Strolling by the beach, their shoes in their hands, Piyali and Shubham had their gazes fixated on the foamy, briny waters that kept lapping against the sand. Ever since Piyali had come across Nandini the other day, she had been disturbed. She even scolded Shruti for passing on the information that Aditya and Nandini had met each other in the presence of Shruti and Abhi, for she never wished to know anything going on in that man's life. However, the impending possibility of her ex striking a relationship with her husband's ex indeed had her rattled. Shubham had asked her a few times if anything was wrong with her, but she didn't open her mouth. She was not sure how to tell him that his ex was now going to be with her ex, and this time, it might be for life.

Not that Shubham was not drowning in his own miseries and thoughts. The day Piyali showed up at his office, weeping incessantly, unable to get a single word out of her mouth, hyperventilating, he had been immensely concerned about the health of the mother and the baby. However, she controlled her sobs with immense difficulty, telling him that she came across Nandini in front of a florist. And ever since then, he had been unable to get the chubby girl's thoughts out of his mind. Ever since their break up, he had tried to forget her, but he loved her too much, and that was proven well when despite her treachery, she still held a special place in his heart.

His gaze snapped towards his wife when he sensed movements out of the corners of his eyes. She had stopped in her tracks, huffing, beads of perspiration appearing on her forehead. In his reverie, he failed to notice that they had been walking for a long time now, and the pregnant woman felt tired. His hands immediately went towards her arms, and he helped her plop on the nearest bench.

Grimacing, her nose scrunching, she placed a hand over her belly, caressing it. Taking deep breaths, she muttered, "Exhausted. Give me a moment."

He perched himself next to her, gently holding her hand, drawing circles on the back of her palm. "Water?"

"Nah, I am good." She gulped, her gaze falling on their entwined fingers. Before she knew it, her breathing evened out and a wide smile crept on her lips.

"Why are you grinning like a fool?" he said, wiggling his brows at her.

She giggled. "I like this new you, Mr. Agarwal."

He hummed. "Guess what, Mrs. Agarwal? I like this new you too."

As the ocean continued its tryst with the land, both sat with each other in tranquil quietude. The sun was going down the horizon, casting a mellow hue on the rippling surface of the water, the tides growing higher and higher as the evening wore on, but they kept sitting there, gazing at a distance, reminiscing all that had happened with them. Events that had brought them closer. Events that had the potential to make them or break them.

***

One year ago:

Reeling from the betrayals they faced, the utter humiliation their entire families had to endure due to the weddings getting called off, still furious with their respective partners, Shubham and Piyali arrived back in San Francisco. They had cut off ties with Aditya and Nandini. So had the rest of their friends. But the sweetest part was the support both had found in the entire clique. Yes, Abhi had chosen to side with Aditya, effectually breaking up with Shruti, but the rest of them stood like rocks behind the two, and they couldn't be more grateful.

But forgetting someone whom you love that deeply, that passionately, that intensely is a hard feat to achieve. The constriction in their chests never seemed to disappear, and although the world around them enjoyed the festivals, the major global events, the two of them had to force themselves to smile.

Piyali was still living with Rishi, and he didn't want her to move out either. Weeping silently, hiding her face in her pillow, oscillating between fits of melancholy and bouts of delirium had become her usual routine. Of course, she had to keep herself concealed from the prying eyes of her roommate because he despised Aditya a bit more when she cried.

Meanwhile, Shubham not only had his friends in SF supporting him, but he also had Jiya and Veer standing by him through thick and thin. Yes, Shanya had chosen to side with Nandini, but the others realized that the pretty girl had her real face come to the fore, and he was disgusted by it. By her. Days went by when he didn't feel like getting out of his bed, and though he appreciated the company of his friends, he preferred solitude.

As the group of friends chose to party one evening to uplift the duo's sullen mood, Shubham and Piyali found themselves at the bar of a club, sitting next to each other, their arms brushing ever so slightly, the strong aroma of alcohol mingling with their breaths and cologne, loud music emanating from the speakers, the beats of the tune making their hearts pulse erratically too.

Sipping the Sangria she had ordered for herself, she cast a quick glance to her side. "Scotch, huh? Neat?"

He nodded. "I just want to be inebriated. Helps me forget the terrible, terrible memories."

She looked back at the dance floor where Raunak and Akanksha were swaying to the tunes, hugging and kissing each other while Shruti and Rishi took the entire floor by storm with their horrible dance moves, flailing their arms and legs at weird angles, their expressions hilarious, and their steps so dangerous that others scooted out to avoid getting trampled by the crazy duo. "They find it so easy to laugh when I have to force myself to get out of bed each day."

He followed her line of gaze too, snorting. "Easy for them! Not so much for me."

"Fucking hurts," she muttered. "My ex is in love with your ex, and it fucking hurts."

"So bad." He scoffed, gulping down the contents of his tumbler in one go. His nose scrunched up when his oesophagus burned. "It fucking hurts."

The two of them continued to sit there as the party raged all around them, drinking incessantly, downing one drink after the other, not exchanging words but occasionally clinking their glasses together before letting the alcohol burn their parched throats. And their hysterical hearts.

Heaving a deep sigh, she said, "I wish an eternity of misery and loneliness for them. Both of them."

He cast an unsure glance at her. "They ruined us," he whispered, snatching another glass of scotch from the bartender. "Ruined my life. Yes, she did. I have lost faith in marriage and relationships and love. All because of her. I don't want to love again. That's the worst possible emotion, and the pain is so damn agonizing that... that... that..."

She tucked her hair behind her ears when she heard him floundering for words. Her drooping eyelids went to him, and she ended up giggling. "Aww! You look cute when you complain. Your nose scrunches up, and your lips pout."

His brows shot up. "Pout? I don't pout."

"Oh, but," she blinked to get rid of her blurry vision, "you do. And you look cute when you complain. Your nose scrunches up, and your lips pout."

"Pout?" He rolled his eyes. "I don't pout."

"Oh, but," she gulped, "you do. And you look cute when you complain. Your nose scrunches up, and your lips pout."

He huffed. "Pout? I don't pout."

He tried getting down from the barstool but tripped, and he had to hold the island to make himself steady. Groaning, when he finally took note of his surroundings, he was slightly surprised to find the gorgeous girl caged between his arms as his palms were on either side of the barstool she was sitting on. Her expressions gave away that she was nonplussed due to the proximity, but then both couldn't take their eyes off each other. Their noses were only inches away, their trembling lips closer than they had ever been. He could make out the faint outline of kohl under her eyes, and she could perceive the flecks of brown in his otherwise black pupils.

"You smell nice," he said, caressing her cheeks. "Strawberries and... and garden."

She tittered, letting her palms graze his stubble. "You look cute when you praise. Your nose scrunches up, and your lips pout."

His eyes widened. "Pout? Really? I pout?"

She pursed her lips and nodded.

"And I look cute?"

She nodded again.

"How cute?"

"V... ery cute!"

"Very?"

"Oodles. Cute." She pulled his cheeks, placing a soft kiss against his forehead. "So damn cute." She let her palms run down his well-defined torso before landing at the buckle of his trousers. However, as her hands traversed lower, both gasped as she had touched him too intimately, albeit unknowingly.

"Fuck!" He bit his lips. "Do you have any idea how long it has been since I have been laid?"

She let out a low whistle. "I haven't had any action in six months."

"Same, Miss Liyapi Rehma, six fucking months."

"Oh." She let out a ragged breath. "Same... I... same..."

He leaned closer to her ears. "There is a room upstairs," he whispered.

She frowned. "So?"

He wiggled his brows at her.

She huffed and rolled her eyes. "I am not cheating on my Adi."

He let out an audible sigh. "As if he cares," he muttered before recanting his arms and walking away.

She saw him retreating out of the party, heading towards the exit after settling the bill. A voice tinkled in the back of her mind, reminding her how intoxicated he was and how driving in that state would be the worst possible idea. She slid down from the barstool, swallowing her saliva and disliking the bitter aftertaste in her mouth, but her quivering legs and uncertain steps certainly carried her to the man with the gorgeous tattoo on his forearms.

His back was turned to her as he was busy swiping the credit card to pay for the evening, but through her heavy eyelids, she discerned the faint outline of another one of his branding peeking from under his shirt near his shoulders. Curiosity piqued in her mind, and she tapped his forearm.

He turned around and was slightly surprised to find the tipsy girl struggling to keep standing on her two feet. "What?"

"Pay my bills too," she mumbled.

"Paid for everyone. I am not a miser."

His gruff tone and his cold stare stirred something inside of her, and she leaned ahead, allowing her weight to collapse on him. He held her on time, a bit too protectively as his arms wound around her lithe waist. "I am not going to pay for the room upstairs either."

***

He paid for the room by himself, for she refused to shell out a single penny even in her drunken state. As soon as the door locked behind her, she felt a strong tug on her arms, and before she knew it, she was pressed against the door, his mouth landed on hers, kissing her with a fervor she had missed experiencing. Her moans against his mouth went unheard when he unzipped the dress, letting it pool near their feet before wrapping her legs around his waist, his tongue rolling around hers.

Lips trailing down to her bosom, palms exploring her back, he groaned when she tugged at his hair quite harshly. Running her palms all over his torso, his muscles flexing under each touch that left a trail of fire in its wake, she took charge and guided him towards the bed. Her flushed and fair cheeks gleamed under the faint irradiance of the room, she looked every bit like a divine woman—a seductress of the highest order.

He let out a shallow breath. "Sure, Liyapi Mehra?"

She giggled. "A hundred percent!"

His lazy fingers trailed along the length of her arm. "We are drunk. What if this sounds like a bad idea when we are sober?"

She frowned as her lips puckered. "Am I not attractive enough for you?"

"Oh, you are too damn attractive. Just... just... super sexy."

She gently tugged at his hair and forced him to look into her eyes. "Then kiss me like you mean it."

***

In her somnolent state, she could tell every muscle of her body was on fire as it pained her quite a bit. Her head was throbbing too while sharp light was falling on her face. Her eyes snapped open, and she took a deep breath because the sunlight flitting through the windows was giving her a headache. Groaning at the headache she was having, wondering why the room seemed unfamiliar, she twisted her body to the other side only to be met with the tattooed but bare back of a man. Her eyes widened in shock when she discerned how naked he was and how naked she was, both wrapped in nothing but the linen sheets. She also perceived the nail marks wildly scratched over his back, and she was certain it was her artistry.

A gasp emitted from her mouth, another whimper following close after, when he turned towards her, still asleep, his lips parted slightly as a soft snore escaped his nose. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined finding herself in the same bed as Shubham Agarwal. And it didn't take long to figure out that physical intimacy between the most unexpected two people had indeed transpired.

Her gaze traversed further down her body, noticing the way his arm was draped around her waist. For a fleeting moment, she felt protected, cared for, and then the actions from last night crashed inside her mind. The way their limbs had entwined, skin had met skin, the thrumming of his heart reverberating inside her chest. Goosebumps tingled all over her skin.

Snapping out of the sinful thoughts crossing her mind, she tried to extricate herself from his firm grasp, glimpsing around to see where her clothes were. She could see her green dress lying by the door, and she felt mortified at the thought of hooking up in such a wild manner. Shaking her head, she was successful in sitting up, his hands brushing against her exposed stomach and lying on her lap. Hiding her face behind her palms, cursing herself for drinking too much, and making a massive mistake, she didn't notice the movements out of the corners of her eyes.

Her mumbling had woken him up, and as soon as he drew his arms to him and opened his eyes, he was met with the sight of a very naked and very abashed Piyali, barely acknowledging his presence while saying something under her breath. He gulped at the sight of her, and it didn't take him long to recollect the wild night, her each touch striking up a fire on his skin. He quickly sat up.

She finally saw him awake, and she turned away, tugging at the bedsheet to wrap it around her lithe form.

He leaned against the headboard, letting out a low whistle. "So... that happened."

She swallowed audibly. "It shouldn't have."

"Let's... let's not talk about this, okay?"

She scrunched her nose. "Let's not talk. Period."

He shrugged. "Fine by me."

She got down from the bed, collecting her clothes and her accessories before shooting straight out of the door. Once it clicked shut, he slid under the sheets, reflecting on how life had just taken a 180-degree turn.

***

Things grew awkward between them and evading meeting one another was the best course of action they could take. They felt guilty because they still had a strong sense of loyalty for their exes despite the deceits they were met with. However, both couldn't get the oh-so-amazing night out of their minds. Frustrated they were, angry they were, and as they poured out all their emotions into that one night of lust, something changed within them. Culpability aside, they found themselves frequently reminiscing the night of untamed passion—unhindered, shameless.

Piyali couldn't focus on her work or her life. Earlier, she was depressed because of Aditya's actions, but now, she was distracted all the time too, wishing she could get one more night with Shubham. However, the very next moment, she felt disgusted with herself because not only had she imagined her life to be spent with Aditya, but she had also submitted herself completely to her ex. Now that she had let her body be touched in the very same way by Shubham, now that she had exhibited the very same trust when melting in his arms that she shared with Aditya, she couldn't be more ashamed of herself.

Shubham couldn't focus on his work or his life. Nandini's betrayal had plagued his waking and sleeping moments for a long time now, but these days, Piyali's breathtaking beauty and the passionate night played with his senses too. He found himself thinking about the girl on more occasions than one, and he despised himself for thinking about another woman when the love he had for Nandini wasn't extinct yet. All he had desired was to spend his life with her, share emotional intimacy with her, which they did. His relationship with Nandini had been amazing, to say the least. But after having an encounter with Piyali, he was more ashamed of himself than he was heartbroken because of what Nandini did.

Hence, he was quite surprised when he encountered Piyali at his doorstep one evening. The way she had been skipping the group meets, he was certain she had been dodging him. But the woman was right in front of him, wearing the same green dress she had worn the other day.

"Piyali?" He sucked in a sharp breath when his gaze fell on her succulent lips. He could never forget the sweet aftertaste of that sinful mouth. Clearing his throat, he said, "How are you?"

"Can we talk?"

He hummed, letting her inside. Offering her tea, both plopped on the couch with a mug each, sipping from their cups, exchanging furtive glances with one another but remaining silent. Both spoke up at the same time only when her phone chimed with a message.

"Why are you here, Piyali?"

"I feel terrible, Shubham."

Chuckling at the coincidence, he motioned at her to go first.

Smiling weakly, she said, "I feel terrible because of what happened between us the other night." She licked her lips. "I... I can't believe I did that to Adi, but on second thought, he cheated on me, and we are broken up. So, I shouldn't be feeling this way, right?"

He sipped from his cup, maintaining the same stoic expression. "Hmm. Right."

She stared at him for a few moments, expecting a detailed response on how he was feeling contrite and hollow too, but none came. So, she continued talking. "I hate him. I really, really do. I was depressed for so long. He cheated on me, ruined the wedding, and is now constantly apologizing to me by leaving a string of voice messages every day."

His brows shot up. "You haven't blocked him yet?"

Her face fell. "I... I couldn't bring myself to."

He hummed again.

She pursed her lips, slightly irked with the nonchalance in his attitude. Quirking her brows, she said, "Aren't you sad over what happened?"

He squinted his eyes at her, shrugging. "What's there to be sad about? They didn't love us. They loved each other. Good for them."

Her mouth hung open, and she was thoroughly piqued. Realizing that there was no point in talking to him, she sprang up, left the cup on the center table, and was about to leave without saying goodbye when his next words—spoken in a murmur—grabbed her attention.

"I hate them with an intensity that would scare you."

She carefully glanced at him. "Then why did you behave so indifferently moments ago?"

He scoffed. "Do you want me to announce it to the world that I am the loneliest person ever, and I loathe how she broke my heart?" He stood up and advanced towards her. Fury brimmed in his eyes. "Or do you want me to tell you that I can't sleep at night because her vibrant smile doesn't leave my mind? Or do you want to know how badly I miss her quirks, her obsession with keeping things clean, the beautiful eyes she has, and the incessant babble I fell in love with?" He caught her wrists and tugged her towards him, their noses an inch apart, their breaths interspersing. "Or do you want to know how madly I am still in love with her irrespective of what happened?"

She gasped, her orbs shimmering with unshed tears as she construed his dilemma too. So familiar. So similar. "I am still madly in love with him too. I can't forget how he smiled, how he looked handsome without trying, how his stubble tickled against my skin each time he kissed me. I can't misremember how well he played the guitar or how he drowned himself in work each day. The euphoria I experienced when he embraced me. His witty humor, howsoever morbid at times." She chortled. "His sense of humor is... inexplicable." Her shoulders went up in bafflement. "Although he has betrayed me, I can't not love him. And I don't even know why."

His gaze landed on her trembling lips, and he let out an audible sigh. "Do you really regret what happened between us?"

She blinked a few times to clear the haze fogging her mind, noticing how he hadn't left her hands and how he refused to look away, instead staring so intently at her lips that she was reminded of the debaucherous night. "I do and I don't."

He was muddled for a moment before he ended up laughing. "I like your attitude, Piyali Mehra."

She glimpsed down at the way his palms were still curled around her wrists, and she shivered when his breath fell on her cheeks. "Then you should kiss me like you mean it."

He didn't need to be told twice as his lips crashed over hers. His palms traversed from her wrists to her waist and to her hips, nails digging into her skin, his tongue swirling over hers. Her hands sifted through his hair, sensuality dripping from the way she batted her lashes at him. He didn't waste another second before yanking at her arms, picking her up, and heading straight to his room. What followed was another night of profligacy!

***