Page 45 of The Pursuit
We arrived at the safe house. It had a cosy living room, a basic kitchenette, and two bedrooms on the ground level, with a terrace and a small gym room situated upstairs. My team quickly secured the premises, and we all settled inside. Kailash and Bhaskar uncle took one of the bedrooms, while Ayaan insisted that Trisha and Meher take the other, leaving Ayaan and me to bunk down on the small living room couch.
But just as Ayaan said that, Trisha spoke up. “You and Meher take the bedroom. Krish and I will be fine here on the couch.”
I was stunned, my gaze immediately snapping to Trisha. Was she truly suggesting that we share the sofa? The prospect thrilled me.
Ayaan seemed equally perplexed, hesitating to accept Trisha’s offer. “But—”
“Trisha is just doing her job, buddy,” I interjected, surprising even myself with my eagerness to back up her proposal.
Trisha shot me a grateful look before addressing Ayaan again. “The Boss agrees. Sofa it is for me and him.”
With some reluctance, Ayaan and Meher finally agreed, retiring to the bedroom and leaving Trisha and me alone in the small living area.
An awkward silence settled between us as we busied ourselves with arranging the couch for the night. As I brewed the coffee in the small kitchenette next tothe living room, I couldn’t help but steal glances at Trisha. She had just unbuckled her gun holster and put it aside. She then let her hair down from the ponytail and unleashed her beautiful curls. I was instantly mesmerised. Trisha made her way to the washroom, and emerged a few minutes later, dabbing her face to alleviate any signs of exhaustion. Unable to resist, I offered her a freshly brewed cup of coffee.
“Umm. I missed your coffee,” she said, sipping the coffee, her eyes widening as if surprised by her own words. The memory of our time in Singapore flooded back—the mornings we spent together, me brewing the perfect cup of coffee for us, adding that extra touch of cocoa powder on top. Those were some of the happiest moments I’d ever experienced.
Trisha quickly averted her eyes, trying to walk away, but I gently held her hand, stopping her.
“What else did you miss?” I asked, my heart racing.
The pain on Trisha’s face was noticeable, but she hid it effectively. She looked down, and I took the opportunity to continue. “At least tell me why you apologised, so I can rest in peace.”
“Stop talking like that, Krish. I don’t like it,” she said, hitting my chest gently, her eyes now filled with anger.
“Your list of‘don’t like’is getting longer day by day,” I replied with a smirk. “You don’t like me following you, you don’t like me showing affection towards you, you don’t like me getting close to you, and most importantly, the first one on the list... you don’t like me at all.”
“Did I ever say that?” she frowned. “Stop putting words in my mouth.”
“Not my fault. I like feeding you,” I winked, the tensionbetween us heightened. Realising the double meaning of my words, I quickly clarified, “I mean, there were times when I fed you food in Singapore. Remember?”
Trisha rolled her eyes. “I should have let you and Ayaan sleep together tonight. I was better with Meher inside.”
She sipped her coffee and settled down on the couch, pretending to frown. I sat down beside her, snatching the coffee mug from her hand, and taking a sip. She didn’t mind.
“So? Why did you send that text to me?” I asked again, the seriousness returning to her expression.
“I had to apologise to you for everything, right?” she queried. “I broke your heart.”
“And you think an apology can fix it?
“You’ll get the closure you need, at least. Move on, Krish,” she argued.
“Have you?” I probed, putting the coffee mug away.
“Krish, don’t do this. Please. You know we two have no future together.”
“Says who?”
“Your father,” she blurted out, and my heart skipped a beat.
My father!What did my father have to do with this? The way Trisha’s own expression changed, it was clear that she hadn’t meant to revealthat information. There was more to this than she was letting on, and I was determined to get to the bottom of it.
CHAPTER 17 (In your Arms)
TRISHA
“My father?” Krish asked, sounding confused as to why I had brought up his name. I wasn’t prepared to answer his question or dig up the old graves that I thought had been buried for good.
