Nandini's POV
Three days.
That's how long I stayed at my mom's place.
And guess what?
No calls.
No texts.
No "hey wife, how's it going?"
I was not hurt.
I was just... disappointed. Dramatically. With background music and everything.
So when Mira Amma called me saying, "Siddharth is coming to pick you up," I was ready with my fake smile and silent treatment.
Cue the villain wife music.
I sat on the porch, wearing my favorite kurti—just to remind him of what he missed.
Then, I saw the black car stop.
And out came my very own marble statue with sunglasses.
Mr. I-Feel-Nothing.
Siddharth's POV
Three days without her.
The house felt like a hotel lobby.
Cold. Silent. Smelled like disinfectant.
I told myself I liked the peace.
Until I found myself staring at her empty side of the bed. Every night. Like a loser.
When I reached her house, she was sitting outside—cute, smug, glowing.
My brain said: Be cool.
My heart said: Grab her and never let her leave again.
So I said:
"You ready?"
She raised a brow. "No hello?"
I shrugged. "You were gone for three days, not three decades."
She gave me a tight smile and stood. "Right. I forgot. Mr. Ice Cube doesn't miss people."
Ouch.
I opened the car door for her anyway. Gentleman mode: activated.
Nandini's POV
We sat in silence for ten minutes before I decided to poke the beast.
"So... did you miss me?"
He kept his eyes on the road. "The house was quieter."
Liar.
"I had biryani. Mom made it. Your favorite."
He blinked.
"Also brought some back. But maybe you don't want it since you didn't miss me."
Now he looked at me. "You brought biryani?"
HA. Got him.
I smirked. "So you do care."
"I care about biryani," he said, straight-faced.
Rude.
So I leaned closer and whispered, "Too bad I gave it to the driver uncle just now."
His jaw dropped slightly. "You didn't."
I shrugged innocently.
He groaned. "You're evil."
I beamed. "And you missed me."
Siddharth's POV
Fine.
I missed her.
Her humming. Her clumsy steps. Her ranting about TV serials.
Her smell on my pillow.
But I wasn't going to say it.
Not yet.
So instead, when we reached home, I helped her out of the car, pulled her close, and whispered:1
"Next time you leave for three days... I'm coming with you."
She blinked.
And just before I let her go, I added:
"Also, you owe me biryani and kisses."
She gasped.
I walked away—finally winning one round.
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