I wake up with a throbbing headache, the aftermath of last night's party. As I open my eyes, I realize I'm not in my room. The unfamiliar surroundings are disorienting until I notice Abhishek sitting in front of the bed, staring at me with an unreadable expression.

"Morning," he says, his tone flat.

I sit up quickly, my heart racing. "What the hell am I doing here?"

"You passed out," he replies, not moving. "Figured it was better for you to sleep it off here."

Memories of last night come rushing back—the party, Shreya’s failed attempt to humiliate me, and the ensuing chaos. I groan inwardly, feeling a mix of embarrassment and frustration.

"Thanks," I mumble, rubbing my temples. "But you didn't have to stay."

Abhishek shrugs. "Didn't want you wandering off in your condition. Koi dar war jata toh."

His nonchalant attitude grates on my nerves. "Well, I’m fine now. You can go."

He doesn’t budge. "You sure? Because last night was pretty intense."

I glare at him, annoyed. "I said I’m fine."

He finally stands, but there's a hint of concern in his eyes. "Alright, if you say so. But if you need anything, just... let someone know, okay? Aur please aise kisi aur ke upar gir mat jana. You're pretty messy when you're drunk."

I nod, more to get him to leave than anything else. Once he’s gone, I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. Today is match day, and I need to get it together.

---

The day of the match dawns bright and clear. The energy at the stadium is electric, with fans pouring in to support their teams. I make my way to the stands where the WAGs are seated, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness. It's always like this on match days—an emotional rollercoaster.

I find Ritika, Devisha, Sanjana, Anushka, and Abhishek's elder sister, Komal, with her daughter, Amayra, already seated. They wave at me, and I hurry over to join them.

"Hey, Myra! Ready for another nail-biter?" Ritika asks with a grin.

"You know it," I reply, taking the seat next to her. "I’ve got my fingers crossed."

Ritika laughs. "Me too. Rohit always jokes that it's our lucky charm."

Komal, who is holding Amayra in her lap, smiles warmly at me. "It’s good to see you, Myra. Are you excited?"

"Definitely," I respond. "How's Amayra?"

"She's all set to cheer for her uncle," Komal says, laughing.

The match begins with India batting first. Rohit Sharma and Shubman open the innings. As they walk out to the middle, the crowd erupts in cheers.

"Good luck, boys!" Anushka whispers enthusiastically.

Ritika and I exchange a look, both of us crossing our fingers as Rohit and Shubman take their positions. The first few overs are steady, with both batsmen playing cautiously.

"Chal mere, bhai! Show them what you’ve got," I mutter under my breath.

The first boundary of the day comes from Rohit's bat, and the stands explode in cheers. Devisha and I exchange high-fives. The next over, Shubman hits a beautiful cover drive for four, and I can't help but cheer loudly.

The runs start coming more freely, and both openers look in fine form. Rohit reaches his half-century with a powerful six, and the stands go wild.

"That's my husband!" Ritika says proudly.

Shubman follows suit shortly after, reaching his fifty with a delicate flick to the leg side. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and give a little cheer.

"Well done, Shubi!" I say to myself for God knows what reason.

As the innings progress, the runs keep piling up. Rohit is dismissed for a well-made 73, but not before giving India a solid start. Shubman continues to bat beautifully, anchoring the innings. Surya Kumar Yadav comes in next, and he starts with a flurry of boundaries, maintaining the momentum.

"Surya bhau is on fire today!" I exclaim.

Devisha beams. "My man!"

Shubman eventually falls for a well-played 85, but he has done his job, and India is in a strong position. The middle order contributes with quick runs, and India ends their innings at a formidable 320.

During the break, we chat and joke around, the tension easing slightly.

"That was a great first half," Anushka says, sipping her drink. "Let’s hope the bowlers can keep it up."

The second innings begin, and the Indian bowlers start strongly. Jasprit Bumrah and Mohammed Shami are on point with their deliveries, keeping the New Zealand batsmen in check. Bumrah takes the first wicket with a perfect yorker, and the stands erupt once again.

Ravindra Jadeja is brought into the attack, and he quickly gets a couple of wickets with his cunning spin. The opposition is struggling to build partnerships, and the required run rate keeps climbing.

Throughout the match, Ritika and I keep our fingers crossed, our little superstition that seems to be working.

"Do you really think it helps?" Devisha asks, amused.

"Absolutely," Ritika and I say in unison, causing everyone to laugh.

However, New Zealand fights back hard. Their middle-order batsmen put up a fierce resistance, and the runs start flowing again. The match becomes tense, with the required run rate dropping steadily. The crowd, once jubilant, now watches in anxious silence.

"They're putting up a good fight," Komal notes, bouncing Amayra gently on her knee who then reaches out to me as I make her sit on my lap.

As the innings near the climax, the tension is palpable. With 20 runs needed off the last two overs, Jasprit Bumrah is brought back into the attack. His first delivery is spot on, and he manages to get a crucial wicket, turning the tide in India's favor once again.

The final over is a nail-biter. With 10 runs needed off the last six balls, it's anyone's game. Bumrah bowls with precision, conceding only singles and doubles. With three runs needed off the last ball, he delivers a perfect yorker, uprooting the stumps and sealing the victory for India.

Jassi, you're the greatest,mannn.

The stands erupt in celebration. We all jump to our feet, cheering and hugging each other.

"That was too close for comfort," Anushka says, laughing with relief.

"Mai toh ek min ke liye dar hi gayi thi," I reply, still breathless from the excitement.

As the players leave the field, Shubman looks up at the stands and gives us a thumbs up. I wave back, feeling a surge of pride and relief.

"Let's go down and meet the boys," Ritika suggests.

We make our way to the players' lounge, where the atmosphere is jubilant. The team is celebrating their hard-fought victory, and the mood is infectious.

The celebration continues late into the night, with everyone basking in the glory of their hard-earned win. As I look around at the faces of my friends and family, I realize just how much this team means to me. They are not just players and wives; they are my extended family, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

__________________________________

(Third person POV)

The stadium had nearly emptied out, the loud cheers and roars of the crowd replaced by the quiet hum of staff clearing the stands and players wrapping up their post-match routines. Abhishek stood with his teammates, engaged in light banter and discussing the highlights of the game. Though, every now and then, his gaze drifted over to where Myra was sitting with Amayra.

Amayra was perched comfortably on Myra's lap, both of them engrossed in a world of their own, making funny faces at each other and giggling uncontrollably. It was a heartwarming sight, one that Abhishek found himself unable to look away from. He felt a strange fluttering in his stomach, a feeling he couldn't quite place.

Unable to resist, he discreetly pulled out his phone and snapped a candid picture of the two of them. Myra's face was lit up with laughter, her eyes sparkling with joy, while Amayra's wide grin mirrored her own. The image captured a moment of pure, unfiltered happiness.

Abhishek stared at the picture for a few seconds, a small smile tugging at his lips. There was something undeniably captivating about the scene, something that made him feel warm and oddly content. He couldn't understand why, but he felt a strange connection forming, something he hadn't expected.

Just then, Komal, who had been chatting with some of the WAGs, walked over and noticed the look on Abhishek's face. She followed his gaze to the picture on his phone and raised an eyebrow, a mischievous grin spreading across her face.

"Ahm.. ahm..?" Komal teased, nudging him playfully. "Mujhe nahi pata tha mera bhai itna bada creep hai .Taking secret pictures, are we?"

Abhishek quickly locked his phone and shoved it into his pocket, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. " Di, Aisa kuch nahi hai, thik hai? Bas woh... Amayra looked cute, that's all."

Komal chuckled, clearly enjoying his discomfort. "Sure, sure. Sabko pata hai, agar tum dono ka jhagda nahi hua hota na uss din, aaj woh girlfriend hoti teri. Admit it, Yaar, you've got a soft spot for her."

Abhishek rolled his eyes, trying to play it cool. "Arey, maine kaha na, She's good with Amayra, that's all. Ise girlfriend banau usse accha toh mai puri life single reh lu."

"Oh, come on," Komal persisted, her grin widening. "Mujhe toh lagta hai, toh usse jhagda hi isliye karta hai, so that tu usse baat kar sake."

Abhishek glanced over at Myra and Amayra again, his expression softening. "Di,yaar? Sapne me bhi na sochu aisa main. She's... different. I'll give you that. But liking her? I don't know about that."

Komal gave him a knowing look, her eyes twinkling with mischeif. "Thik hai, baaki agar aisa kuch ho toh, mujhe to koi problem nahi hai."

With that, she patted him on the shoulder and walked over to join Myra and Amayra, leaving Abhishek to his thoughts. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to make sense of the confusing emotions swirling inside him.

As he watched Myra interact with Amayra, her genuine care and affection evident in every gesture, he couldn't help but wonder if his sister was right. Maybe there was something more to the strange feeling in his stomach, something he hadn't been ready to acknowledge until now.

Bhai, tu thik hai na?
Nahi, Nahi. Abhay, thoda pani pi le, sab theek ho jayega. He thought, as he continued to look at them trying to figure himself out.

"Oy, Abhay!" Shubman's voice snapped him out of his reverie."Chal yaar, Virat bhai mardenge hume. Kab se chilla raha hu? Kaha gayab hai?"

"Ha, sorry, aa raha hu," Abhishek replied, giving one last glance at the picture on his phone before jogging over to join his friend.

*****

Longest chapter yet, but we won the world cup, so doesn't matter 🤧✨.
Also can you guys please comment so that I know if you all are liking the book or not? Plssss.

~Luv, author.