Pashmina moved through her morning activities like a sloth, and Shubman could tell she was doing it intentionally to avoid the conversation. He prepared breakfast, ate, and took a quick bath, while she seemed to stretch every task to last as long as possible.

Shubman closed his eyes, trying to control his impatience. He knew this was a sensitive matter, but he also realized he needed to be a little firm. If he didn't push her gently, she might never open up. Taking a deep breath, he reminded himself to be patient yet resolute.

As he sat on the couch, Shubman noticed Pashmina walking slowly up the stairs for a bath. Leaning forward, he placed his palms on the edge of the sofa and spoke, his voice gentle yet firm to convey his seriousness. "Pashmina, I can see what you're doing. I'll sit here all day if I have to, but you can't escape this conversation."

Pashmina bit her tongue, knowing she had to face the conversation eventually. Without looking back at Shubman, she nodded and hurried to the bathroom. As the hot water from the shower hit her skin, it awakened a sense of courage within her. She couldn't say no to Shubman; he had his own life and responsibilities, yet he was here for her. She realized she couldn't let him down any longer.

Once she finished her shower, Pashmina quickly dried off and dressed in a lilac kurti and palazzo. Her hair was still dripping, leaving small droplets on her shoulders. As she moved downstairs, she looked around, confused when she couldn't find Shubman.

"Shubman, where are you?" she called out softly, her voice echoing in the quiet house.

Pashmina waited for a moment, her heart racing slightly at the silence. Just as she was about to call out again, Shubman's voice rang out from the backyard. "Here, Mina! Come!"

Relieved, she hurried toward the sound, stepping outside to find him sitting on the patio, surrounded by potted plants.

He had a blanket draped around him and, noticing the chill in the air opened it invitingly.

With a smile, Pashmina took quick steps toward him, slipping off her slippers before cuddling against his side.

Pashmina's teeth chattered slightly as the wind blew through the valleys, her wet hair adding to the chill. Shubman, noticing her discomfort, pulled her closer and wrapped his arms tightly around her. The warmth of his body and the blanket enveloped her, making her feel safe and normal again.

"Is that better?" he asked, his voice gentle as he adjusted the blanket around them.

Pashmina nodded, feeling warm despite the chilling weather. Shubman looked down at her, his expression encouraging. "So, shall we start?" he asked gently, ready to listen.

Pashmina rested her head on Shubman's shoulder, closing her eyes and smiling as she recalled some beautiful memories. "Karan Thappar, USC ka sabse handsome ladka," she said, her voice light and nostalgic.

Shubman felt a pang of jealousy but quickly masked it, not wanting to interrupt her flow or healing process. "Karan Thappar?" he asked, keeping his tone curious and supportive. "What about him?"

Pashmina smiled at the memory, her eyes still closed. "He was my first crush in university. He had this charming smile and was always so confident. Everyone adored him, and I was no exception."

Shubman nodded, trying to maintain a calm expression. "Sounds like he made quite an impression on you."

Pashmina chuckled softly. "He did. I remember how I used to daydream about him. I would have silly conversations with him in my dreams and get butterflies in my stomach whenever he smiled at me."

Pashmina continued, her expression turning slightly pouty. "But being an introvert never really helped. I had confidence, but I could never get attached to people. And when I did, it was like my chattering would be non-stop, as if I was trying to make up for lost time."

"So, what's your story?" Shubman asked, gulping as he tried to suppress the lump forming in his throat.

"He was a student who came mid-term, and when I first saw him enter the classroom, I knew my wicket was rattled," Pashmina continued, a shy smile creeping onto her face. "He had this effortless charm and confidence that caught everyone's attention, including mine."

Shubman raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "So, what happened next?"

"Well, there was an empty seat next to me," Pashmina continued, narrowing her eyes as if reliving the moment, "but he chose a third seat next to the college mean girl. Not exactly a mean girl, but she had an attitude. It was like a typical romantic setup."

Shubman chuckled, intrigued by her storytelling. "So, what happened next?"

Pashmina sighed her expression a mix of amusement and frustration. "I was baffled! I thought, 'Really? You're going to sit there?' It felt like a scene straight out of a movie, and I felt like the background character."

"But that also made you more interesting," Shubman said, trying to encourage her. "You had a front-row seat to the drama."

"True," she replied with a smile, appreciating his perspective. "It was hard not to watch, especially when they started flirting right in front of me. I felt like I was in a love triangle—except there was no triangle, just me feeling invisible."

"But you know, when he turned around to interact with more students, his eyes landed on me, and I was bowled over again, like in the second innings of a test match," she said, biting her lips, a smile creeping onto her face.

"And did he give you attention this time?" Shubman asked, his voice lower, jealousy creeping into his tone.

Pashmina shook her head, frowning. "No, he didn't. He just checked me out and turned back around, but..." She paused, her expression shifting as she recalled the moment. "It felt different. For that brief second, I thought maybe I existed in his world."

Shubman's heart ached a little more, but he encouraged her to continue. "But what?"

Pashmina looked up at Shubman with a tearful smile, her eyes shining with happiness. "That look was the beginning of the best days of my life. I might have turned down my head, focusing on the book in front of me, feeling disappointed, but it sparked something in him."