-• missed by an inch •-

Sara opens the door to a familiar face.

Karan smiles at her.

Her eyes drop to his feet, rise to his face again, the smile on his lips unsettles her. "Karan?"

His smile widens, morphs into a grin. "Are you planning to keep me outside the whole night? Or am I invited inside?"

She pulls the door wider. "Come in," as he steps inside, she steals a glance of her phone, sighing in disappointment when she sees it has shut down due to low battery. While Karan walks over to the couch, she plugs her phone into a charging cord, then pays attention to the unexpected guest inside her house. "What brings you here?" Her gaze darts to the wall clock above his head. "at this time of the night?"

He glances over his shoulder, chuckles sheepishly. "I know, it was kind of an impromptu decision. But if you're uncomfortable, I can leave," he makes a halfhearted effort to get up from the couch.

She waves her hand in a no. "It's fine. Please, sit."

He obeys quickly.

"What will you have? Tea? Coffee? Juice?" She offers politely, tied down by the responsibilities of a host, unwilling hospitality extended towards the guest she never even invited.

"Whatever you have, whatever's easy for you," he shrugs nonchalantly.

She nods and heads to the open kitchen, glancing from the counter to the man sitting on her couch. He appears normal. He appears friendly. And he appears out of the place.

She turns on the coffee machine, prepares two cups to serve, then rethinks her decision and adds another to the equation. Her ex-husband must be on his way with all the flares and dramatics of a mad man. On second thought, she should let him know, at least through the landline. But fuck, she can't remember his phone number.

A distinct scent invades the proximity. Snatched out of her thoughts, she looks to her right and stumbles back seeing him so close, right into her private space.

"Sorry, did I scare you?" Karan steps back, hands up in surrender. "I wanted to tell you not to add sugar to my coffee. But you looked so deep into the thoughts, you didn't listen." He adds softly, putting a considerable distance between them.

Sara tries to calm her breathing. "Yeah, you just took me by surprise. I'll keep that in mind. No sugar for you." She nods firmly, lips pressed in discomfort.

He smiles and turns to leave when his eyes fall on the extra cup she had taken out of the cabinet. "Is someone else joining us?"

"No." She answers.

He steps forward again, points to the extra cup. "You drink from two cups?"

She clutches the edge of the kitchen island, apprehensive about the lack of distance between them. "Someone's coming later."

He cocks a curious brow. "At this time?"

"You're here too, aren't you? At this time." She reminds him.

He laughs softly. "True, can't be a pot calling the kettle black."

"Wait for me in the living room. I'll be done soon."

He nods and retreats into the living room. Sara releases a shaky breath and faces the coffee machine again.

She hasn't met or talked to anyone from the Sehgal family ever since the funeral day. Neither did that cop pester her with the interrogation again.

"You don't have the resources and connections that Karan does. If he puts his mind to it, he'll make things harder for you."

She swallows harshly.

Then shakes her head, brushing off the needless thoughts occupying her head that makes no sense. There's no way Karan will find out what she did, unless Vaidehi tells him. But Vaidehi won't ever open her mouth, even out of guilt, considering she has her son to look after. And even if she does, Sara is not the one who commited that crime. It was Vaidehi. Sara only played the role of an accomplice, which cannot be proven. They used burner phones to communicate and any other physical evidence that was there against her has already been removed.

"You done?" Comes a voice from the living room.

"Almost," she picks up the two coffee cups in her hands and carries them to the living room.

He gets up to receive his, sitting once she has settled down and takes a sip of his coffee, nodding appreciatively. "It's perfect. Just the way I like it."

She forces a smile at him. "I'm glad to hear that." Taking a small sip from her own cup, she puts it down and crosses her legs, looking at him curiously. "So, what brings you here?"

"Hmm," having taken a sip, he nods, leaning in to put his cup down before he sits back relaxed. "I wanted to apologise to you."

"Me?"

"Yes," a small smile splays on his lips. "I- I suspected you for my brother's murder when it was clear you were just trying to help my family. So I'm sorry."

"You could have told me this on the phone," she mutters.

"I could have," he agrees with a nod. "But I wanted to see you."

Sara tries to hold onto her polite smile. It was getting difficult as the moments pass by, or maybe the more he speaks. "Okay, it's fine. I don't- I don't blame you. It was your brother and it's normal to react that way. No hard feelings from my end." She clarifies.

"Oh, you're such an angel." He grins, light brown eyes watching her fondly.

Sara clears her throat, glancing at the wall clock behind. Almost twenty minutes. When is that wretched man coming? What if it was really a stalker? Would he be arriving after she was already kidnapped, or worse, dead!? "If that's all," she tries to get up.

"I'm leaving to New York the day after tomorrow."

She sits back down. "Great! Business trip or family trip?"

"Business trip." He replies. "Remember Shivam Khatri?"

She purses her lips and nods thoughtfully. "Yeah, I guess?"

"He was Bhai's best friend. He came the day after the funeral. If you were there, you would have met him too. But you don't come home anymore. Unlike when Bhai was alive."

Sara licks her lower lip. "Busy."

He nods. "I understand. We're all busy. Adult life sucks."

She takes a sip of her coffee. "It sure does."

"All of them came, actually."

She stiffens. "They did?"

"Yup, stayed overnight, reminisced some fond memories of the past, including when Avani Bhabhi was alive."

She nods again, having nothing to respond with and glances at the clock again. Twenty five minutes now. Is he coming to carry her deadbody to the fucking grave!? Because at this point, one would be hardly surviving if they were in danger.

"Looks like it's someone important," he comments.

Her eyes shift to his. "Sorry?"

"You keep looking at the clock. It must be someone important." He repeats.

She sighs. "No, it's just-" the doorbell rings frantically. "It must be-"

"Oh yeah, your guest. Go on."

She puts her cup down and strides to the main door, ripping it open aggressively. He stands at the doorstep, panting roughly, alarmed eyes looking her up and down to check for any signs of injuries. "Are you fine?" His hand reaches out to cup her cheek.

She swats it away like a mosquito. "You're way too early. Did you take a short cut?"

"I hit the traffic jam. So I decided to take another route, and there was a road block because of an accident." He informs her, sounding frustrated.

"I would be dead by now if it was really a stalker." She hisses.

"Why weren't you answering my phone!?" He demands in a low voice.

"The battery died."

He rolls his eyes. "You got me worried sick. Who was it?"

She steps aside to let him see.

Yuvraaj steps in, his massive built taking up the entire entrance, almost squashing Sara to the wall. She slinks out of the way and closes the door, pushing on his back to get him walking again. He heeds on her demand.

The two men meet in the living room.

"What are you doing here?"

Karan gets up from the couch, the usual nervousness unseen in his eyes. "I can ask you the same."

"I've a reason to be here."

"I can say the same."

Yuvraaj releases a deep sigh. "Is he the one?" He asks his ex-wife.

She shrugs.

"Am I the one? For what?" Karan inquires.

"Were you following her the whole day?" Yuvraaj asks without any hesitation.

Sara clenches her jaw. She was trying to be as discreet as possible. But if Yuvraaj ever understood the language of discretion. He always had to go all in without caring about the consequences.

"Someone's following you?" Karan asks her instead.

"I think so,"

"Why didn't you contact the police?"

She eyes her ex-husband bitterly.

He clears his throat. "Good that it wasn't you. You can leave now." He steps around, opening the way for the young man to leave.

Karan lets out an exhausted breath. "I will. I just need to talk to Sara a little more."

"Okay, talk." Yuvraaj crosses his arms on the chest.

Karan blinks up at the man, shakes his head slightly and regards Sara with gentle eyes. "Remember I just said I'm going to New York day after tomorrow?"

She nods.

"Well, I was hoping you could join me."

"Me?" Sara points to herself.

Yuvraaj goes stiff.

"Yeah, Mr. Khatri is throwing a huge party to celebrate the inauguration of his new business. The invitation card says you can bring a plus one."

"Oh," Sara glances at Yuvraaj hesitantly, looks back at Karan. "I can't - I'm -"

"She's coming with me." Yuvraaj states.

Karan's brows shoot up in surprise. "You are?"

Sara nods in reply. "Yeah, I'm going with him."

"All good between you two? The last time you two were in the same room, it looked like you were about to wrestle each other to the grave." He comments.

"We've that kind of relationship." Yuvraaj remarks, ignoring the stinking glare his ex-wife throws his way. "It's endearing, isn't it, little rebel?" He looks at her with a smile.

She rolls her eyes.

"See, she's always in the role. So professional." He looks back at the young man.

Karan shoves his hands into the pockets of his trousers. "Alright then, I'll see you both in New York."

"You will." Yuvraaj replies.

"Good night," he walks past them.

Sara escorts him to the door and closes it shut, turning around to glare at her ex-husband.

"Was that mother's character from the movie Karan-Arjun inspired by you?" Yuvraaj deadpans, his eyes on his ex-wife.

"Shut up." She snaps, striding towards the balcony and stepping out. Yuvraaj follows her. The two watch Karan get into his black SUV and pull out of the building premises.

"Is it the same car?"

"No, that was a white sedan."

"Did you ever see a white sedan in their garage?"

"Why would I go into their garage?" She asks exasperatedly.

"I assumed."

"Why would you assume such a thing?"

"Maybe because you were always in their house?"

"I went there as a friend. Not a stalker." She grits out.

He snorts in amusement. "I'm not Vaidehi."

"I know. Her sight doesn't give me a headache." She scoffs and turns around to leave.

Annoyed at the remark, he seizes her elbow in a tight grip and spins her around, pinning her against the railing and trapping her between his large pair of arms. She looks right into his eyes. "What? Why are you manhandling me again?"

"Manhandling would be when I throw you over my shoulder and carry you to my bedroom." He rasps out.

"That's sexual assault."

He blinks. "No- No, it isn't."

"Instead of Agastya, you need law classes."

He inches closer, erases the distance between them, leans down until he's at her eye level. "Stop riling me up."

"Stop trying to intimidate me."

His gaze drops to her lips. He swallows.

"Don't," she warns.

"Fuck you," he snarls, pulling away from her. "In your dreams." He pockets his hands, looking past the city lights at the dark sky stretching to the infinity.

Sara rolls her lower lip in to hold back a smirk. "I'll get you a cup of coffee."

Yuvraaj quickly undoes the collar button of his shirt, flapping the fabric to make it more breathable. He shouldn't have come here. But his head shot circuited the moment it registered she's in danger. He wasn't even thinking straight until he saw her completely safe and sound.

Sara returns to the balcony a few minutes later. He takes the cup she offers him and stands five feet apart from the woman, taking a nonchalant sip of the coffee, freezing when he realises it's exactly the way he likes it. His eyes drift back to her in surprise.

Sensing his gaze on her, she looks at him and raises her brows. "What?"

He clenches the cup in his hand and forces himself to shake his head. "Nothing."

She looks back ahead and resumes drinking her coffee.

Yuvraaj trains his eyes to stare at the sky instead of her.

Once they finish the coffee, she takes the cup from him and steps inside the house. He follows right after her.

"I was thinking -" as she turns, her face slams into his chest. To make sure she doesn't fall, his arm wraps around her waist, steadying her on her feet.

When their eyes meet, he releases her and she teeters back immediately. Whipping around, she heads inside the open kitchen. He walks after her slowly, making sure there's enough distance between them. She rounds the kitchen island and starts washing the cup.

"I was thinking of submitting the registration number to Rudra." She rinses off the water and hands the cup to him. He dries it using a cloth. "But there's a chance it's fake."

"It will be." He replies, putting the cup upside down on the counter.

Closing the tap, she places her hands on the counter and takes a deep breath. "It really wasn't one of your men?"

"No, it wasn't someone I hired." He grunts out. "I'll talk to the CEO of NYX securities to provide you with one of her premium bodyguards to ensure your safety -"

"I don't need it." She leaves the kitchen.

"You do." He follows her to the living room.

She turns around to glare at him. "I don't need your help!"

"You need security." He points out.

"I can protect myself."

"Not against an unknown threat." He argues.

"I'll worry for myself."

"Sure, do it. Just let me do what I'm doing. Look the other way, pretend there's no bodyguard with you."

"God, Yuvraaj! How many times should I tell you not to meddle in my affairs!? I'll take care of myself! You don't need to!"

"But I can't help it!"

"Help what?"

"Worry for you!" He bellows, breathing roughly, his chest rising and sinking frantically.

Sara startles. But she doesn't get to react when she notices a red beam flickering between his neck and shoulders. Her eyes grow wide in terror. "Yuvraaj!" She pushes him out of the way and the two fall to the floor just as a bullet pierces through the window and embeds itself into the wall opposite.

Realising the danger, he wraps his arm around her waist and switches their positions, bringing her beneath him. She clutches his collar, yanking him down, so his head remains buried in the crook of her neck. "Don't move, please," she begs, keeping him close tightly.

"I'm fine," he tries to pull away so he can check for the shooter but she holds him to herself. "Sara, I'm fine." He taps her wrist. When she doesn't let go, he gives up and reaches for his phone in the pocket, pressing one for the emergency contact.

"Yes, boss."

"I was almost shot by a sniper."

"What!?" Zoya exclaims in shock. "Where are you?"

"At Sara's place."

"I'll be there in fifteen. Please stay on the ground. Are the doors locked?"

He looks down at Sara in question. She nods.

"Yes, they are."

"Don't open them until I arrive." She hangs up.

He puts the phone on the coffee table and tries getting up. She resists. "Sara, let me up."

"He might be still there!" She snaps.

"Exactly! So let me check!" He growls.

"No. Zoya said not to move until she arrives." She doesn't let go of him.

He looks down at her, distracted by the soft strands nestled between her pillowy lips. The tips of his fingers gently brush them away, her lips part in response. "Let me go or I'll kiss you."

She pushes him away, he falls backwards on the floor next to her. "Go, die for all I care." She hears him laugh.

Yuvraaj gets up and squats to his knees, sliding past the sofa chair before he springs back on his feet and presses his back to the wall next to the window. Sara pokes her head out from behind the coffee table. "Put your head down!" He instructs furiously. She scoffs and lies back down. Always the man of double standards.

Yuvraaj peeks outside, at the buildings opposite theirs, and the long trees fencing the main road, but finds no one. His phone rings again. He fishes it out. "The cops might be there before me. Open the door for them." Zoya informs him.

"Alright," he hangs up.

Shortly after, the doorbell rings.

Sara sits up, nodding when he tells her to stay quiet with a gesture of his hand, watching as he carefully walks up to the door and looks through the peephole.

Seeing the flash of khaki coloured uniforms outside, Yuvraaj unlocks the door.

Arjun Rathod stands in front of him.