17-07-2025, 07:10 PM
He was still trying to understand the kind of love she carried.
Not because it was less.
But because it didn’t cling.
She smiled faintly to herself.
“I only look at what I’ve already got.”
And she had him. Not in name.
Not in vows. Not in permanence.
But in a way deeper than all that, because she knew Abhi’s silences.
His hesitations.
His storms.
She had held his pain, even when he didn’t know he was bleeding.
She had listened when his words didn’t form.
That was her place.
Not as a claim—but as a constant.
Her love was quiet. But it was built to endure.
If Shruti brought him joy, excitement, mischief—let her.
Because when Abhi had no one to call at midnight, he would call her.
When life twisted unexpectedly and he didn’t know who would understand—she would.
She wasn’t just the woman who kissed him last night.
She was the woman who would stand by him through every phase of his becoming.
And that… that was a kind of intimacy no one could compete with.
She turned her head, hearing the faint ding of the elevator outside. Footsteps.
Her smile returned, not as amusement this time, but as something deeper. Calmer.
She picked up the tray of glasses.
Let the story begin.
Not because it was less.
But because it didn’t cling.
She smiled faintly to herself.
“I only look at what I’ve already got.”
And she had him. Not in name.
Not in vows. Not in permanence.
But in a way deeper than all that, because she knew Abhi’s silences.
His hesitations.
His storms.
She had held his pain, even when he didn’t know he was bleeding.
She had listened when his words didn’t form.
That was her place.
Not as a claim—but as a constant.
Her love was quiet. But it was built to endure.
If Shruti brought him joy, excitement, mischief—let her.
Because when Abhi had no one to call at midnight, he would call her.
When life twisted unexpectedly and he didn’t know who would understand—she would.
She wasn’t just the woman who kissed him last night.
She was the woman who would stand by him through every phase of his becoming.
And that… that was a kind of intimacy no one could compete with.
She turned her head, hearing the faint ding of the elevator outside. Footsteps.
Her smile returned, not as amusement this time, but as something deeper. Calmer.
She picked up the tray of glasses.
Let the story begin.
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