Page 52 of The Promise of a Traitor

“Wow,” she said, stepping up to the large windows that dominated one entire wall and looked out on the skyline of Mumbai.

Advik dropped his bag on a chair and watched her. She looked beautiful, like a breath of fresh air in the middle of stifling corporate brick walls. But then, Aastha had always looked beautiful to him, even when she was doing her hissing, swamp monster impression.

“Was there something you needed?” he asked, quietly.

“Can’t I come see my fiancé for no reason?” she asked, turning to face him, her eyes shadowed, her smile forcibly bright.

Advik studied her for a long moment before holding his arms out. Aastha ran into them without a second’s hesitation, holding him tight, her face pressed into his chest. He nuzzled his cheek against the softness of her hair, shutting his eyes and soaking in having her back in his arms again.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, after a few moments.

Aastha exhaled hard, pulling back enough to look up at him. “I’m worried you’ll hate me.”

“I already hate you remember,” he said, brushing some of her hair back from her face. “There’s nothing left to lose.”

She smiled. “I do remember you also saying you love me.”

“Like I said,” he smiled gently, “nothing left to lose. We’ve run the entire gamut of emotion already.”

“I can’t marry you Advik.” Her lips trembled as she struggled to control her emotions. “I’m sorry but I can’t.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Aastha

Her heart hammered in her chest, her throat closing up from all the words she couldn’t say. Advik didn’t say a word. He just watched her.

“My parents see you as a meal ticket, a lifeline out of their debts and money problems. I won’t do that to you.” Her throat worked as she tried to stay calm through this conversation. “You need to call this off. I’ve tried but no one is listening on my end.”

Advik walked over to the little refrigerator in the corner of his office and pulled out a chilled bottle of water. He poured Aastha a glass and held it out to her.

“How much do they need?”

“No!” she said fiercely. “Not one rupee.”

“Why not?” Advik studied her, his gaze intent on trying to see past the mask she was struggling to keep in place.

“Because…” She took a deep breath, swallowing her pride and allowing him to see what this conversation cost her. “This is my problem. They, their problems, are my problems. Don’t make them yours.”

“But you are mine.”

“Your problem?” she laughed, a painfully watery sound. “No, I’m not. It’s why I left the last time as well. I refuse to be your problem, Adi.”

He continued to watch her with that steady, intent gaze and then he said, “You’re not leaving me, Aastha. Never again.”

“Adi-“

He cupped her face, palms gently sliding over her cheeks, his lips touching hers, silencing her. “You’re mine,” he whispered against her mouth, “and I’m yours.”

Aastha shut her eyes, tears welling behind them. “You don’t understand how messy it all is.”

“We’ll figure it out together,” he murmured. “Allow me in, Aastha. Let me help.”

The first tear slipped free, and he bent his head, catching it with his lips, as though he could kiss her pain away.

When his lips found hers again, it was gentle, sweet, almost sacred. So many things left unsaid, and yet somehow, in the press of his mouth against hers, the most important ones were reaffirmed.

A soft moan escaped her when the kiss deepened. The tenderness fractured leaving only shards of need behind.