Page 56 of Since You Came Along

They made their way to the dance floor, joining a handful of couples swaying to the soft melody. Raghav pulled her close, his hand settling on her waist as their steps fell into an easy rhythm.

As he twirled her, Raghav leaned in and murmured, ‘You look beautiful, Meera.’

She smiled, looping her hands around his shoulder. ‘You’ve already told me that.’

He tightened his grip, dipping her with effortless grace. When he brought her back up, his voice dropped to a whisper. ‘I wanted to do much more than that.’

Her breath caught. Was it the dip or his words that made her head spin? She wasn’t sure. Her heart raced as his hand brushed against her back, his warmth seeping through the thin fabric of her dress.

‘I still want to do much more,’ he continued.

‘You’re not the only one,’ she admitted, her eyes searching his.

His thumb grazed her cheek, a feather-light touch that sent a shiver down her spine. His smile, filled with promises, made her blush. The world around them melted away as they moved in sync.

When Raghav twirled her again, her gaze landed on a face that made her blood run cold. Rutvik. He stood just behindRaghav, speaking with the Dean, but watching her. His cold eyes bore into hers and her steps faltered.

Her heart thudded in her chest, dread seeping into her veins. Raghav noticed the change in her and turned around to follow her gaze. His jaw clenched when he saw Rutvik walking towards them.

For Meera, it had been two years since she’d been in the same room with him. Two long years, yet the sight of him was enough to bring back all the pain. She swallowed hard and managed a polite, tight-lipped smile at the Dean approaching with Rutvik, but her hands trembled.

Raghav tightened his grip on her hand, his eyes darkening with silent resolve.

Both men stopped in front of them. Meera nodded politely, acknowledging their presence, while Raghav mumbled a terse greeting.

Hemant Shah began, his tone formal yet cheerful. ‘Sorry to disturb you both, but I wanted to introduce you to Mr Rutvik Singh. He’s the owner of Plan Ahead and was in charge of today’s event. Didn’t his team do a fantastic job, Meera?’

Meera managed a small nod. ‘Yes, sir.’

Gesturing towards her with a proud smile, Shah continued, ‘This is Mrs Meera Diwan, an invaluable addition to our English department. The students adore her. And this is her husband, Mr Raghav Sareen.’

Raghav gave a polite nod at his introduction. Meera clung to his hand, her fingers entwining with his, as if drawing strength. She couldn’t say whether the gesture was meant to reassure him or herself.

As Shah stepped back, Meera let out a slow breath. But her relief was short-lived when Rutvik asked her, ‘May I have a dance with you?’

Her stomach dropped. Just as she was about to refuse politely, Shah chimed in, mistaking her reluctance for concern about decorum. ‘This evening is meant for socialising, Meera, so please go ahead.’

She glanced at Raghav and saw the concern etched plainly across his face. She gave his hand an assuring squeeze and forced a smile.

Raghav held her gaze for a beat longer, his expression hardening. He nodded reluctantly, releasing her hand. His icy glare met Rutvik, delivering a silent warning with the precision of a blade.

He stepped back with a heavy heart and positioned himself against a wall close to Meera. The sight of her in Rutvik’s arms made his gut burn with helplessness.

Rutvik held her hand, and her stomach knotted. Her eyes lingered on their joined hands, her skin crawling under his touch. She hesitated to look up, but when she did, her gaze clashed with his. The familiarity of his intense stare and the firm hold of his arm around her waist hit her like a wave. Once, that intimacy had felt good. Now, it was stifling and wrong in every way.

The music guided their steps, but Meera moved mechanically, her body following out of habit rather than desire. Their years of dance training resurfaced in their movements. Back then, she had poured herself into every moment, craving his attention. Now, those memories felt like a mockery of her former self.

‘You look beautiful tonight, Meera,’ Rutvik said, his voice low and rich.

Her response was curt. ‘Thank you, Mr Singh.’

He chuckled, the sound grating against her nerves. ‘How have you been?’

‘I’m doing well,’ she replied, her words clipped.

‘I see you got married,’ he remarked, his gaze penetrating and intense, but the effect was lost on her.

‘Yes, I did.’

---