"I love her. I know my Priya will come back to me. My Piya-"
"She is married" Irfan's words felt like a stab in my heart. As he stated the fact, it felt like salt spilt on my wounded heart.
"You can't love a married woman. She is some other man's wo...
Before reading this chapter, read Trisha's cruelty from chapter 11 so that you guys don't misunderstand our female lead.
So, I have composed Sid's past into three parts.
Do vote and support dearauthor who is trying hard to give updates even in my busy schedule.
Highly abusive language ahead! Do not bash the author later.
•Unedited•
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“Then, I beat him a lot thinking of him as my brother,” Priya busted out laughing, as she put her thigh on mine. “Until my brother came out of his room and tapped my shoulder, I didn't know it was my cook.”
I just listened to her while she was talking about her childhood incidents. I smiled looking into those beautiful eyes. They looked lively. Always.
I like her. I love her. I want to kiss her.
Leaning in, I quickly pecked her cheeks. She stopped talking for a moment until her cheeks flushed. I didn't budge my gaze from her eyes and she suddenly kissed my cheek again.
“It equalized now,” she giggled and I chuckled, pushing her hair back. We were currently in a cafe at the farthest corner so that no one could see us. Irfan, Sarah, and Inaya were guarding us from her guards and also from people who might know me. It was our fifth date this month apart from the time we spent together at the college campus.
“Can I tell you something?” I asked her and she nodded. “Don’t wear sleeveless dresses when you are out alone. For me, please. You look extremely beautiful and everyone is staring at you.”
She bit her inner cheek and pulled me by my collar. “Is my boyfriend jealous?” she whispered in my ear.
“You are mine, Piya. Only mine to stare at,” I kissed her shoulder and pulled her to me by her waist. She collided with my chest and gasped when my palm slipped inside her dress a bit, accidentally. “Shit—I am sorry—”
I was about to pull my hand away when she gripped it on her waist making my fingers curl against her soft skin, “It's okay. I am only yours. Not just to stare but also to love and touch,” my eyes filled at her pure love. She was mine. My girl. She tilted her head, pulling her hair to one side, “Mark me. You can always mark me when we go out so that all the men can know I am only yours.”
“It's okay, Priya. I trust you—”
She put her finger on mine and tapped below her jaw, at her pulse. “Mark me.”
