Shobhana's POV

"I'll see you at the wedding, yeah?" I ask, my voice a little shaky as I try to hold it together. Shubman's standing just a few feet away, his hands tucked into his pockets, but the distance between us feels endless.

He nods, a small frown tugging at his lips. I can tell he's frustrated. "Can you not stay for just a little longer? Like after the playoffs? We can... I don't know, make up for the time?" he asks, his eyes pleading, trying to convince me to change my mind.

I shake my head. "Unfortunately, I can't. I've got some things I need to take care of. I'm sorry," I answer, but even as I say it, I'm fighting the urge to just say fuck it and stay with him. 

Then, suddenly, our flight number is announced over the loudspeaker. Reality hits me. This is it. Time to leave.

"This is it," I murmur, and Shubman just looks at me with those sad, gorgeous eyes that make it hard to breathe.

"Fuck it," he mutters under his breath, and before I can react, he pulls me into a kiss. His lips are firm and warm, and I let myself melt into him, just for a moment. 

When we pull apart, he rests his forehead against mine. His eyes are intense, full of everything I feel at this moment.

"I love you," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

"I love you too," he replies, his voice low, raw, and full of meaning.

I'm trying not to cry. I don't want to cry. Not now, not like this. I take a shaky breath before turning to Ishan, who's standing a few feet away with Kriti.

"You two, drop a message in our group chat after you land, alright?" he says with that familiar teasing tone of his. I'm thankful for the distraction, but it doesn't make the ache in my chest go away.

"Goodbye," I mutter, my voice cracking, before pulling Ishan into a hug. I feel his arms wrap around me, and I almost want to cling to him, but I know I can't.

The next moment, I turn to Shubman one last time. His hand brushes mine, and I feel the electricity between us, but I know I have to leave.

"Goodbye," I say again, giving him a tight smile. I can tell he's holding back too, but I turn and walk toward the gate with Kriti.

As soon as we settle into our seats on the plane, I glance at Kriti. She's quietly sobbing, her eyes red. I feel the sting in my own eyes, but I bite my lip, pushing the tears down. I can't let her see me cry. Not now.

I slide my hand over to hers, squeezing gently. "It's going to be okay, Kriti," I murmur, trying to comfort her as best I can. "We'll see them soon, alright?"

She looks at me, blinking away her tears, but she nods, giving me a weak smile. I smile back, but it doesn't quite reach my eyes.

About an hour later, Kriti falls asleep against the window, and I'm left alone with my thoughts. I open Pinterest, scrolling aimlessly through pictures, trying to distract myself, but it doesn't work. Every photo I see reminds me of him.

I sigh and plug in my headphones, blasting some music to drown out the ache in my chest.

The flight passes faster than I expect, and before I know it, we've landed in Bangalore. After about thirty minutes, we grab a taxi and head home.

It's 10 PM when I walk through the front door. The house is empty—my brother's out of town, so I have the place to myself.

I kick off my shoes, the sound echoing through the empty house. The silence feels... strange. I feel like something's missing, but I can't quite put my finger on it.

I grab my phone from my bag and text the group chat as I sit down on my bed, scrolling through the messages.

FANTASTIC 4

SHOBI: just reached

KIT KAT: same

ISHU: glad to hear

SHUB: we'll see you at the weddingSHOBI: of course!

I toss my phone on the desk and lay back on the bed, but I can't keep still. I get up again, pacing around for a moment before realizing I need to submit my photos tomorrow. I groan and pull my laptop from the desk, plugging in the camera.

While I'm transferring files, I come across one particular picture that makes me smile. It's one of Shubman—him smiling at the camera after one of the practice sessions with the boys, looking completely perfect and carefree. The kind of picture that makes you fall in love even harder.

I print it out before finding a frame to put it in. Being a photography student, I've got all sorts of frames lying around—different sizes,and  different styles. I pick a simple black one, slide the picture in, and place it carefully in my cupboard, out of sight but not far from my mind.

I stand there for a moment, staring at the framed photo, and then I sigh. Damn it. I miss him already.

"Love makes you crazy," I mutter to myself, but I don't feel crazy. I feel... good. For the first time in a while, I feel right.

I go downstairs and make a quick, light dinner, the whole time thinking about him. As I eat, I half-watch Teen Wolf—the characters always make me laugh, but tonight, nothing can distract me from the emptiness in my chest.

After a few hours, I finish the season I was watching and head back to my room, my head buzzing from the thought of him. I pick up a book and start reading, but it's not long before my eyelids grow heavy.

As I fall asleep, my last thought is of Shubman. I can't wait to see him again.