Chapter 4: Confessions and Close Calls

6

[Okay, I’ll eat my chappal.]

[This unfamiliar, deliberately avoiding vibe feels off.]

[Oh, Kabir turned off the lights.]

[Is there anything my premium subscription can’t see]

Actually, nothing happened.

Kabir curled up on the floor, wrapped in a thin blanket, breathing softly.

I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep.

Because this bed was too noisy.

Just rolling over made it groan.

I used to complain about it to him, even as I teased,

“Kabir, don’t… take it easy.”

When we were young, it was day and night.

Now, even turning over.

Creak.

And I remembered.

I wasn’t the only one.

Kabir slipped out, wearing only a grey T-shirt, and stepped onto the balcony, closing the door quietly.

In the neon night, he lit a cigarette.

When I met him, he didn’t smoke—always the good boy.

Now, he still didn’t. Just lit it.

Not far off, headlights swept the street.

Kabir bumped into Arjun, just arriving.

“Delivering cake,” Arjun explained, peeking through the window.

He saw the two beds, one on the floor, one on the bed, untouched.

He smirked.

“No choice,” Arjun said, “she’s too clingy.”

Even when we barely spoke, Arjun needed to make himself relevant.

“She’s wanted it for ages, insisted I buy it, wouldn’t accept it from anyone else.”

“She’ll see it in the morning, be so touched.”

“Hey,” Arjun looked up, “you wouldn’t get it—I’m her first love.”

“Really?”

Kabir finally replied.

“Why would I lie?” Arjun said, “She’s only here to get me back.”

That cake.

I never saw it, even when I woke up.

The livestream ended.

For the first time, all four of us sat together for the post-show interview.

I was late, the last to arrive.

The staff handed me a headset.

My freshly washed hair was too silky and kept slipping off.

On the other side, Priya and Arjun were drawing Q&A cards.

I bent my head.

The headset slipped.

But the hand beside me caught it fast.

“Thank you.”

I tried to take it from Kabir.

But he didn’t let go. Instead, he helped me put it on.

While fixing it, he adjusted it gently.

It was just a practical gesture.

After all, the camera and crew were there.

“It’s stuck,” he said.

Between my hair and the headset.

He had to lean in.

Across the room, Arjun’s eyes darted between us, his voice drifting over.

A routine gesture—

If not for Kabir subconsciously kissing my hair.

The scent was too familiar.

I rarely change my habits—even now, my shampoo is the same.

The scent he used to use to wash.

The room went quiet. A pen dropped. Somewhere, a phone vibrated against wood. Even the lights seemed to buzz louder.

Arjun jumped up.

Kabir drew back, polite and restrained:

“Sorry, accidentally brushed you.”

The director snapped the tension: “Happens all the time, let’s move on.”

It was just a second, over in a blink.

So quick, Arjun might not have seen it clearly.

He sat down again.

Q&A game.

When my turn came, I picked the first love card.

The director asked, “Is your first love your greatest love?”

Arjun propped his head, all laziness gone, eyes on me.

Everyone watched, expecting me to say Arjun.

“Yes.”

When I answered, Arjun straightened, glancing at Kabir, a little smug.

But Kabir was lost in thought.

He turned away, staring at the drizzle.

The window reflected my face.

“Same question,” the director said, “for Kabir.”

He and I were paired.

The card questions matched.

Priya wasn’t his first love.

No one knew who was.

“She’s annoying, really annoying.”

Kabir’s voice was soft, almost wounded.

Everyone leaned in, hungry for gossip.

“So much resentment,” the director teased, “what did she do?”

“For example,” Kabir said, voice low and slow, “marrying someone else, but saying her greatest love is me.”

It didn’t make sense to anyone else.

But Arjun frowned.

The director flipped the last card.

“Meera, what would you say to your first love now?”

A hundred safe answers flickered through my head.

But I said,

“I hope he doesn’t hate me too much.”

It sounded reasonable.

Everyone assumed I meant Arjun.

Arjun’s old laziness came back. He raised his eyebrows, ready to string me along, not giving me any way out.

But when Kabir’s turn came, he said, “I just lied to her, I don’t hate her.”

He met my eyes, and for a second, the years between us vanished.

For the first time, Arjun’s mask slipped. I saw confusion flicker in his eyes—and maybe, just maybe, a hint of fear.

I looked down, twisting Amma’s silver payal around my ankle, hoping no one saw my blush.