know—serves as chairman of Arora Enterprises, a marketing firm.

Next to him is my mom, Mishika Arora, 47 but looks amazing for her age. She used to be one of the top models in India, the kind that really turns heads. She's passing my dad his purse and watch, which he always forgets when he's heading out. He’s on a call, reassuring someone not to worry because we’ve got time—probably Vinay uncle on the other line.

I’m sort of off to the side, and Maa looks super happy. I can't help but think about how she’ll react when she learns the whole truth.

“I still can’t believe our little Avni is back,” Papa said, ending his call and pulling me into a side hug. It was quick, but the warmth in his gesture told me he’d missed me. I’d missed him too—his annoyances, his stubborn morning tea lectures, everything.

‘Papa, I was away for a while, but we video-called every day,’ I said, managing a small smile as I felt that sense of home I had missed.

‘Phone calls just don’t cut it. Look how thin you’ve gotten!’ Maa said, pulling me closer Maa exclaimed, clutching my cheeks. 

‘You’re always so dramatic—you should’ve been an actress, not just a model,’ I teased, laughing because I don’t even think I'm that thin, and she says this practically every time I come home.

‘I’m here too, Maa! Don't forget about me!’ Radhika chimed in, hugging Maa from behind, which only made Maa even more emotional. ‘You’ll be leaving soon too,’ Maa teared up, realizing her daughters aren’t little girls anymore.

My heart almost stopped at that. It’s not Radhika who will leave—it’s me, and it made me frustrated. And the thought burned in my chest.

Before we could dig deeper into this conversation, Dad called from the doorway, ‘You all can save the tears for later! We gotta go; the Rathore family is already at the store,’ he said, hurriedly putting on his shoes. When did he even get to that point? I pushed all my worries aside.

Maa wiped her tears and urged us to hurry. She seemed excited... but that excitement would change once she knows the truth, I thought, glancing at Radhika, who was obliviously focused on her phone. What’s her deal? While I'm dealing with a whirlwind, she’s giggling about something on her phone, obviously chatting with Vartik. VARTIK! I spent countless nights crying over thinking he was with someone else. Those were tough times. Maa and Dad kept checking in on me, and Radhika kept insisting I act like everything was fine, but how am I supposed to do that? My world is about to crumble, and I’m supposed to fake happiness?

‘Let’s go,’ Dad said, swinging open the main door and stepping out. Maa followed him, and I smacked Radhika’s head, pulling her attention away from her phone. Vartik must have said something that made her smile, and immediately, I regretted thinking about him.

_______________________________________

Twenty minutes later...

Here we are, in front of the Sabyasachi store. Maa wanted to get Radhika’s lehenga from this place, which is why we picked it. I recalled how excited Maa was about this brand.

Maa and Dad were walking ahead, chatting away about who knows what, while Radhika was still glued to her phone, driving me a bit crazy.

‘You need to take this situation more seriously,’ I whispered, trying to keep it between us so Maa and Dad wouldn’t hear.

‘I know, and I am! Everything is stressing me out too; I just don’t show it,’ Radhika said, finally paying attention to me. I knew she felt the pressure and cared about me, but I couldn’t help but feel jealous and sad about how things had turned out.

We started heading to the store, both aware of how tense the situation was for the other.

With every step, I just wanted to turn around and forget this whole thing; it felt like my feet were weighed down.

In the past few days, I couldn’t shake off the feeling that I’ve always been the one to lend a hand to others, never the one getting support. No matter what, I always stood up for everyone around me, but when I needed someone, I found myself all alone.

Riya has always had my back, and lately she’s been saying I shouldn’t play the martyr. I have my own life and dreams to pursue, and she’s right about that. But then there’s my sister, who needs my help more than anything else. So how can I just step back?

Marriage—it’s a word I really can’t stand. I can’t forget who I’m supposed to marry: Mr. Cold, who used to be different, at least when we were kids. We were such good friends and even played house together. I can’t believe how silly that seems now.

We were close, and I remember he took care of me once when I had a bad fever while my parents were away on a business trip. But things changed after that. I don’t really know why, but I have a feeling it has something to do with Kavya. Since she entered the picture, Rudra has completely ignored us. He ditched our group and started hanging out with her instead.

It’s like he completely forgot we were friends. Sometimes I feel bad about it, but then I remember how he made it clear he wanted nothing to do with us anymore, and seeing him irritates me.

We finally made it into the store, looking for the Rathores. The employee pointed us upstairs, so we headed in that direction.

When we reached the first floor, there they were.

Vinay Uncle was sitting next to Preeti Aunty, both laughing and checking out the sherwani—definitely for him.

Vinay Uncle, also known as Vinay Singh Rathore, is 53 and runs Rathore Heritage Pvt. Ltd., a tech company. I don’t even know how much they earn; it'd be impossible to keep track.

Preeti Singh Rathore, who's 47, is a super kind housewife. She's really pretty and always so generous, just like me. She even jokes that I take after her.

My eyes then caught Radhika, who was with Vartik—Vartik Singh Rathore, 27, a charming and a bit clumsy music artist. You could easily call him Mr. Perfect. I remembered my old crush on him, but now I feel like I don’t even have the right to think that way anymore.

“Move,” a voice cut through the air like a blade.

I froze. My heart skipped. That voice.

“Are you deaf? Or should I ask them to build another staircase for you?”

Rudra Singh Rathore. He loomed behind me, taller than I remembered, his tone colder than ice. My fists curled at my sides as I forced myself to step away. making me want to retreat to my car and never look back.

Rudra Singh Rathore is 29, the CEO of Rathore Heritage Pvt. Ltd., dabbles in politics, and let’s just say he’s cold, ruthless, selfish—and my personal enemy.

“Hey, Avni,” a voice interrupted beside me. I reluctantly turned my gaze away from him to see Kavya Gupta, 28, Rudra's business partner—smart, pretty on the outside, Her smile was sweet, but I could see the sharpness in her eyes.

“Hey,” I muttered then I moved forward towards everyone. I heard Kavya say something to Rudra, but I decided to ignore it; I really didn’t want to get into any kind of fight right now.

Honestly, I felt uneasy. His presence was suffocating, and my hands curled into fists at my sides.

I moved over to sit with Preeti Aunty and started chatting about the lehenga and sherwani.

Every now and then, I couldn’t help but glance his way. He was just in a corner with Kavya, who was practically on his lap. It made me wonder why neither of our families said anything about that. If my sister ended up with him, it would be a disaster for her. He really disgusts me.

Suddenly, our eyes locked; he was staring right into mine—cold, brown eyes with a hint of hazel, long lashes framing them, a few strands of hair falling across his forehead. He looked worn out, almost as if he hadn’t slept in days, clearly stretched out.

Out of nowhere, Kavya placed her hand on his cheek, urging him to look at her. Ugh, I can't even comprehend how he finds her appealing.

As time passed, we reached the evening when we settled on what my sister wanted for the wedding. Since I'll be the one wearing it, my opinion carried a lot more weight in it.

I looked around, realizing I hadn't seen Rudra in the past couple of hours—he was nowhere to be found. Meanwhile, Kavya was chatting away with Vinay Uncle.

I was honestly relieved he was gone; I could finally breathe easier.

After making our decisions and taking measurements, we exited the store and were saying our goodbyes

when Radhika suggested we go out. Everyone declined because we were all exhausted. Kavya had vanished for an urgent call—who knows what that was about.

Radhika and Vartik were buzzing with excitement, so our parents told us to go ahead while they headed home.

They bid farewell, and just as we were trying to figure out where to go, Vartik chimed in, "I have an idea!" He seemed overly enthusiastic, and I felt a twinge of apprehension.

"What is it?" Radhika exclaimed with excitement, while Vartik glanced at me and quietly whispered something into her ear.

"What’s going on? If you guys are planning some sort of game, count me out," I said, crossing my arms defiantly.

"Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad," Vartik assured me, but I wasn't convinced.

Then, a car pulled up behind us—it was Rudra's. Why was he here? I felt a wave of frustration wash over me.

“Avni, what’s that?” Vartik nervously pointed behind me, and I instinctively turned around, asking where.

But when I turned back, I found no one there. “Crap,” I muttered under my breath; they had tricked me. I caught sight of them getting into Vartik's car. By the time i sprinted towards the car ,they were laughing as they sped off, leaving me stranded.

“Enjoy your day!” they laughed as they sped off. I shouted after them, but they ignored me completely.

They really left me behind. What was I supposed to do now? How was I meant to get home?

I started cursing them—what on earth was I supposed to do now?

As I attempted to call for a cab, the car door beside me swung open. I looked up from my phone to see Rudra stepping out. “Crap, he’s here too. I totally forgot,” I murmured to myself, regretting my life choices.

He wore a white silk shirt, a rich black tie hugging his neck ,sleeves rolled, black tailored pants hugging his frame. His curls were messy, falling into his eyes, and yet his gaze was razor-sharp, pinned on me and Within seconds, he was right in front of me.

I tried to ignore him and keep searching for a cab. It was nearly 8 PM, and I was both hungry and angry—well, more like hangry.

“Get in the car,” he said in a cold tone, looking straight at me with a fierce gaze.

I stayed silent, continuing to ignore him.

“I’m not going to say it again,” he snapped, moving as if he would take my phone away.

I glanced up and replied with a slightly defiant tone, “You can leave; I’m fine.” Then I returned to search for a cab, feeling utterly frustrated with both Vartik and Radhika.

He grabbed my wrist—not enough to hurt me, but firm enough to keep me from moving further.

“What the hell?” I muttered under my breath, knowing it was pointless—it felt like I was stuck here .

Should I run? Scream? Kick him? Nothing seemed rational since he was twice my size. Feeling defeated, I just fell silent.

He didn’t answer. He just led me toward his car like the world belonged to him.

“You’re a jerk,” I spat, meeting his gaze with all the fire I had left. “Has anyone ever told you that?”

He rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath, and pushed me into the seat.

The second he walked around to his side, I bolted, shoving the door open and running.

I kicked off my heels and bolted down the street like a Bollywood heroine escaping a villain. Except the “villain” was Rudra Singh Rathore in his silk beautiful shirt and fitted pants , running like his entire political career depended on catching me.

“Avnika!” Rudra barked, trying to keep his dignity while dodging a street dog. “Stop this nonsense right now!”

I turned my head, still sprinting. “Oh wow, Mr. Arrogant, you can run? I thought you only knew how to walk slowly while glaring at people!”

“You think this is funny?” Rudra growled, already out of breath but refusing to show it. “Do you know how insane you look?”

“Oh please,” I shouted back, weaving between two aunties buying vegetables. “At least I don’t look like a penguin in a tie chasing after me!”

The vendor laughed, nearly dropping his tomatoes.

“Penguin?!” Rudra’s jaw tightened as he almost tripped on a pothole. “I am not a penguin!”

“Then what are you?” I giggled mid-run. “A dinosaur? Because the anger issues definitely fit!”

Rudra lunged, almost catching my wrist, but I spun away. “You—You childish little—”

“Childish?” I snorted, hopping over a puddle. “Excuse me, Mr. Serious Face, you’re literally sprinting through the streets after me. People will think you’re my stalker!”

A kid pointed at us, laughing: “Bhaiya, didi is winning!”

Rudra’s face went red. “I don’t lose!”

“Ohhh, keep telling yourself that!” I yelled, sticking my tongue out before darting into another lane.

[By now, half the street had stopped to watch the spectacle — strict CEO Rudra Singh Rathore chasing clumsy, bold Avnika Arora, both yelling insults that sounded more like… flirting.]

Rudra finally lunged and caught me by the wrist, yanking me back with a triumphant smirk. “Got you,” he panted.

I blinked at him once… and then screamed at the top of my lungs, “HELP! KIDNAPPER! HE’S TRYING TO TAKE ME!”

The whole street froze. A pani puri wala nearly dropped his entire thela, an auto driver slammed his brakes so hard the passenger flew forward, and three aunties whipped out their dupattas like they were ready for war.

“Arre beta, leave the girl!” one aunty shouted, marching forward with the kind of energy only a retired wrestling champion could have.

Before Rudra could explain, a little kid picked up a stone and launched it at Rudra's direction. “Let her go, bad uncle!” the kid yelled.

Rudra winced. “Avni, for God’s sake—”

But I was already in full-on Oscar-winning mode, wriggling in his grip like a fish out of water. “See?! He won’t let me go! Somebody call the police!” I wailed dramatically.

Now, at least five people had their phones out, recording the scene. Someone even shouted, “Put it on Instagram reels!”

Rudra—CEO, heir of Rathore Heritage, soon-to-be in-laws’ pride—stood there, holding the giggling me , looking like the most suspicious kidnapper in city.

Finally, he bent down, gritting his teeth, and muttered so only I could hear: “When this video goes viral, I’m suing you for defamation.”

I just batted my lashes sweetly. “Relax, Rudra. Think of it as… free publicity.”

Things were getting pretty intense, so I told everyone I was just kidding. They looked at me like I’d grown another head, and some even told us to act our age.

“See, now they’re giving me a hard time because of you,” he snapped, clearly irritated and out of breath.

“Whatever,” I replied, rolling my eyes and realizing it was kind of amusing. I then walked toward the car because I knew it was pointless to stick around, plus I was really hungry.

“Let’s go, I’m starving,” I said, ignoring him. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but then he just trailed behind me, making sure I wouldn’t bail on him again.

He drove me home, and since I was hungry, I decided to order food. He suggested we eat out, but I turned him down because I didn’t want to hang out with him. He didn’t push it, and the ride back was pretty quiet.

After dropping me off, he left, and I stood in front of my house, feeling overwhelmed with thoughts about how things might fall apart. I shook it off and went inside after he drove away.

Once I had dinner, I said goodnight to my parents and headed to bed. What a crazy day! I could already feel another storm brewing after 1 week....