Someone will ache for your soul wait for them - e.russell

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I take one last glance at myself in the mirror. Baba was out with Ayush—he had planned his dinner with him the moment I mentioned I was going out with Nikhil.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, I touch up my makeup, which just refuses to cooperate today. After finally feeling satisfied with my dress and overall look, I slip into my black heels.

Right on cue, the doorbell rings—Nikhil is here. As always, he hasn't told me where we're going, only that I should dress however I want.

So, I chose a sleek black satin slip dress that hugs my figure just right, the delicate spaghetti straps resting effortlessly on my shoulders.

"You look incredible," Nikhil says, his voice light yet sincere.

I smile, warmth creeping up my cheeks. "Thank you. You don't look too bad yourself."

And he really doesn't. Dressed in a crisp black button-up with the sleeves casually rolled up to his forearms, Nikhil carries himself with an effortless ease—not overly polished, but like he naturally belongs wherever he goes.

As we step out, heading toward our mystery destination, I can't help but feel a little giddy. My fingers smooth over my dress, the satin cool against my skin, anticipation bubbling in my chest.

We reach the restaurant, it was warm and softly lit, a perfect contrast to the cool night outside. A low hum of conversations and soft jazz music fills the space, blending into a soothing background.

The waiter arrives, and after ordering we fall into easy conversation. With Nikhil, there is no need for pretense. He asks about my work, and I asked about his plan for the clinic which he wants to open. I find myself relaxing, and the weight of the day slipping away.

At some point, he leans forward, resting his arms on the table. "So, tell me—are you actually enjoying yourself, or are you mentally editing a manuscript right now?"

I laugh, shaking my head. "I'll have you know, I am fully present."

"Good," he says, taking a sip of his drink. "Because I'd hate to think I have competition against fictional characters."

I smirk. "Trust me, most of them would be terrible at dating."

"Is that what we are doing here?" He says, smirk playing along his lips.

I couldn't help but blush realizing what I just said.

"Aren't we?" I counter back.

He chuckles, his gaze lingering on me for a moment. There is something about the way he looks at me—steady, unwavering, like he's actually seeing me, not just the version people assume.

It's nice, and different...

Not in an overwhelming way, but just easy.

"So, do you always wanted to work in publishing?" Nikhil asks.

"Yes. But my love for books started when Mom got my first book on my fourteenth birthday, and since then I have been in complete awe of how books can change your life and how ardently they can make you fall in love with something so simple yet beautiful" I went on telling him about all the memories I had shared with Mom and how amazing she was.

I had shared these parts of me with Arin and it feels weird to give that part of me to someone else, it almost feels like I am washing away ounces of Arin from my life, and chest tightens at the thought of letting completely go.

Why is it so hard to let go of the past? Or certain people of your past?

Pushing Arin's thought I brought my attention back to Nikhil, who was looking at me intently and I did not want to give away that I am thinking about ex again.

"Alright." I say, twirling them stem of my wine glass between my fingers. "Since this is our third date, technically, its time for the real questions."

He raises an eyebrow, amused. "The real questions? Should I be nervous?"

I smirk. "That depends on your answers."

Nikhil chuckles and leans forward. "Hit me with your best shot."

I take a moment, pretending to think, then ask, "What's something about you that most people don't know?"

He hums, tilting his head slightly. "Most people assume I'm this put-together guy who always has things figured out, but... I actually hate making big life decisions. I overthink everything—probably more than I should."

I arch a brow. "That's surprising. You always seem like you know exactly what you're doing."

He laughs. "Trust me, it's an illusion. What about you?"

I sip my wine before answering. "Most people think I'm confident all the time, but I have my doubts. Especially when it comes to my work. No matter how much experience I have, there's always this tiny fear that one day, I'll wake up and realize I don't actually know what I'm doing."

Nikhil gives me a knowing look. "You're talking to someone who overthinks everything—I get it."

We fall into a comfortable silence for a moment before I smirk. "Okay, next question. What's your love language?"

He grins. "Physical touch and words of affirmation, I think. What about you?"

"Quality time." I answer easily. "I don't care about grand gestures or fancy gifts. If someone makes an effort to just be with me, that's what really matters."

His eyes soften slightly, and I quickly clear my throat before the moment get too heavy.

"What's your biggest fear?" I ask.

Nikhil pauses; his expression thoughtful. "Losing the people I care about."

I nod slowly, understanding that fear all too well.

"But if we're talking irrational fears," he adds with a smirk, "then birds. I hate birds."

I burst out laughing. "You're afraid of birds?"

"They're unpredictable," he says, shaking his head. "And they stare at you like they know something you don't."

I'm still laughing when he shakes his head at me in mock offense. "Alright, your turn. What's your irrational fear?"

I pretend to think. "That one day, I'll be forced to give a speech at an event and completely forget how to talk."

Nikhil chuckles. "You, at a loss of words? I highly doubt that."

I roll my eyes but grin. "Okay, fun question—if you could be any fictional character for a day, who would you be?"

"Easy," he says. "Sherlock Holmes. Solving impossible mysteries and just knowing things? Sounds like a great time."

I nod approvingly. "Solid choice."

"What about you?" he asks, tilting his head.

I smirk. "Elizabeth Bennet from Pride and Prejudice. Because let's be honest, I'd love to have a Mr. Darcy moment."

Nikhil laughs. "Noted. If I ever offend you, I'll just show up in the rain and declare my undying love."

There was a pause, an awkward one, because realization hit at both of us about the statement Nikhil just gave. His eyes flicker to mine, something unreadable in them. And for the first time tonight, I felt awkward.

It felt as if we have just stepped into something unknown, and a little too close to something we weren't supposed to.

I clear my throat, shifting in my seat. "Anyway, I think I'm full now. Should we get the bill?"

That is the best you could do. I tell myself. Way to go to make it more awkward.

Nikhil clears his throat and asks the waiter to get our bill.

"I hope you had a great time," Nikhil says as we walk toward the parking lot.

"I did—it was incredible," I reply, pulling my jacket tighter around me as the cool night air settles in.

A beat passes between us, and we both were quiet thinking about what should we say. I don't know if Nikhil meant the words he said a moment ago or was it just in the heat of the moment.

"You know it just hypothetical, what I said in there." Nikhil says. I just nod my head, I was still wrapping my head around what he said.

The valet parked our car in front of the restaurant and we drove off.

We both fell back into silence but this time it wasn't uncomfortable as much as it was a moment ago. We were back in the space where either of us felt like filling the silence with unnecessary words.

But that feeling stayed only for a fleeting moment.

Because sitting on my porch steps, head bowed, legs stretched out carelessly, was Arin.

It was easily recognisable because of the way he sluggishly lifts his head, blinking at the headlights like they're too bright, the slight sway in his movements as he tries to straighten up. His shirt is slightly wrinkled, his hair messier than usual, and even from inside the car, I can tell he's not okay.

I exhale sharply. Not this. Not tonight.

Nikhil notices him too. "That's Arin, right?"
His voice neutral, but there's a flicker of something unreadable in his tone.

I press my lips together. Yep. That's Arin." He remembered Arin from our visit to the hospital when I had hit Raghav, and also I told Nikhil about our history.

Nikhil nods but doesn't say anything as he parks the car. I unbuckle my seatbelt, already bracing myself for whatever nonsense Arin is about to pull.

The moment I step out, he looks at me, his eyes glassy but sharp in a way only Arin can manage even when wasted.

"Oh, look who finally decided to show up," he drawls, pushing himself to his feet with more effort than necessary. "Had a fun night, Saahiba?"

I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Arin, what the hell are you doing here?"

He ignores my question, his gaze flickering to Nikhil, who's standing beside me, hands tucked into his pockets.

"And you," Arin scoffs, taking a slow, unsteady step forward. "You think you're special, don't you?"

Nikhil tilts his head slightly, his expression calm but alert. "I don't think anything, actually."

Arin laughs humorlessly. "Right. Of course, you don't. Because you're perfect, aren't you? Walking in with your easy charm and your perfectly timed dates—" He stops, swaying slightly, and I step forward instinctively, worried he might actually fall.

"Arin, you need to go home," I say, keeping my voice steady. "You're drunk."

He looks at me then, and there's something raw in his expression—something that makes my stomach twist uncomfortably.

"I was waiting for you," he mutters, his voice quieter now. "And you were out having dinner with him."

I blink. "Arin—"

But before I can say anything else, he turns back to Nikhil, his posture shifting. "You don't know her like I do."

Nikhil exhales, his patience clearly being tested.

"Did she tell you about us?" Arin lets out a bitter laugh. His words slurring now, but his gaze remained on Nikhil, like he's daring him to react.

"Look, man, I don't want to know what happened between you two. But I can tell you one thing for sure you are the past, and I believe Saahiba would like to keep it way." And for the first time tonight, I feel Nikhil tense beside me.

I don't like this. I hate this.

I step between them, placing a firm hand on Arin's chest, pushing him back slightly. "Enough. Arin, go home. Sleep it off."

He looks at me again, his expression unreadable. For a second, I think he's going to say something else, but then he exhales sharply, running a hand through his already messy hair.

"Fine." He mutters. "Whatever."

He stumbles past me, and Nikhil watches in silence as he makes his way down the steps, disappearing into the night.

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding.

"That was... something," Nikhil finally says, his voice carefully neutral.

I shake my head, feeling a headache forming. "I'm sorry." I don't know what else to say.

Nikhil studies me for a moment before offering a small, understanding smile. "Not your fault."

I nod, but my mind is still stuck on Arin—on the way he looked at me, on the way his voice sounded when he said he was waiting.

Nikhil squeezes my hand gently. "Get some rest, Saahiba."

I nod, forcing a smile as I step back. "Goodnight, Nikhil."

As he drives away, I turn back to my house, my heart still racing. And even as I step inside, locking the door behind, I can't shake the feeling that tonight was just the beginning of something messy.

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