Samaira Lakshmi Deshpande is caught between two worlds, two masks. Amidst the hunt for her missing twin and the pressure to fit her family's mold of the perfect daughter facade, she's trapped in a life she despises.
Everything shifts when a strange...
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Bangalore, India September
Aryan's POV
Amaira and I stare into each other's eyes for a few seconds before she breaks away from the gaze with a tinge of blush on her cheeks.
I cleared my throat to gain the couple's attention, "Okay, love birds. Cut it. I am hungry." I stroll beside Zia where all the takeaway dinner is placed in containers.
Akash and Zia giggle like teenagers at my comment. We all pitch in to arrange the takeaway dinner, with Akash and Zia handling the main course, and I taking charge of the plates and glasses.
As I turn, I catch Amaira's hesitation near the now-empty kitchen slab. Sensing her uncertainty, I request, "Can you help me grab some ladles and spoons?" I motion towards the cabinet above my head, and she agrees with a nod.
She stops a foot from me. There's a fleeting moment where our eyes lock again. Her brows furrow, "You should move you know." She quips with a tight smile and my ears turn pink realizing my stupidity.
"Right," I mumble, sidestepping away from her with the plates and glasses to my chest. She nods her head at me, eyes amused at my behaviour as she stands on her tippy toes to reach the cabinet. She is not short she is taller than average women, even taller than Zia, but the cabinets are a bit high for her.
The kurta she is wearing slightly inches up at her stretched form revealing her skin a little as she reaches for the spatula and ladles deep inside and I quickly avert my gaze.
What is wrong with me?
Why am I staring at her like that?
I have never been so intrigued by a woman I barely know.
This is wrong. So so wrong.
Aryan. Stop it. This is not you. What if she catches you watching her and takes it in the wrong way? I tell myself as I shake my head to knock the feeling off my chest I feel towards the woman I barely know.
But I can't help it.
The way she behaves it's like there is more to it than she is letting it show.
She makes me curious.
She has lingered in my mind, whether consciously or unconsciously, since that day in the street.
My thoughts come to a halt as she asks, "Spoons?" Her eyes dart around the kitchen in search, holding two ladles and a spatula in her left hand. I clear my suddenly dry throat, my words scratchy as they leave my lips, "There," nodding towards the drawer directly below the cabinet. She pulls it out, scoops out a couple of spoons, bumps her hip against it, and closes it back.
I follow her out of the kitchen to see Zia arranging the dinner on the living room floor, with the television turned on and Akash nowhere to be seen.
"Where is he?" I direct the question towards Zia who seems to be searching for something. Presumably the Remote. I keep the plates and glasses down and Amaira follows suit placing the spoons in each plate except the last one dipping the ladles into the curry and giving them a mix.
