post script.

four

04
WE WERE NOT MEANT TO BE

April

2 years ago,

"Aastha?"

"Hm?"

"Go back home," Abhishek said, voice laced with concern as he leaned in to her side of the bed. Aastha turned over, facing him, placing a finger on his lips.

"Shut the fuck up"

"Aas—

"Sone do naaa!" (Let me sleep!) she whined, "We have to get on a flight tomorrow, again," she groaned and he shook his head.

"Exactly, you're exhausted and you're going to fall sick, Aastha. Ghar chali jaa kuch din ke liye," (Go home for a few days)

"Muh band rakhne ke liye kitne paise lega," (How much money will you take to stay silent?)

"One hour equals to five kisses," he replied, grinning and she rolled her eyes, slightly pushing the man away.

"Well I can't afford that, go to sleep,"

"Aastha-

"Abhay, I swear to God, go to sleep." She gritted out, annoyed.

"You can't even sound angry, baby. You should-

"WHY ARE YOU SO HELL BENT ON SENDING ME BACK HOME?" Aastha, now completely annoyed, shouted as she sat up. Abhishek flinched, scared as he hugged one of the dozens of pillows kept on the bed, in mock defence.

"I was just saying because you seem very tired and fatigued today, nothing else," he nervously laughed. "And it's not like our schedule is over after this flight,"

"You just don't want me near," she mumbled, still angry at her husband. Abhishek softly smiled, pulling her closer as he slid his hand around her waist.

"I'm sorry, alright. If you think you're up for it, you're right," he said and she rolled her eyes.

"No, now I'm going to go home. Let me and go and book th-

Before she could continue, he pressed his lips on her, cutting her off. She wrapped her arms around his neck, playing with his hair while he caressed her cheek, his touch feathery.

"You're so beautiful," Abhishek mumbled, their breaths mingling as they parted. She laughed and he loved it.

"And you're so fucking cheesy," she giggled.

Abhishek's eyes fluttered open. He didn't move, just remained frozen in the bed, eyes scanning his surroundings for a moment. The room felt oddly familiar to the one from his memory. And for a second, Abhishek felt like he was still in the past.

He tilted his head ever so slightly, as if peeking to see whether Aastha was still in the room— she'd perhaps open the door, or emerge from the bathroom any second. But she never came. He never got up to call her either, because realisation had struck.