I stand in the center of the living room, my chest heaving with each ragged breath as waves of anger crash against the shores of my mind. Everything feels like it's closing in on me, suffocating me in this vortex of frustration and rage.

Without warning, my fists clench tightly at my sides, nails digging into my palms as if seeking to draw blood. The urge to scream is overwhelming, yet I swallow it down, unwilling to let anyone else hear the turmoil raging within me.

In one swift, violent motion, I lunge forward, grabbing the nearest object within reach—a decorative vase— and hurling it against the wall with all the force I can muster. The satisfying shatter echoes through the room, momentarily drowning out the chaotic symphony playing in my head.

But it's not enough. It's never enough.

I stalk across the room, my movements erratic and uncontrolled, as I sweep books and trinkets off the shelves, their contents scattering across the floor like debris in the aftermath of a storm. The crash of breaking glass and splintering wood accompanies each destructive outburst, a twisted soundtrack to my descent into madness.

Tears blur my vision, mixing with the sweat on my brow as I continue to thrash about, unable to contain the tempest raging inside me. Every shattered picture frame, every overturned piece of furniture is a release, a fleeting moment of catharsis in a world gone mad.

Finally spent, I collapse to my knees amidst the wreckage, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I survey the devastation I've wrought. The once-cozy living room now lies in ruins, a testament to the fury that consumes me from within.

And yet, beneath the rubble and chaos, there lingers a sense of hollow emptiness, a gnawing ache that no amount of destruction can assuage. For in the wake of my rampage, I am left alone with nothing but the echoes of my own despair, trapped in a cycle of anger and regret from which there seems to be no escape.

As I kneel amidst the wreckage of my living room, tears streaming down my cheeks, a soft whimper breaks through the silence. Turning my head, I see Shiloh, my golden retriever puppy, cautiously making his way towards me, his tail tucked between his legs in concern.

Despite my turmoil, a flicker of warmth stirs within me as Shiloh approaches, his gentle eyes filled with empathy. Without hesitation, he nuzzles against me, his fur soft against my trembling form, offering a wordless solace that speaks volumes.

I wrap my arms around him, burying my face in his fur, allowing his presence to anchor me amidst the chaos. His steady breathing and the rhythmic thud of his tail against the floor serve as a soothing counterpoint to the storm still raging within me.

In his simple yet profound way, Shiloh offers me a lifeline, a reminder that even in my darkest moments, I am not alone. With his unwavering loyalty and unconditional love, he helps to mend the shattered pieces of my spirit, offering hope where there was once only despair.

I wanted to run to Atharva yet again, but this time I wanted to get over my rage on my own, as an assurance to myself that I am capable of becoming a better person.

+++

He arrived breathless, pausing before me. My gaze involuntarily trailed over his sweat-dampened neck, lingering on the snug sleeveless T-shirt that hugged his chest, hinting at the contours of his well-defined abs.

Stop it, Shiya. He's your therapist!

"Hey," his voice emerged huskily, breaking through my momentary distraction. I blinked, shaking off the fleeting thoughts that had consumed me.

"Hi," I responded, my own voice slightly breathless. Despite my internal struggle to maintain professionalism, I couldn't deny the flutter of excitement that his presence always seemed to stir within me.

I need to act my act together ASAP. 

"I must admit," he begins, settling onto his haunches to scratch Shiloh's fur, "I was surprised when you reached out of the scheduled therapy sessions."

"well, I need a friend right now and you're the closest thing to that."

He keeps his hand over his heart and looks at me dramatically, " I don't know if I should be grateful for that or not." 

I let out a soft chuckle at his theatrical response, appreciating the brief moment of levity amidst the weight of my emotions.

"Well, whether you're grateful or not, here we are," I reply with a small smile, feeling a sense of comfort in his presence, despite the lingering uncertainty.

He nods thoughtfully, his gaze meeting mine with an understanding that transcends words. "Here we are indeed," he echoes softly, before turning his attention back to Shiloh, who wags his tail contentedly under his gentle touch.

As I watch them, a sense of gratitude washes over me, grateful for this unlikely connection and the support it offers in my time of need.

"So you come here every day?" I inquire, slipping off my shoes and folding my legs over the bench.

He nods in affirmation. "Except Fridays, I run by the seashore on Fridays."

"That makes sense now," I remark, recalling the time I ran into him on the beach while I was cursing the gods.

"Yeah," he replies with a faint smile, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "I remember that day. You looked like you were ready to take on the entire ocean."

I chuckle softly, the memory of my frustration now tinged with a sense of camaraderie. "Well, it felt like the ocean owed me some answers that day."

He nods in understanding, his gaze wandering out towards the horizon as if lost in thought. After a moment of silence, he turns back to me, a gentle sincerity in his expression.

"Sometimes, it's not about finding answers," he says softly. "It's about finding peace within yourself, even when the entire world feels chaotic." His words resonate with me, and I find myself nodding in agreement. 

"How was your week?" I attempt to make small talk, wiping my sweaty palms on my shorts. His eyes follow the movement, lingering for a moment before meeting mine.

"It was good," he responds, his gaze holding a hint of something I can't quite decipher. "None of my patients came with anxiety crippling them down, so it's progress."

As he stands up and offers me his hand, "Come on, I'll show you a secret gem." 

I find myself staring at Atharva's hand for a long moment, lost in thought. It triggers memories of yesterday with Dalhyun, and I can't help but feel a wave of confusion wash over me. What is going on with me?

I am pretty sure I have feelings for Atharva but I can't shake Dalhyun away from my mind.

My emotions are a tangled mess, caught between the familiarity and comfort of Atharva's presence and the unresolved feelings I still have stuck in my heart for Dalhyun. It's as if I'm standing at a crossroads, unsure of which path to take.

At times like these is when I need Tanishka and Ethan the most. 

"Shiya?" Atharva's gentle voice pulls me back to the present, his hand waving in front of my face. I look up, meeting his gaze, and nod silently as I finally take his hand.

"Have you always lived in Mumbai?" I asked as I realised that I really don't know much about him. glancing down at our intertwined hands, I search for the ring he was wearing that night in the club. 

"I would say yes. Though I was born in Dehradun," Atharva replies, a hint of nostalgia coloring his voice.

As Atharva's voice trailed off, I couldn't help but wonder about the life he led before Mumbai. What stories lay hidden in the folds of his past, waiting to be unfolded?

"Dehradun must be beautiful," I remark, trying to draw him out of his reverie.

"It is," he replies softly, a small smile playing on his lips. "The mountains, the forests... it's like stepping into a different world altogether."

I watch as his eyes light up with memories, his words painting vivid pictures of scenic landscapes and carefree days spent amidst nature's embrace. It's a side of Atharva I've never seen before, and it intrigues me.

"I've always wanted to visit," I admit, feeling a sudden pang of longing for a place I've never been.

Atharva turns to me, his gaze intense yet gentle. "Maybe one day we will," he says, his voice filled with a quiet determination that resonates deep within me.

As Atharva leads me through the winding paths of the garden, I glance behind to see if anyone else is coming along this way, but there is no one in sight. The tangled vines and lush foliage create a natural maze, and I can't help but feel a sense of calmness building within me.

The air is thick with the sweet scent of flowers in bloom, and the sound of rustling leaves fills my ears. We walk carefully, mindful of the overgrown roots that cover across the path.

As Atharva releases my hand and steps forward to part the thick entangled vines, I watch with still breath as he reveals a face scanning machine hidden amidst the foliage. With a swift motion, he positions himself in front of it, allowing the device to scan his face.

A quick beep breaks the silence, and then the machine's display flickers to life, revealing a weathered iron gate, its hinges creaking as we push it open. 

My breath catches as I step through and take in the sight before me. The garden stretches out like a painting, alive with bright colours and textures unlike my charcoal sketches.

Tall trees tower overhead, their branches forming a canopy that filters the sunlight into patterns on the ground. Flowers of various kinds carpet this sanctuary, their petals swaying gently in the breeze.

Butterflies fly from flower to flower, their small colourful wings shimmering in the sunlight. The sound of water trickling draws my attention to a small stream winding its way through the garden, its clear waters reflecting the blue of the sky above.

Stone benches dot the garden, inviting us to sit and take in the beauty that surrounds us. Moss-covered statues stand guard among the foliage, their weathered features adding to the sense of history and timelessness.

"This is beautiful," I whisper softly as I reach out to touch the statue, feeling the coolness of the weathered stone beneath my fingertips. Awed by the tranquility of the garden surrounding us. "How do you know about these places? It's like discovering a whole new side of Mumbai."

Atharva offers a nonchalant shrug, his hands slipping into the pockets of his trackpants. "Just keep meeting me," he replies with a cryptic smile, "and you'll uncover even more hidden gems like this."

I chuckle softly at Atharva's response, sensing a hint of mystery beneath his casual demeanor. "An ulterior motive, huh?" I tease, raising an eyebrow as I playfully nudge his shoulder. "Are you trying to lure me into something?"

He meets my gaze with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, his smile widening. "Maybe," he concedes, his tone teasing. "But who said that's a bad thing? Life's too short to stick to the beaten path, don't you think?"

I'm pretty sure if he wasn't a shrink, he would've still been a motivator. Always having his way around the world. 

+++

Authors note, (VERY IMPORTANT) 

Hey beautiful people!

How's everyone coping with this summer heat? 

Personally, I feel like I'm melting! 🫠 

But hey, the monsoon season is just around the corner, and I'm eagerly anticipating those heavy rains!

But enough about the weather, let's get straight to the point.

I've got an update regarding A Million Little Things. Originally, I had planned to wrap up the book by June, but it looks like we'll be extending the journey well into the latter months of 2024. The reason for this update is that I recently realized I messed up the timeline schedule. AMLT actually takes place two years after AMLR, and between the two books, we have the story of Siddarth and Tanishka unfolding, which also intertwines with the lives of Atharva and Dalhyun.

So, I've decided that A MILLION LITTLE SECRETS, the tale of Tanishka and Siddarth, should kick off before we dive deeper into AMLT. 

After all, it's called SECRETS for a reason! 🤭

Now, this is happening because of my writing style. I must confess, it's a bit unconventional. Often, while I'm already knee-deep in one book, ideas for another start flooding my brain, and I just have to jot them down before they vanish into thin air. In fact, I began writing AMLT while I was still penning AMLR.

And for those of you worrying whether AMLT will ever reach completion, fear not!

 I'm committed to giving my characters the ending they deserve – a spectacular one at that! 😤

Speaking of characters, let's talk about Tanishka and Siddarth. The chemistry between them... oh my fucking god! And can I just say, Siddarth is my absolute favorite? 

Writing from his perspective had me on the verge of squealing with excitement. Who knew I'd be so invested in my own book characters? 🤭

Today, I'll be uploading an introduction to the book along with this update. You'll get to read the blurb, a sneak peek of a scene, and decide if you want to add it to your reading lists. Exciting, right?

As for the official update, we're looking at kicking things off after June 11th, once my semester wraps up. Wish me luck, folks! I'm definitely going to need it!

One last thing, 

"Hating you is my love language Black Rose," 

+++

And yet, amidst the pain and the scars, there remains a glimmer of hope—a belief that perhaps one day the thorns will give way to the blossoms, that the beauty of trust restored will outweigh the sting of betrayal.

For even amidst the thorns, the rose still blooms, its fragrance a testament to the resilience of the human spirit and the power of forgiveness.

So, though he may be like thorns in our lives, know that even thorns can be overcome, their sharpness dulled by the warmth of love and the healing touch of time. And perhaps, in the end, we will find that the wounds he inflict serve only to make us stronger, our hearts more resilient, and our capacity for love all the more enduring.

For even the darkest of souls can find solace in the embrace of mercy, their sins washed away like tears in the rain, leaving behind a legacy of hope amidst the darkness. And so, let the black rose serve as a reminder—a symbol of the fragility of the human spirit and the resilience of the human soul, a testament to the power of redemption in a world shrouded in shadows.

He is the black rose in my life.

-Tanishka Sehgal. 

____

"Every time you stomped your foot or cried in frustration because of me, that in my language was saying I love you. Also because I didn't know how to say those words."

+++

Every detail about her was flawless, from the way she flashed her teeth when she laughed to the slight scrunch of her nose when she was lost in thought. So innocent, so perfect.

And I wanted ruin that.

I felt an overwhelming desire to corrupt every inch of her body, especially considering the dress she wore tonight. I just wanted to tear that dress apart and take my time ruining her innocence. I wanted to show her the effect she had on me every time she was near, how she sent shivers down my spine with just a change in the tone of her voice, threatening me and cursing me with that innocent mouth of hers.

I am a criminal for her. 

-Siddarth Saathvik