Though you guys didn't vote....I'm still gonna do an update. Because I love you all so much!!!

I'll still appreciate it if you hit that ⭐️ button after reading the chapter (ofcourse only if you really liked it)

And as I promised, here's the answer to my last question.

I have a long list of hobbies, but the ones I love the most are painting and singing.

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As the days grew shorter, the reality of leaving for London began to sink in. Every passing hour felt like it was carrying me closer to the inevitable, and though I had dreamt of this moment for years, now that it was happening, I couldn't shake off the bittersweet ache that clung to my heart.

Packing was a mess. My room, which was usually neat, looked like it had been hit by a tornado of clothes, books, and sentimental keepsakes I couldn't bring myself to leave behind.

"Srishti, I found these at the back of your closet," Mumma said, walking in with a pile of old photo albums.

"These should go in your luggage," she smiled, her eyes glistening with a mix of pride and sadness.

"Thanks, Mumma," I whispered, taking the albums from her hands.

She sat beside me on the floor, running her hand through my hair in the same comforting way she always did. It reminded me of those quiet evenings when I would lie in her lap, feeling the world melt away. Now, the thought of being across oceans from her felt like a strange twist of fate.

"You know, when you were little, I used to dream about this day. About you growing up to become the woman you are today." Her voice cracked slightly, and I looked up at her, my heart swelling with emotion. "But I didn't think it would come so soon."

"Mumma, I'm just going to study. It's not like I'm moving forever," I tried to reassure her, but even I knew the weight behind my words. London was the first big step, and neither of us knew what would come after.

"I know, dear, but still... you'll be so far," she said, giving me a soft smile.

Before I could say anything else, Avi burst into the room, carrying a massive shopping bag in one hand and a goofy grin on his face.

"Srish, I got you some snacks for the flight!" he said, plopping the bag down on the bed.

"Snacks? Avi, I'm not moving to Mars!" I laughed, rifling through the bag filled with cookies, chocolates, and instant noodles.

"Whatever. You'll thank me when you're starving at 2 a.m. in London and the only thing open is some fancy café that serves overpriced salads," he said, settling on the bed.

"Thanks," I said, my voice soft. He didn't show it, but I knew he would miss me as much as I would miss him. Growing up, we fought over the silliest things, but deep down, we were each other's biggest support system.

"Make sure you video call every day," he muttered, his eyes glued to his phone as if trying to act casual.

"I will. I'll miss annoying you the most," I teased.

He didn't respond, but I caught the hint of a smile before he slipped out of the room.

The next few days flew by in a blur of packing, goodbyes, and last-minute errands. My favourite aunt had visited to give me one final hug before I left, and even Papa, who usually kept his emotions in check, was quieter than usual. He didn't say much, but I could see the way he looked at me as if he was trying to memorize every detail before I left.

.

.

.

Days passed, and though I was still packing and soaking up time with my family, the feeling of finality was slowly creeping in. There were still a few days left before my flight to London, but I could feel the clock ticking down with every passing moment. My room, once cluttered with the everyday chaos of my life, was now reduced to half-filled suitcases and empty shelves. The house felt heavier, quieter somehow as if everyone was holding their breath, waiting for the inevitable goodbye.

I had already wrapped up my last day at work. That had been emotional in itself—farewells from colleagues, sweet gestures, and a surprise cake that almost made me tear up. But now, with the excitement of a new chapter ahead, there was also a dull ache in my chest, knowing I'd be leaving so much behind.

One afternoon, while folding clothes into neat stacks, my phone buzzed. A notification lit up the screen, and I absentmindedly opened the message.

"I'm coming over. No questions, just be ready."

I blinked, a small confused smile forming on my lips. This is just so typical of him. He had a knack for showing up unannounced with the most random messages. I didn't take it seriously at first, brushing it off as one of his usual jokes. He was always so spontaneous, flying in and out of places on a whim thanks to his flexible schedule. But the idea of him just dropping everything to come over seemed a little far-fetched.

Me:
"Yeah right. Flying all the way from New York just like that? Sure, see you in 5 minutes, right? 😆"

I chuckled to myself as I placed the phone back on the bed, returning to my packing. But not even five minutes later, the doorbell rang. I frowned, slightly confused.

"Mumma, are we expecting anyone?" I called out.

"No, dear, not that I know of," came her reply from the kitchen.

Curiosity got the better of me, and I quickly made my way to the door. When I opened it, my breath caught in my throat.

"Sahil?!"

Sahil has always been a force in my life. We met when we were teens, through our parents, and while I was painfully shy and introverted back then, he didn't seem to care. In fact, it was he who took it upon himself to adopt me as his best friend, dragging me out of my shell with his infectious laughter and carefree attitude. He's everything I'm not—confident, outgoing, effortlessly charming. A successful psychologist now, living in New York, he's grown into someone who makes everyone around him feel lighter. But what most people don't see is his depth, the way he quietly cares without making a fuss.

And now there he was, leaning casually against the doorframe, suitcase in hand, grinning like a mischievous schoolboy with his comforting yet familiar warmth.

"Surprise," he said, his voice light but his eyes twinkling with that familiar warmth.

I gaped at him for a moment, completely taken aback. "What... How... When did you get here? You didn't actually mean that text!"

Sahil laughed, stepped inside, dropped his bag near the entrance and engulfed me in a big hug. "I did, actually. Got a few days off and thought I'd come by and see my favourite person. You didn't think I was joking, did you?"

I stared at him, still processing the fact that he was actually standing in front of me. "I just... I didn't think you'd actually fly in like this! You never said anything about coming!"

He shrugged, his smile widening. "Guess I like surprising you."

But just as he was about to hug me again, his eyes fell on the open suitcase near the staircase. His smile faltered. "Are you all going somewhere? Did I come at the wrong time?"

I felt my heart sink. I didn't tell him.

She hadn't told HIM.

"Uh..." I hesitated, biting my lip. "Sahil, I... I'm moving to London."

The words hung in the air, and for a second, everything seemed to pause.

He blinked, his expression shifting from confusion to something deeper, something that looked almost like hurt. "London?" he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. "Since when?"

I swallowed hard, guilt bubbling up inside me. "It's been in the works for a couple of months. I got an offer for higher education, and... It all happened so fast, and—"

"It all happened so fast?" Sahil cut in, his tone now tinged with disbelief. "Srishti, you're moving to another country. I'm your best friend, and I have to find out like this? At your doorstep?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but the words wouldn't come. I could see the hurt in his eyes, the way he was trying to mask his disappointment behind a calm facade. And that only made the guilt gnaw at me more.

Sahil ran a hand through his hair, letting out a shaky laugh. "So, you're just leaving? And you didn't think to tell me before finalizing everything?"

"It's not like that, Sahil. I was going to tell you—I just... I didn't know how."

He stared at me for a long moment, as if searching my face for something—an explanation, an apology, anything. Finally, he let out a slow breath. "Alright," he said quietly, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I get it. I guess I was just the last to know."

"Sahil, it's not like I meant to hide it from you—"

"It's fine, Srishti." He gave me a tight-lipped smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Really. I'm not here to make you feel bad. You're going to London, and that's amazing. I'm happy for you."

As Sahil and I stood frozen at the door, my mind raced with what to say, how to explain everything. But before either of us could get a word in, Mumma appeared behind me, instantly breaking the tension. "Oh my gosh, Sahil dear, what a surprise!" she beamed, stepping forward and pulling him into a quick hug. "You've become so slim! You doctors don't know how to take care of yourselves," she teased.

Sahil chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I know, aunty. Sorry for the unannounced visit. My family's still on holiday, and I thought, if it's okay, maybe I could stay here for a few days? I promise I won't be a bother."

"Bother? You're like family! You should've called sooner," she scolded, playfully swatting his arm before leading him inside. "Come on, I'll get you some tea. You must be tired from the flight."

Papa joined us in the living room soon after, offering Sahil the same warm welcome. In no time, he was settled into the guest room, bags unpacked, and the house suddenly felt a little more alive with his presence. There was something about Sahil—he always made things feel lighter, less complicated, just by being there.

.

Later that evening, after dinner, Sahil and I found ourselves on the balcony, the cool night air brushing against our faces. It had become one of our unspoken traditions over the years—whenever he visited, we'd end up here, talking about everything and nothing. Tonight, though, there was a certain weight to the conversation that neither of us had fully addressed.

"So, London, huh?" Sahil said, leaning against the railing, his gaze fixed on the stars. "I've been thinking... why didn't you choose New York? I mean, I'm already there. It would've been perfect. You could've annoyed me all you wanted."

I laughed, nudging him with my elbow. "I didn't want to cramp your style, Sahil. All those girls swooning over the handsome New York doctor, I didn't want to ruin your image."

He smiled at my teasing, but I could see something shift in his eyes, something deeper than our usual playful banter. He tried to mask it with a grin, but I caught the way his gaze lingered on me a moment too long, a flicker of emotion just beneath the surface. It was the same look I'd seen on rare occasions when he thought I wasn't paying attention—a softness, as though I meant more to him than I realized.

"Oh, please, my 'image' would only improve with you around," he shot back, winking. Then, a bit softer, "You didn't tell me, though. I had to hear about this London move when I got here. Why?"

I paused, feeling a pang of guilt. "Honestly, it just happened so fast. And you were in New York, busy with your own life. I didn't want to bother you with my plans. Plus... I guess I didn't want to make a big deal out of it."

Sahil nodded, though his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. For a fleeting second, his expression was unreadable—like he was holding something back, a thought he wanted to voice but couldn't bring himself to. "Well, it's a pretty big deal to me," he said quietly, and for a moment, there was a heaviness between us again, his words carrying more weight than just the logistics of my move.

I looked away, trying to lighten the mood. "Besides, if I moved to New York, who'd keep you humble? Someone has to remind you that you're not as cool as you think."

He burst out laughing, the tension easing as he ruffled my hair. "Right, I'd probably be unbearable without you around to bring me back to Earth."

But even as he laughed, I noticed the way his eyes softened again, the way his hand lingered just a moment longer than usual in my hair. There was something almost unspoken in the way he looked at me tonight, as though he was memorizing every detail, storing it away for a time when I wouldn't be so close. A certain vulnerability in his gaze, like he was holding onto a secret that was becoming too heavy to keep.

As the night went on, our conversation drifted into lighter topics—memories of our teenage years, the time I fell off a bicycle because I was too busy laughing at his joke, and how he still reminds me of it. We stayed out there, laughing and talking, until the stars faded and the air grew too cold.

But even in the midst of our laughter, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more behind Sahil's words tonight. Every so often, I'd catch him looking at me out of the corner of my eye—his expression soft, almost wistful, like he was silently holding onto something that was slipping away. And in those quiet moments, I wondered if maybe, just maybe, Sahil had been keeping more than just our friendship tucked away all these years.

***

After the conversation with Sahil, I slipped away to my room, closing the door softly behind me. The evening breeze had left a slight chill in my skin, but it wasn't just the cold that was making me restless. Sahil's words, his quiet smiles—there was something more there tonight, something unspoken that lingered in the air even after he'd gone to his guest room.

As I sat down on the edge of my bed, lost in thought, a knock sounded on my door. Before I could answer, Avi peeked his head in, his face twisted in that familiar, half-suspicious look he always wore whenever Sahil was around.

"Hey," he muttered, stepping fully into the room and leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest.

"Hey," I replied, tilting my head at him. "What's with the face?"

Avi huffed, rolling his eyes. "What's with Sahil being here all of a sudden? And why is he staying for a few days? Doesn't he have his own house or something?"

I sighed, sensing where this was going. Avi had always been... protective, in his own way. Ever since we were kids, he had this weird rivalry with Sahil—probably because Sahil was the one who could tease me mercilessly and get away with it, while Avi's teasing usually earned him an earful. But lately, Avi's attitude towards Sahil had turned more serious, especially since Sahil had started visiting less frequently due to work.

"He just got back, and his family's still on holiday. It's not like he planned this," I explained, pulling a pillow into my lap.

"Yeah, but you know how I feel about him," Avi grumbled, pacing a little. "There's something off about the guy."

I raised an eyebrow. "Off? Sahil's been my best friend for years. You know that."

"Exactly," Avi shot back, turning to face me. "He's always hanging around, acting all chummy with you, but I don't like it. There's something more to it, and it bugs me."

"Wait, are you jealous?" I teased, smirking as I tried to lighten the mood. "My best friend is staying for a few days and you're acting like he's invading your space."

Avi groaned in frustration. "It's not jealousy, Srishti. It's just... I don't trust him. He's too... I don't know... smooth. Like he's hiding something. And he never seems to tell you everything. Don't you find it weird?"

I paused, Avi's words hitting closer to home than I wanted to admit. "What do you mean?"

Avi threw up his hands. "Come on! You've known him forever, but don't you feel like sometimes he's not being completely honest with you? Like he's holding something back?"

I blinked, momentarily caught off guard by Avi's observation. There had been moments, like tonight, where I sensed something beneath the surface with Sahil. Something he wasn't saying. But was it really that obvious to everyone, even to Avi?

"It's not like that," I said, more to convince myself than Avi. "Sahil's been busy with work. He's not hiding anything. We're friends, that's all."

Avi gave me a look that said he wasn't buying it. "Look, I'm not saying he's a bad guy. I just don't like how he shows up out of nowhere and suddenly he's staying here. I know you trust him, but I don't want you getting hurt or... I don't know, blindsided by whatever he's not telling you."

I sighed, the weight of the conversation making my chest feel heavy. "Avi, I appreciate the concern, really. But you don't need to worry about Sahil. He's not like that."

Avi stared at me for a moment, his expression softening just a little. "Alright," he said finally, rubbing the back of his neck. "Just... be careful, okay? I'm your brother. I'm supposed to worry."

I smiled faintly, nodding. "I know. Thanks, Avi."

With one last glance, he turned and left the room, closing the door softly behind him. As I lay back on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, Avi's words echoed in my mind. Maybe he was overreacting, or maybe he was seeing something I hadn't let myself fully acknowledge.

But one thing was for sure—things were changing, and not just with London on the horizon. Something was shifting between Sahil and me, something I wasn't sure how to handle yet.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Whoosh.. this was a long chapter.

So, what are your thoughts about SAHIL???

I like him already 🤗😍

I don't why but when I wrote his character, I imagined a specific someone as Sahil.

You know who??

Maybe you can imagine him 'standing next to you' 😂😂😂

Question for today-

Is there any song you're listening to on repeat these days?

See you later ✌🏻