Unmatched

✨The EX!✨

RISHI'S POV:

The drive to Shanaya's house was, well... dreading a little.

I had to pick her up and from there we were going to go together. Not my plan. And definitely not Shanaya's.

It was Ma's brilliant idea. "It'll look nice," she said. "Like you're both getting along."
Yes, Ma. Fake harmony. My favorite flavor of disaster.

I pulled up outside her gate, checked my phone again. No message. No snarky reply to the kurta pic. Just silence.

Great.

I honked once, then decided against being that guy. I sent a text instead.

Here. Outside. Mentally preparing myself.

I leaned back against the seat and exhaled slowly.

This is just a ride.
Just a ride to a wedding function with the girl I'm supposed to fake a connection with so we can mutually destroy it.
No big deal.

Except...
She has been ignoring me I guess.

The front door creaked open, and there she was.

Shanaya.

Wearing a deep emerald green lehenga that didn't say I'm trying to impress you, but more I know I look good, don't talk to me. Her hair was half-tied, minimal jewelry, but somehow she still looked like she walked off a magazine cover.

She didn't smile.
Didn't wave.
Just walked over, heels clicking against the pavement like they were warning shots.

She opened the car door, slid in, and shut it without a word.

I cleared my throat. "Hey."

"Drive."

Okay, cool. So we're doing the silent treatment.

I adjusted the mirror unnecessarily and started driving. The silence between us was not the comfortable kind—it was the type that filled every crevice of the car with unsaid words and unresolved tension.

She stared out the window. I tapped the steering wheel.

Finally, I said, "Look—"

"Don't."

I blinked. "Don't what?"

"Don't start a conversation just because the silence is bothering you."

I gripped the steering wheel tighter.

"Well, maybe if you hadn't stormed off that night—"

"Oh, I'm sorry," she snapped, turning toward me now. "I forgot the part where you called me emotionally irrational and expected me to laugh it off."

"That's not what I said."

"It's exactly what you meant."

I exhaled slowly. "You don't know what I meant, Shanaya. You didn't stick around long enough to find out."

She looked at me then—really looked—and for a second, the fire in her eyes dimmed just a little. But only for a second.

She turned back to the window. "Just drive, Rishi."

And I did.

Neither of us spoke for the rest of the ride.

By the time we pulled into the driveway of Shanaya's cousin's house, I was questioning my life choices.

There were fairy lights draped across the lawn like a scene out of a Bollywood film. Loud dhol beats thumped in the background, followed by shrieks of laughter and the unmistakable chaos of a big fat Indian celebration.