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“Look, that’s the problem with Gen Z women. They don’t just feel things—they analyse them. Like technology. And they say it out loud. We millennials? We keep the humiliation internal, where it belongs.”

Shaurya didn’t respond. Which meant Varun was just getting warmed up.

“So,” Varun grinned, “the only way to erase a memory of a bad kiss is to replace it with a better one. I mean… there will be a second kiss, won’t there?”

Shaurya froze. Just for a second.

Varun’s eyes sparkled. “Oh, come on. I’msurethere’ll be a second time.”

Shaurya looked like someone had handed him a baby and told him to raise it. He was that flustered. “Shut up, Varun. It was a mistake. It wasn’t even intentional.”

“But the next one will be,” Varun said, lounging back smugly. “And now that you’ve been publicly branded as Flip Phone 1.0, you kinda owe yourself a do-over.”

Shaurya shook his head, frustrated. Then his jaw tightened. “You’re missing the best part, though. Yesterday, when I met her grandfather, he straight-up blamed me for his fall down the stairs. Said he lost his balance because of something I said the night before.”

Varun’s mouth fell open in disbelief. “Wait—he what?”

“Yeah. Full dramatic performance,” Shaurya said with a humourless laugh. “So I flipped it on him. Told him if I’m to blame, I’ll take full responsibility for it and check on him daily, help him recover. You should have seen his face. You’d think I just offered him boiled broccoli for dessert.”

Varun sat up, clearly more entertained than shocked. “Man, you agreed to check up on her grandfather.Daily?What were you even thinking? So, let me get this straight… you did this because you didn’t want him to have the last word?”

Shaurya shrugged, his mouth twitching just a wee bit. “He tried to blame me for his fall, so I played my card. Now, he has to see the guy he hates, ME, every day in his own house. It’s genius, really.”

Varun gave him a deadpan look. “Oh, oh. So, this isn’t about being near Nandini, right?”

Shaurya rolled his eyes, but the smirk on his lips gave him away.

Varun pointed a finger at him in his usual dramatic flair. “Busted.”

“Shut up and let me work,” Shaurya grumbled, pulling the laptop back onto his lap.

But just as he opened it, his gaze drifted.

Across the pool.

Past the mango tree.

Straight to the balcony of the Raichand Villa.

And there she was.

Nandini, fresh from a shower, was patting her damp hair dry with a towel. She wore a beautiful lime-green salwar suit, the kind that clung lovingly to her frame in the breeze. Her skin glowed under the late morning sun, sunkissed and golden, and for a full three seconds, Shaurya forgot how to breathe. She looked effortlessly radiant, like she’d just stepped out of a shampoo commercial designed to haunt men like Shaurya for days.

As if sensing his gaze, she suddenly looked up. And everything stilled as their eyes locked. From across the garden, through the haze of pride and mango leaves, they just looked at each other.

Then, slowly, her hand lifted in a wave.

Shaurya’s heart kicked into high gear. He lifted his own hand, ready to wave back.

“That’s for me, dude,” Varun said, casually lifting his arm and waving back at Nandini enthusiastically.

Shaurya blinked. “What?”

“She’s waving at me.” Varun grinned, his hand still fluttering in a wave.

Shaurya snapped at him, shocked. “Why areyouwaving at her?”

“Why not? We’re friends now too,” Varun said innocently.