The plan was simple.
One quiet evening, two coffees, maybe a stolen kiss if the stars behaved.
But life with Vashti Dhiman never stayed simple.
It exploded.
---
They were walking down the footpath after the café closed, shoulders bumping, conversation slow and lazy.
"You're smiling too much," she teased.
"You're not punching me for once," he shot back.
"I might later."
"I'd deserve it."
She stopped. "Why did you ghost me?"
Shabd exhaled. The question again. And this time, he didn't dodge it.
"I was scared."
"Of what?"
"You. Us. The way you made me feel—like I could be more than just someone in a lab coat. I wasn't ready to be seen like that."
She went quiet.
"I was just a kid to you," she muttered.
"No," he said firmly. "You were everything. That's what scared me."
The silence between them was thick—until Vashti took a step forward, grabbing his collar and whispering—
"Then stop running."
And kissed him.
Their first kiss.
Rough. Beautiful. Years of pain packed into one second.
But just as her fingers slipped into his hair—
Her phone buzzed.
She groaned, pulling away, checking the screen… then froze.
"What?" Shabd asked.
She held it up.
A picture. Of them.
Together. Just now.
From a blocked number.
Caption:
"Thought you were smarter than this, Dr. Dhiman."
Her stomach flipped. "What the hell…"
Shabd took the phone, face hardening. "Who would—?"
Another message.
"Tell your boyfriend to be careful. Would be a shame if his shiny career took a hit."
Vashti's blood ran cold.
"Someone's watching us," she whispered. "And they want to ruin you."
Or worse… ruin them both.
And just like that—
Their moment shattered.
Now it wasn't just about love.
It was about survival.
---