Two lost souls, both granted a second chance. A man with instincts he can't explain, a woman with shadows she can't escape. Neither remembers the life they lost, yet fate pulls them together once more. In the heart of Mumbai, love and obsession blur...
I know it's been a while since my last update. Life got in the way, but I haven't forgotten about this story—or you. Thank you for being so patient with me. Your comments and support mean more than I can put into words. I'm back now, and I can't wait to share the next chapter with you.
The hum of machines, the rhythmic beeping of monitors, the hurried footsteps of interns, it was the language Abhimanyu Birla understood best.
But tonight, none of it calmed him.
He leaned against the wall of Mumbai General Hospital, coat still clinging to his shoulders after an emergency surgery. His mind should have been relieved, the patient survived, the team had done well.
Yet, his chest felt... unsettled.
Restless.
As if he was supposed to be somewhere else.
Neil's voice echoed in his ear from an earlier call: "Bhai, you didn't come to the festival... are you alright?"
Abhimanyu had brushed it off with a distracted, "Work."
But even now, standing in the corridor, he knew work wasn't the reason. Something inside him had stopped him from going. Something had pushed him here.
His phone buzzed.
A message blinked on his phone, an afterparty dinner hosted by the conference organizers, a networking dinner at one of Mumbai's elite venues. Normally, he would have ignored it. Such pretenses bored him, but tonight his hand lingered over the notification.
He almost dismissed it. He hated such pretenses.
Yet... his hand hesitated.
Go.
The whisper came again. Not from his mind, not from reason, but from somewhere deeper.
Something deeper, something wordless, urged him forward. Almost against his will, he found himself heading toward the venue.
He exhaled, pocketed his phone, and walked out of the hospital.
The gala was buzzing when he entered crystal chandeliers casting golden light, the air thick with perfume and laughter. He felt out of place instantly, his plain presence standing in stark contrast to the glittering crowd. But before he could retreat, his gaze collided with hers.
Maya Mehrotra stood near the balcony, a glass of wine in her hand, midnight black silk tracing her silhouette. Her eyes, sharp and untouchable, swept the room like a queen surveying her court. She did not flinch, did not soften, even when her gaze locked with his across the hall.
For a moment, time stalled. Neither looked away. Neither smiled. But something shifted, deep within, something neither could name. And then, almost too abruptly, both broke the connection. He toward the buffet, she back to the glass in her hand. Yet the pull remained.
Minutes passed before fate pushed them closer again. As Abhimanyu made his way toward the exit, Maya stepped forward at the same moment, their shoulders brushing in the narrow corridor. He froze, caught between apology and bewilderment.
"Sorry," his voice came low, hesitant. "I didn't see you."
She tilted her head, her eyes dissecting him in a way that left him strangely exposed. Her lips curved, not into a smile, but something sharper.
"You saw me," she said.
Abhimanyu blinked, startled. "What?"
"You saw me. You just didn't expect to." And with that, she brushed past, leaving him rooted in place, her perfume lingering like a question he couldn't answer.
Back in the hall, the music swelled. The host announced a waltz, inviting the guests to the floor. Abhimanyu never danced at such events; Maya never wasted her time on frivolities. Yet when a guest approached her with an eager request, she found herself stepping onto the floor. And when she turned, almost reluctantly, it was Abhimanyu standing across, caught in the tide of pairs forming.
Their eyes met again.
Something wordless passed between them a challenge, hesitation, pull. Neither spoke, but as if bound by invisible strings, they moved toward one another.
His hand hovered for a fraction before she allowed his touch, her fingers resting against his palm like a reluctant secret. The music began.
Their steps were measured at first, deliberate, cautious. Abhimanyu's touch was steady, respectful, but something inside him tightened every time her eyes flickered up to his. Maya's movements were precise, calculated, as if she refused to let him lead her completely, yet she matched him flawlessly.
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The world around them blurred. For a few minutes, it wasn't a crowded hall, but only two people circling each other in rhythm, strangers bound by something they couldn't name.
"Do you always say yes when you don't want to?" he asked suddenly, his voice low, breaking the silence between them.
Maya's eyes sharpened. "Do you always assume?"
Abhimanyu held her gaze, his lips tightening as if searching for words he didn't have. But before he could answer, the music ended.
She stepped back first, releasing his hand with an ease that didn't reach her eyes. "Don't read into it, Mr."
And then she walked away, leaving him standing amidst applause, his heart pounding with questions he couldn't silence.
Destiny, however, knew better.
For him, it was confusion. For her, denial. The dance was not the beginning, but the reminder. And the pull between them was only going to grow stronger.
