We had a meeting scheduled with Rahul Sir, so I took a deep breath and made my way towards his room. As I approached, a mix of anxiety and hope swirled in my stomach. I knocked on the door, and it was Rinku Bhai who opened it. He greeted me with a warm smile, and I couldn't help but smile back, despite the nervousness gnawing at me.

"Come in," he said, stepping aside to let me enter.

Inside, the room was filled with the familiar faces of my teammates. I spotted Hardik Bhai and quickly took a seat next to him. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation; even the standbys were present, awaiting Rahul Sir's announcement.

Rahul Sir cleared his throat and began, "The probability of the players playing for the India vs Ireland match is as follows: Rohit Sharma, Yashasvi, Virat, Rishabh, Suryakumar Yadav, Shivam Dube, Hardik, Ravindra Jadeja, Kuldeep Yadav, Jasprit Bumrah, and Arshdeep Singh."

My heart sank. I wasn't in the playing eleven. I clung to a thin thread of hope that I might at least be among the substitutes.

"And the substitutes," Rahul Sir continued, "Axar, Sanju, and Yuzi."

It felt like a punch to the gut. I wasn't in the playing eleven nor among the substitutes. I forced a smile and congratulated my teammates, trying to mask my disappointment. Yash approached me, his eyes full of concern.

"Bhai, can I really take your position?" he asked hesitantly.

I took a deep breath, fighting to keep my voice steady. "Yash, that's not my position. You are an amazing opener. Just play for the country, Yash. Give it your best."

He nodded, and I managed a genuine smile for him before walking out of the room. The weight of my unspoken frustration and disappointment grew heavier with each step. When I reached my room, I headed straight for the balcony, needing some fresh air to clear my head.

Staring out at the city, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was responsible for my own downfall. I hadn't led my team to the playoffs during the IPL. My individual runs had been insufficient, and my contributions to the team were minimal. How could I expect to be trusted with the country's opening position when my recent performance had been so lackluster?

Regret gnawed at me. My performance had undeniably dropped from the previous IPL to this one, and I hadn't practiced as much as I should have. It was all my fault. The pressure and confusion were overwhelming, and I desperately needed a break from all this turmoil.

But then, what if an opportunity to play came my way? What if Rahul Sir decided to give me a chance against another team? What if I needed to replace someone? These thoughts swirled in my mind, causing even more unrest.

I felt so lost and desperately needed someone to talk to, someone whose advice I could trust. But who? Sara? No, she was already stressed about the player health report that needed to be submitted to the ICC. Papa? He would just worry about me and add to my burden.

Shahneel Di? Absolutely not. She would feel guilty, thinking she was to blame for my distractions.

I groaned in frustration, unable to pinpoint a single person who could offer me the solace and advice I craved. The feeling of being trapped in my own thoughts was unbearable.

"Aghhhh!" I yelled out in frustration, hoping the release would somehow lighten the load on my shoulders.

I stood there, on the balcony, watching the city lights flicker as I wrestled with my thoughts and emotions. The weight of my worries felt almost too much to bear.

I was sitting in the restaurant area, absorbed in preparing the players' reports. The ambient noise of chatter and clinking cutlery filled the air, but I remained focused, ensuring every detail was accurate. As the meeting upstairs ended, I watched everyone come down, their faces a mix of anticipation and relief. I scanned the group, but there was no sign of Shub. My heart skipped a beat.

"Vi bhai, where is Shub?" I asked, hoping Virat bhai would know.

Virat bhai seemed distracted, his eyes distant. "He's right here," he replied absentmindedly.

I frowned. Shub was clearly not with the group. Concern started to gnaw at me. I decided to look for him, starting near the pool and then the gym area, but he was nowhere to be found. Finally, I headed towards our room and found the door slightly ajar. I pushed it open and saw Shub standing in the balcony, lost deep in his thoughts, staring into the distance.

Quietly, I approached him and gently asked, "Hey baby, what happened?"

Shub blinked, snapping out of his reverie. "N-nothing. Just thinking about the match," he said, but I could tell he was lying. His voice lacked conviction.

"Stop lying to me, Shub," I insisted, my tone soft but firm.

He turned to me, his eyes filled with a mixture of frustration and sadness. "I am not lying, Sara. Come on, let's have dinner," he said, trying to deflect.

With a sigh, I reluctantly followed him to the dining area. Though I knew he loved me deeply, his reluctance to share his emotions with me was frustrating. Why did he always bottle things up?

We sat down for dinner, and I couldn't hold back anymore. I leaned in and whispered, "Don't you love me?"

Shub frowned, taken aback. "Of course I love you. Why are you asking me that?" he whispered back, his eyes searching mine for an explanation.

"Then why aren't you telling me what happened?" I asked, my voice tinged with worry.

Shub sighed heavily and whispered, "I will tell you later, when we are alone."

I nodded, knowing I had to be patient. Dinner continued, but his mind was elsewhere, lost in a sea of thoughts. Rinku bhai's mood seemed off as well, adding to the somber atmosphere. After dinner, we returned to our room. Shub sat on the bed, his shoulders slumped. "Not selected even as a substitute for the India vs Ireland match," he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

I cupped his face in my hands, looking into his eyes. "I know it hurts you, baby. But sometimes this happens, and you need to cope with it," I said softly, trying to offer comfort.

Shub nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips as I kissed his nose. "Go and change into your pyjamas. You have practice tomorrow."

He nodded again and went to change. I followed suit, changing into my pyjamas and doing my skincare routine. When I climbed into bed, I snuggled up to Shub. It was the best feeling, his arms wrapping around me, providing a sense of safety and love.

"Goodnight, Shub," I whispered, closing my eyes with a smile. Despite the day's disappointments, being in his arms made everything seem a little bit better. As I drifted off to sleep, I hoped tomorrow would bring him some peace and clarity.