I woke up in the dark, his stubble grazing the sensitive skin on my neck. It was six already. I turned around and looked at his face, one that I’d come to know so well in the last three weeks. He looked so sweet, so innocent. I had learnt that he was anything but; memories of last night came clouding into my mind as an involuntary blush colored my cheeks. I was suddenly glad that it was dark.
I got up carefully, so as to not wake him and pulled on his shirt. It still smells of him, I thought tugging the collar to my nose and inhaling deeply. We’d looked at each other a second time through the book shelves. I think I’d known from that moment that that we would end up where we were today.
As the enormity of the situation dawned on me, I lit a cigarette. A few puffs were usually enough to blank any emotion out. It didn’t seem to be working.
He’d wake up in a few hours, shower, shave and meet his brother at The Seasons for lunch. He was bringing his fiancé, the girl who’d managed to get him down on a knee within a mere month of meeting. He’d heard a lot about her, mum was practically raving, and I knew that he was very much looking forward to meeting her.
How would he react when he finds out that the girl who walked out of his apartment at six today morning, the one who was threatening to break his state of carefree singledom, was his bhabhi, the love of his brother’s life?
I stubbed the butt out and turned to leave.