It was almost midnight. The room was dimly lit, with only the moonlight spilling in through the open window. A soft breeze made the white curtains flutter, brushing against Khushi's cheek as she sat beside the window, staring blankly into the darkness outside.
Her fingers trembled as she clutched her phone tightly. She had already called Vivaan 100th times after coming back from the girls' outing. Her inbox was flooded with messages—more than fifty, all sent by her. Apologies. Pleas. Desperate attempts to fix what had broken between them.
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