By afternoon, the sound of the doorbell echoed through the apartment, breaking the quiet hum of Kinjal and Vayra’s ongoing conversations. Vayra walked to the door, her curiosity piqued, only to be greeted by a familiar sight: Abhishek, standing there with his charming grin and holding a vibrant bouquet of sunflowers.

“You brought flowers?” Vayra asked, a mix of surprise and delight in her voice.

Abhishek shrugged nonchalantly, stepping inside. “What can I say? Sunflowers suit you. Bright, bold, and impossible to ignore.”

Vayra rolled her eyes at his cheesy comment but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. “You’ve got jokes today, huh?”

Kinjal, who was still lounging on the couch, raised an eyebrow at the exchange. “Oh, look at Mr. Romantic Cricketer gracing us with his presence. What’s the occasion, Abhishek?”

Abhishek turned to Kinjal, smirking. “Just thought I’d drop by to make sure you two aren’t working yourselves to death on your day off. Besides,” he added, glancing back at Vayra, “I wanted to spend some uninterrupted time with my girlfriend.”

Kinjal made a gagging noise, earning a laugh from Abhishek.

“Don’t you have a match to prepare for or something?” Kinjal teased, pretending to act annoyed.

“Not today,” Abhishek replied smoothly. “Today is all about unwinding, and I figured there’s no better place than here. Besides,” he added playfully, “someone has to make sure Vayra takes a break. She works harder than any of us.”

Vayra smirked. “You’re not wrong about that.”

As they chatted, Abhishek placed the sunflowers in a vase and settled into the apartment like he belonged there. Vayra couldn’t help but appreciate the effort he was putting into making the day feel special.

“Alright, Mr. Boyfriend,” Kinjal said, standing up and stretching. “Since you’re here to babysit Vayra, I’m going to take some time to clear my head. You two enjoy your lovey-dovey day. I’ll see myself out.”

“Where are you off to?” Vayra asked, narrowing her eyes.

“Anywhere but here,” Kinjal replied, grabbing her keys. She smirked at Abhishek. “Don’t spoil her too much, champ. I don’t want to deal with an overly pampered Vayra tomorrow.”

Abhishek chuckled. “I’ll try my best.”

As Kinjal left the apartment, Vayra turned to Abhishek, her expression softening. “So, what’s the plan for the day?”

Abhishek grinned, leaning back on the couch. “No plan. Just spending time with you. That’s all I need.”

The simplicity of his words warmed her heart, and for the first time in a while, Vayra felt herself relax completely.

-------

Kinjal sighed as she pushed herself gently on the swing in the small garden outside the apartment complex. The afternoon breeze was calming, but her mind was racing with a million thoughts—the secret admirer, the fake relationship, and Shubman. She had come outside to give Vayra and Abhishek some privacy, not wanting to third-wheel their romantic day.

Two hours had passed, and Kinjal had lost track of time. Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the continuous buzzing of her phone. She pulled it out to see her screen lighting up with a flood of messages from Shubman.

---

Madam, kahaan ho aap?

Did you eat?

I’m thinking we should go out again today.

Don’t tell me you’re working on a Sunday!

Agar kaam kar rahi ho toh, I’ll pick you up anyway. We’ll have chai somewhere.

Kinjal, you’re ignoring me. Yeh fake relationship mein yeh sab allowed nahi hai.

Answer me.

---

Kinjal rolled her eyes at his persistence but couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto her lips. The next text popped up just as she was about to type a reply.

---

Acha, fine. Ignore me. Par yaad rakhna, I’m your fake boyfriend. Tum meri zimmedaari ho.

Aur waise bhi, fake ya real, boyfriend hoon toh kuch rights toh hain na.

---

She laughed softly at his audacity. “This guy,” she muttered to herself, shaking her head. Just as she was about to reply, another message came in.

---

Main aaj ke liye free hoon. You have five minutes to tell me where you are, warna main khud dhoondhne aa jaunga.

---

Kinjal’s eyes widened. She quickly typed back.

---

Relax, Gilli Danda Player. I’m just in the garden near my apartment.

Main aa raha hoon.

Nahi! Stay where you are. Vayra aur Abhishek mere apartment mein hain. Agar tum yahaan aaye, toh ek nayi love story ban jayegi—Abhishek aur tumhari!

---

Kinjal burst out laughing at her own joke.

-----

After about 30 minutes, Shubman finally showed up, dressed casually yet stylishly in a crisp white t-shirt, blue pants, and his signature black Rolex glinting under the sun. His hair was slightly messy, as if he had hurriedly fixed it before arriving, but it only added to his charm.

As he entered the residential garden, he spotted Kinjal sitting on the swing, lost in her own world with headphones on. Her hair swayed gently with the motion of the swing, and the soft sunlight highlighted her relaxed features. Shubman couldn’t help but smirk at the peaceful scene in front of him.

Deciding to make his presence known in the most dramatic way possible, he ran towards her and, without any warning, gave the swing a strong push with all his might. The swing shot up, making Kinjal lose her balance slightly as she grabbed the ropes tightly.

"Aaaaah! Shubman!" she screamed, her heart racing in shock.

Removing her headphones quickly, she turned to glare at him, her face red with anger. "Tujhe dimag hai ya nahi? Main gir jaati toh? Kya pagalpan hai yeh, haan?"

Shubman threw his head back, laughing uncontrollably. "Pagalpan nahi, excitement hai, madam. Tumhara fake boyfriend hoon, itna drama toh banta hai!"

Kinjal glared at him even harder and started ranting, mixing in a string of Hindi abuses, "Teri toh... bewakoof insaan! Kaun karta hai aise? Pehle se hi stress mein hoon aur tu—”

“Bas bas, madam! Aur gaaliyan mat do, tumhari Hindi wali gaaliyan mere dil ko chhup jaati hain,” he said, dramatically placing a hand on his chest, trying hard to suppress his laughter.

Kinjal’s eyes narrowed as she got off the swing, pointing a finger at him. "Ek din maar khaayega tu, Shubman. Samajh le, ACP se panga lena mehenga padega."

"Arre, maine toh bas tumhari life mein thoda thrill add kiya hai," he replied nonchalantly, shrugging with a cheeky grin. "Chalo, ab bas drama band karo. Tumhare saath time spend karne ka mann ho raha tha."

Kinjal rolled her eyes. "Pehle dimaag chalane ka mann karo, time spend karna baad mein sochna."

Shubman smirked, tilting his head. "Tumhare saath reh kar dimaag chhodna hi padta hai. Chalein?"

With an exaggerated sigh, Kinjal nodded, walking with him toward the nearby benches. "Par yeh mazaak band kar de warna next time tujhe fake girlfriend ke liye bhi mana kar dungi!"

-------

As they sat on the bench, Kinjal disconnected her Bluetooth from her phone, and her Spotify playlist flashed on the screen. Shubman leaned over with a curious glance and froze.

“Sheila Ki Jawani? Seriously?” he exclaimed, a teasing grin forming on his face.

Kinjal ignored him, scrolling through her phone like he wasn’t there.

But Shubman wasn’t one to let it slide. “ACP Kinjal Mathur, the iron lady of the KC Headquarters, listens to item songs? This is breaking news!”

Kinjal’s glare sharpened. “Shubman, stop it.”

But he wasn’t done. “You must have a whole playlist of these, don’t you? Let me guess: Munni Badnaam Hui is next?” he teased, leaning even closer.

Kinjal sighed, trying to tune him out, but Shubman only got louder. “I bet you secretly practice these dances. Come on, admit it—you’ve done the hook step at least once.”

Kinjal finally turned to him, her eyes blazing. “Shubman, you’re crossing a line.”

“Oh, come on,” Shubman laughed. “Don’t be so serious all the time, Sheila Mathur.”

That was it. Without a second thought, Kinjal’s hand shot up and landed squarely on his cheek with a loud smack.

Shubman froze, blinking in shock. “You actually slapped me!”

Kinjal tilted her head, completely unbothered. “I warned you, didn’t I?”

Shubman rubbed his cheek, a mix of surprise and amusement on his face. “Wow. For someone with such a delicate hand, that slap really stung.”

“Good,” Kinjal replied curtly, standing up and dusting off her jeans. “Maybe now you’ll think twice before teasing me.”

Shubman stood up too, still holding his cheek. “You’re unbelievable.”

Kinjal smirked. “And you’re annoying. Consider us even.”

Shubman shook his head, the corners of his mouth twitching into a reluctant smile. “I’ll give you this, Mathur. You’ve got guts.”

“And you’ve got a big mouth,” Kinjal shot back, walking away. But she couldn’t hide the small, victorious smile playing on her lips.

------

Kinjal walked away without sparing him another glance and settled on the opposite bench, crossing her arms. She acted like nothing had happened, but deep down, she felt a tiny pang of guilt. Meanwhile, Shubman followed her quietly, his cheek still burning from the slap. He sat beside her silently, a rare calm settling over him.

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t let it show.

God, it stings. How can such a petite woman pack so much strength in a slap? he thought to himself.

He glanced at her sideways. She was sitting with her arms folded, her face a mask of defiance.

She doesn’t even care that she hit me. Forget an apology—I bet she’s already moved on.

He leaned back against the bench, staring at the sky as his thoughts spiraled.

Why did I even come here? I just wanted to mess with her a little, and now I’m sitting here like an idiot, nursing a bruised ego and a sore cheek.

His gaze shifted back to her, noticing how the sunlight caught in her hair. She looked so calm, like she had all the answers in the world. He sighed internally.

Why am I even letting this bother me? It’s not like I haven’t been through worse on the field. But this... this feels different. She’s different.

He shook his head slightly, frustrated with himself.

Why do I care so much about what she thinks? I should’ve walked away after that slap instead of following her like a kicked puppy.

Kinjal shifted slightly, and he noticed her glancing at him from the corner of her eye. She quickly looked away, pretending to adjust her bag.

She knows I’m hurt but won’t say anything, he thought bitterly. Typical Mathur—so stubborn. But damn if she isn’t the most frustratingly intriguing person I’ve ever met.

The silence between them stretched, heavy with unspoken words. Neither of them moved to break it, each lost in their own thoughts.

After what felt like an eternity of silence, Kinjal finally decided to break it. She turned her head slightly towards him and said, “Let’s go for a walk and get some ice cream?”

Shubman glanced at her, his expression unreadable, and gave a small nod. True to her assumption, he didn’t say a word, just stood up and followed her as she began walking.

The atmosphere between them was still tense, but Kinjal chose to ignore it. She wasn’t the type to apologize easily, and she figured ice cream would smooth things over—at least a little.

When they reached a small ice cream shop, Kinjal walked straight up to the counter. “Two cones, please,” she said confidently. She glanced back at Shubman and quickly added, “One chocolate and one mango.”

As the server handed her the cones, Shubman reached into his pocket, pulling out his wallet. But before he could say anything, Kinjal handed over the cash.

“It’s a treat from me,” she said lightly, holding out the mango cone to him.

Shubman hesitated for a moment before taking the cone, his fingers brushing against hers briefly. “Thanks,” he muttered, still not fully meeting her eyes.

Kinjal smiled to herself, feeling a small sense of satisfaction. He’s still sulking, but this should help.

They started walking again, side by side, each lost in their own thoughts as they licked their ice creams. The silence was no longer uncomfortable, but it wasn’t exactly warm either.