Shubman hadn’t left Tara’s side all night.

After she had begged him to stay, he pulled the chair closer to her bed and sat down, his watchful eyes never straying from her as she drifted off.

Tara had fallen asleep quickly, her body giving in to the exhaustion, but Shubman couldn’t close his own eyes.

Every time she stirred or murmured something in her sleep, he straightened, his heart twisting at the vulnerability etched across her features.

She looked so fragile in the soft light of the room, her tear-streaked face a stark reminder of everything she’d been through.

He leaned back in the chair, his gaze never leaving her. How could someone break her like this? he thought bitterly, his hands curling into fists at the memory of Matt.

₊‧.°.⋆✮⋆.°.‧₊

When the sunlight began creeping through the curtains, Shubman noticed Tara stirring. Her lashes fluttered, and her breathing shifted, signaling that she was slowly waking up.

“Tara,” he said softly, leaning forward slightly in his chair, his voice warm but gentle.

Her eyes opened, blinking against the soft light. She turned her head toward him, her expression groggy but calm.

“You’re still here,” she murmured, her voice raspy and tired.

“Of course I am,” Shubman replied, a small smile tugging at his lips. “What kind of knight in shining armor would I be if I bailed on you?”

Tara huffed out a faint laugh, rolling her eyes. “You’re no knight in shining armor, Gill. More like an overly persistent babysitter.”

Shubman grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Hey, persistent babysitters are underrated. Plus, I think I deserve some credit for staying up all night. Do you know how uncomfortable this chair is?”

Tara’s lips twitched, almost forming a smile. “You could’ve gone back to your room, you know. I didn’t force you to stay.”

“True,” Shubman said with a mock-serious nod. “But then who would’ve made sure you didn’t run off to start plotting world domination at 3 a.m.?”

Tara let out a soft laugh, her first genuine one in what felt like forever. “World domination? Really?”

“You’re underestimating your potential, Arora,” he teased, his tone light and playful. “I’ve seen the way you take charge. You’d be a terrifying ruler.”

Tara shook her head, the faintest hint of color rising to her cheeks. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“And yet, here I am,” he replied, his smirk widening. “Still ridiculous, still here.”

She looked at him then, her expression softening. There was something about his ability to make her laugh, even after everything, that made her feel... lighter.

Like maybe the weight she’d been carrying wasn’t quite as crushing when he was around.

“Thanks,” she said quietly, her voice losing some of its rasp.

“For what?” he asked, tilting his head.

“For... this,” she replied, gesturing vaguely between them. “For not letting me wallow. For making me laugh, even when I didn’t want to.”

Shubman’s grin softened into something gentler. “That’s what friends are for, right? Besides, you’re way too cool to be a sad, brooding mess. It doesn’t suit you.”

Tara raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching. “Too cool?”

“Obviously,” he said with a shrug, his tone teasing but sincere. “You’re, like, the coolest person I know. And trust me, I’ve met some pretty cool people.”

“Flattery isn’t going to get you anywhere,” she replied, but her voice held a hint of warmth.

“Who said I was trying to get anywhere?” Shubman shot back, leaning forward with a playful glint in his eye. “I’m just stating facts. You’re cool. Own it.”

Tara shook her head again, but the smile on her face lingered this time. For the first time in days, she felt like herself—like she could breathe without the crushing weight of heartbreak.

After a beat, Shubman stood, stretching his arms above his head. “Alright, I’m calling it. You need food.”

Tara blinked, her brows furrowing. “I’m fine, really—”

“Nope, not negotiable,” he interrupted, pointing at her with a mock stern expression. “You didn’t eat last night, and I refuse to let you starve on my watch. Stay put—I’ll go grab something and be back in five.”

Tara opened her mouth to argue but stopped, realizing it was pointless. Instead, she sighed and leaned back against the pillows. “Fine. But if you bring me anything weird, I’m blaming you.”

“Noted,” Shubman said with a grin, walking toward the door. He paused in the doorway, glancing over his shoulder. “Don’t go plotting world domination while I’m gone, okay?”

Tara rolled her eyes, but her faint smile lingered even after the door clicked shut behind him.

₊‧.°.⋆✮⋆.°.‧₊

The room felt impossibly empty the moment Shubman left. Tara leaned back against the headboard, her gaze drifting to the warm sunlight spilling through the curtains. The silence was deafening, pressing against her as her thoughts spiraled—first toward the memories she desperately wanted to escape.

Matt.

The man she had believed in, the one who had been her home, her safe place. She had poured her heart and soul into them, fighting for their love even when the cracks began to show. And he had shattered it all.

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the memories to fade. She was tired of replaying them, tired of letting the pain consume her. She had cried enough over Matt. Too much, she thought bitterly.

But as her mind tried to cling to the ache of the past, another image surfaced.

Shubman.

She could still feel the warmth of his presence, the way he had stayed with her all night, quietly reassuring her with his steady calm. His voice had been gentle yet firm, pulling her out of the suffocating spiral of her emotions.

And his eyes... they hadn’t looked at her with pity, but with something deeper—something that made her feel like she mattered, even when she didn’t believe it herself.

Her chest tightened, but this time, it wasn’t the weight of heartbreak. It was something softer, something that made her throat catch and her pulse quicken.

No, she told herself firmly, shaking her head. It’s not what you think.

She was just grateful, that’s all. Grateful that Shubman had been there for her when she needed someone most. Grateful for his quiet strength, his patience, his ability to make her feel seen.

But as much as she tried to convince herself, she couldn’t stop thinking about him. The way his small smiles warmed her from the inside out. The way his voice had softened when he spoke to her, as if she was the only person in the world who mattered.

Her fingers tightened on the blanket, her heart fluttering faintly.

Stop it, Tara, she scolded herself. You’re just vulnerable right now. That’s all this is.

And yet, her mind kept circling back to him. To the way his presence had made her feel a little less broken, a little less alone.

What would it be like, she wondered, to lean on someone like him? To trust him, even with the cracks in her heart?

She swallowed hard, pushing the thought away. Not now, she told herself. Not ever.

But no matter how hard she tried, the image of Shubman stayed with her, quiet and steady.

₊‧.°.⋆✮⋆.°.‧₊

The sound of a soft knock on the door pulled Tara from her thoughts. She didn’t need to ask who it was.

“Come in, Gill,” she called out, her voice still laced with weariness.

The door creaked open, and there he was, balancing a tray like it was the most natural thing in the world. Shubman’s gaze darted to her, taking in her slouched form propped against the headboard. He gave her a small, knowing smile.

“Morning,” he said simply, stepping in and closing the door with his foot.

“You’re becoming predictable,” Tara quipped, a faint smirk ghosting her lips. “Second day in a row with breakfast?”

“Somebody has to make sure you eat,” he shot back, setting the tray on the small table beside her bed. “And you’re predictable too—skipping meals and brooding.”

“Touché,” she muttered, her lips twitching in reluctant amusement.

On the tray were two golden slices of toast, a bowl of neatly diced fruits, and her usual chai, the steam curling in lazy spirals. She couldn’t help but marvel at the attention to detail.

“You didn’t have to do this,” she said softly, though the gratefulness in her tone betrayed her words.

He glanced at her, his eyes steady. “Yeah, I did. You’d probably survive off coffee and regret if I didn’t.”

Tara snorted, shaking her head as he handed her the plate. “And you’d probably survive off smug remarks and cricket stats if I didn’t remind you to tone it down.”

Shubman settled into the chair he’d dragged beside her bed, stretching his long legs in front of him. “I think we balance each other out.”

She paused, her fingers lightly brushing the rim of the chai cup as she looked at him. His words hung in the air, unspoken truths layered beneath the casual banter.

“Maybe,” she murmured, taking a small sip.

Shubman leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he studied her. “Feeling better today?”

Tara hesitated. The easy answer was “yes,” but that wasn’t the truth. “Trying,” she said instead, her voice quieter now.

“That’s good enough,” he replied, his gaze steady but warm.

She took a bite of toast, suddenly aware of how comforting it felt to have him here—not pushing, not demanding, just…being there.

“Thanks, Gill,” she said after a moment, her tone gentler now.

He smiled, leaning back in his chair. “What are friends for?”

₊‧.°.⋆✮⋆.°.‧₊

For a few moments, the two of them sat in silence, the soft clink of her fork the only sound in the room.

Tara focused on her plate, the warmth of the tea soothing her throat, while the light crunch of toast grounded her. She almost felt normal. Almost.

“You don’t have to babysit me, you know,” she said after a while, her voice steady but lacking its usual spark.

Shubman leaned back in his chair, the corner of his mouth lifting in that infuriatingly smug grin. “Babysitting? Please. I’m supervising. A completely respectable role.”

Her lips twitched, but she kept her expression neutral. “Supervising what, exactly?”

“You,” he said simply, his tone laced with amusement. “Making sure you eat, drink, and don’t combust from overthinking. It’s a full-time job, honestly.”

Tara rolled her eyes, but the smallest laugh slipped out. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet,” he said, leaning forward slightly, his gaze steady on hers, “you haven’t kicked me out yet.”

She tried to ignore the way his words, his voice, lingered in the air longer than they should have. “That’s because I’m too tired to argue,” she muttered, focusing intently on her toast.

Shubman’s grin widened, clearly enjoying himself. “Sure, let’s go with that.”

When she glanced up, she caught the way he was watching her, his expression softer now, like he wasn’t just teasing anymore. A faint warmth crept up her neck, and before she could stop herself, she blurted, “Stop staring.”

“I’m not staring,” he said smoothly, though his eyes didn’t leave hers. “I’m observing.”

“That’s the same thing,” she shot back, her cheeks heating even more.

He shrugged, utterly unbothered. “Maybe. But I was just thinking... you look better when you smile. It’s nice to see it again.”

Her breath caught for half a second, and she quickly busied herself with her tea to cover the blush spreading across her face. “Don’t get used to it.”

“Too late,” he said with a chuckle, leaning back as if he’d just won something.

She shook her head, but her lips betrayed her with the faintest curve of a smile. For a moment, the weight pressing down on her felt a little lighter.

₊‧.°.⋆✮⋆.°.‧₊

After breakfast, Shubman stood, brushing crumbs off his shirt before extending his hand to her. “Come on,” he said softly.

Tara glanced at him, her brow furrowing. “Where?” she asked, her voice quieter than usual, still carrying the weight of the night before.

“Downstairs,” Shubman replied gently. “The guys are in the lounge. It’ll be good for you to be around them.”

Tara hesitated, her gaze dropping to her lap. “I don’t know…” She gestured vaguely to her oversized hoodie and leggings, her disheveled hair pulled into a messy bun. “I’m not exactly presentable for... whatever this is.”

Shubman crouched slightly, meeting her eyes. “No one cares what you look like, Tara. They care about you. But if you need to change and feel a little more yourself, I’ll wait.”

She blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. “You don’t have to wait, Shubman. I’ll be fine.”

He shook his head, his expression firm but kind. “I’m not leaving without you.”

The words hung in the air, simple but steady, and for a moment, she didn’t know how to respond. Finally, she nodded, standing slowly. “Give me a few minutes,” she murmured, slipping past him toward her room.

As she closed the door behind her, Tara leaned against it, exhaling deeply. The mirror across the room caught her eye, and she walked over, staring at her reflection.

Her face looked pale, her eyes slightly puffy from the night before. She reached for a fresh outfit—a soft sweater and jeans—something simple but less like she’d spent the night crying.

When she emerged a short while later, her hair brushed and her face freshened, Shubman was still waiting by the door. His gaze flicked over her briefly, but he didn’t say anything, just gave a small, approving nod.

“You didn’t have to wait,” she said, adjusting her sweater self-consciously.

“I told you,” he replied with a small smile, opening the door for her. “I’m not leaving without you.”

Tara followed him down the hallway, her steps hesitant but steady. “You’re really stubborn, you know that?”

“Part of my charm,” he said lightly, glancing over his shoulder. Then, more softly, “You ready?”

She nodded slowly, her chest still heavy but her heart feeling just a little less fragile. “Ready.”

₊‧.°.⋆✮⋆.°.‧₊

The lounge was alive with chatter and laughter when Tara and Shubman walked in. The energy in the room was infectious, even if Tara wasn’t quite ready to admit it.

“Tara!” Ishan called out, waving both arms dramatically as if she’d been missing for months. “Look who finally decided to grace us with her presence!”

Tara raised an eyebrow, but a faint smile tugged at her lips. “Don’t act like you’ve been pining for me.”

“Oh, but I have!” Ishan said, clutching his chest like a lovesick hero. “My days have been dark without your sarcasm to light them.”

“She’s barely here, and I already want her to leave,” Hardik teased, grinning as he reached over to ruffle her hair. “But seriously, good to see you up and about.”

Tara batted his hand away, fixing her hair. “Do you always have to be this annoying?”

“Annoying is his middle name,” Shubman chimed in as he dropped onto a couch nearby, looking far too pleased with himself.

“Don’t think you’re exempt from that title,” Tara shot back, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Touché,” Shubman replied with a smirk, throwing his arm over the back of the couch like he owned the place.

“Alright, alright,” Virat interrupted, raising his coffee cup in a mock toast. “Let’s give the lady a moment to breathe. Tara, how are you feeling?”

Tara hesitated, glancing around at the sea of familiar faces. The warmth in their gazes felt genuine, and for the first time, she didn’t feel the need to deflect. “Better,” she admitted, her voice steady.

“Good,” Virat said, his tone reassuring. “But just remember, you’ve got us. We’re a family, and that includes you now.”

“Exactly!” Rohit chimed in, leaning forward with a grin. “And being family means you’re stuck with all of us, including our quirks.” He gestured toward Ishan, who was making faces at Shubman. “Especially this guy.”

“I am a delight,” Ishan protested, pretending to look offended.

“You’re an overgrown toddler,” Hardik corrected, tossing a pillow at him.

“And you’re a grumpy old man,” Ishan retorted, ducking the pillow and throwing one back.

The room erupted into laughter as the pillow hit Hardik square in the chest. Tara found herself laughing along, the sound surprising even her.

“See?” Shubman said, leaning toward her slightly. “Told you it’d help.”

She shook her head but couldn’t suppress her smile. “You’re impossible.”

“Don’t forget charming,” he added with a wink.

“Oh, please,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. But the warmth spreading through her chest told her she didn’t entirely disagree.

“So, Tara,” Ishan called out again, now lounging dramatically across the arm of a chair. “What’s your most embarrassing story about Shubman? We need dirt.”

Shubman groaned. “Don’t encourage her, Ishan.”

“Oh, I have plenty,” Tara said, smirking at Shubman. “But you’ll have to earn them.”

“Game night,” Rohit declared suddenly, clapping his hands together. “Loser spills secrets. Tara’s on my team.”

“You’re assuming I’m bad at games,” Tara countered, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t worry,” Shubman said, his grin widening. “I’ll carry us to victory.”

“We’re doomed,” Tara muttered, but her laugh betrayed her words.

For the first time in days, the ache in her chest felt lighter, replaced by the chaos and warmth of something she’d missed more than she realized: belonging.

₊‧.°.⋆✮⋆.°.‧₊

As the game night wound down, the chatter in the lounge softened into low murmurs, and one by one, the players began to drift off. Tara sat cross-legged on the couch, a blanket draped over her shoulders, sipping on a cup of warm water.

Rohit, Virat, and Bumrah exchanged a glance before making their way over to her. Tara noticed them approaching and gave them a small, curious smile. “What’s this? A secret captain’s meeting?”

“Not quite,” Virat said, sitting down on the armrest next to her. “We’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

Rohit took the chair opposite her, his usual easygoing demeanor replaced with a rare seriousness. Bumrah remained standing, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable but focused.

“Okay…” Tara said hesitantly, setting her cup down on the table. “What’s going on?”

Rohit leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “It’s about Matt,” he said carefully.

Her stomach twisted, and she instantly looked down, fiddling with the edge of the blanket. “What about him?”

Virat’s voice was gentle but firm. “We’ve all noticed you’ve been… different lately. And we figured it’s got something to do with him.”

Tara hesitated, her heart pounding. Part of her wanted to brush it off, to keep everything bottled up, but the concern in their eyes made her pause. Slowly, she nodded. “He—Matt and I—we broke up.”

The words hung heavy in the air.

“What happened?” Rohit asked quietly.

Tara exhaled shakily, her hands tightening around the blanket. “He cheated on me,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “It wasn’t just a mistake or a one-time thing. It was… more than that. And when I found out, he tried to twist it, like it wasn’t as bad as it was.”

Bumrah’s jaw tightened, his calm demeanor cracking just slightly. “He did what?”

Virat’s expression darkened, his usually sharp eyes flashing with anger. “That bastard. After all these years, he did that to you?”

“I’m so sorry, Tara,” Rohit said, his tone filled with both sympathy and restrained fury. “You didn’t deserve that.”

“It’s fine,” she said quickly, though her voice wavered. “I mean, it’s not fine, but… I’m dealing with it.”

“Dealing with it?” Bumrah repeated, his voice low. “You shouldn’t have had to deal with it at all. The man had everything, and he threw it away for what?”

“It’s his loss,” Virat said firmly. “And trust me, if I see him again, he’s going to regret ever hurting you.”

Tara blinked, her heart swelling at their fierce protectiveness. “You guys don’t have to—”

“We do,” Rohit interrupted. “You’re part of this family now, Tara. And we don’t let anyone mess with our own.”

“Exactly,” Bumrah added. “If he thinks he can get away with treating you like that, he’s dead wrong.”

Tara’s eyes stung, but this time it wasn’t from sadness. It was from the overwhelming warmth of knowing she wasn’t alone. “Thank you,” she murmured, her voice cracking slightly.

“Don’t thank us,” Virat said, his expression softening as he reached over to give her hand a reassuring squeeze. “Just promise us one thing.”

“What?”

“Don’t ever let someone like him make you doubt your worth again,” Rohit said. “You’re stronger than that.”

Tara nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. “I promise.”

As the three of them exchanged firm nods, Shubman appeared in the doorway, glancing between them with a raised eyebrow. “What’s going on here? Another game?”

“Just some important family business,” Virat said, his tone lighter now.

Shubman gave Tara a questioning look, and she smiled, small but genuine. For the first time in days, she felt like maybe—just maybe—she was going to be okay.