The next day,I got up early and headed toward Jiya’s house.
The morning air was cool, carrying the faint scent of the ocean that always drifted over the village.
I reached her house, got out of the car, and walked inside, immediately greeted by the familiar sounds of the morning routine.
Geeta was in the kitchen with Lucas and Emma, who were both sitting at the table, eating their breakfast.
Lucas looked up first and grinned.“Cole!” he said excitedly.
I smiled and walked over, ruffling his hair before leaning down to kiss the top of Emma’s head. She giggled softly and grabbed my finger with her tiny hand.
After giving the children hugs and kisses, I bent down to pet Oreo, who wagged his tail enthusiastically at my feet.
“Morning,Bhaiya,” Geeta said with a small smile.
“Morning,” I replied, my gaze already drifting toward the staircase.
I walked upstairs toward Jiya’s room, my heartbeat picking up slightly with each step.
When I reached the door, I knocked gently.
No answer.
But I could hear soft music playing inside.
I hesitated for a moment before slowly turning the handle and stepping in.
Jiya stood next to the chest of drawers, her back toward me.
She had just come out of the shower and was wrapped in a soft yellow towel that hugged the curves of her body. Her damp hair hung loosely over her shoulders, droplets of water glistening along her skin as she leaned slightly forward to look inside a drawer.
My heart began to pound harder in my chest as shivers of pleasure and a growing need for her spread through my body.
I stood there, watching her.
It felt almost unreal that this woman—beautiful, stubborn, complicated—was standing only a few steps away from me.
Then I took a step closer.
The floor creaked faintly beneath my foot.
She turned around.
I walked directly in front of her.
Our eyes met.
Everything inside me went completely still.
Her breathing quickened, and I could see the subtle rise and fall of her chest. I could not look away from her.
My skin tightened with the effort of holding myself back. My hands ached with the sudden, overwhelming urge to reach for her… to touch her… to pull her closer.
I wet my lips.
“I knocked,” I said quietly. “But you didn’t answer.”
“Sorry,” she said softly, her voice husky and breathless. “I didn’t hear you.” Her eyes flickered briefly toward the door before returning to mine. “Did you want something?”
