Page 25 of Drunk On Love

Dangerous territory.

No girls. No girls of any kind.

“Wendy’s is an exotic restaurant. She gives me… well, strange hugs every time she sees me,” I continued, ignoring my phone that had been ringing for the past ten minutes. “There’s also a popular beach —it has this unique aura, feels almost divine when you walk on the sand.

There’s only one decent club around here, XO. Bella has a lovely flower shop, Orry runs a unique bookstore, and Mr. Danny and his wife live just around the corner. She makes some pretty authentic Indian food—I think you’ll like her. Doug’s gym is also quite famous around here.”

“Exactly how long have you been here?” Her head tipped to the side, watching me.

“Six months.”

And every day feels like I’m running from something I should’ve faced long ago.The Cape House.

The lawyers were ready to sell it off years ago. But I held on. I told them I wanted to visit one last time. That was six months ago. I came to Beaufort with the sole purpose of signing those papers… but I haven’t even stepped through the front door.

It's the house where I spent every summer with Mom. Where we baked together. She hummed old songs while I sat on the kitchen counter, waiting for her signature cupcakes. The same house where she’d tell me stories—about angels, bunnies, magic—and stroke my hair until I fell asleep, cocooned in her voice.

We always came here, the three of us—Mom, Dad, and me. It was our sacred tradition. Until that one summer changed everything.

That’s when I found out she’d been sick all along. The tumor had been there since the day I was born. But that summer… while baking my favorite cupcakes, she collapsed. And within a week, she was gone.

I was just ten. Too young to understand death, too old not to feel the ache of it.

I remember crying every night for a week, begging Dad to do something—anything—to make her stay. But he couldn’t. No one could. She just… disappeared. One moment, she was the sun in my world. The next, silence.

After the funeral, Dad and I flew back to India. We never spoke of the house again. We never came back.

To his credit, Dad tried. He did his best to fill the hollow space she left behind. No complaints there. But I didn’t want a replacement.

I wanted her. I needed her.

And when she left, I wasn’t just heartbroken. I was angry. Angry that people leave without warning. That they don’t come back.

So maybe that’s why I’ve been avoiding the Cape House. Maybe that’s why I still haven’t crossed that threshold. Because walking inside means acknowledging it’s real. That she’s really gone.

But I will. I will walk in. I have to. And I will say Goodbye.

Soon.

Before I could finish my thoughts, my phone rang again. I glanced at the screen—Justin.

“Sir…” Justin's voice came through, breathless.

“What?”

“Sir, Rocky Mehra is in Beaufort.”

“What?”How on earth does he know where I am?“Track him. I want to know what the hell he’s doing here.” I disconnected the call.

Kiara looked over at me. “All well?”

I wanted to lie. Say everything was fine. But my gut was already coiling with something I hadn’t felt in months—unrest. I nodded, trying to push the situation with Rocky to the back of my mind, and continued driving.

We spent the day visiting Lina’s, Wendy’s, and Bella’s. It was now night, and the entire day had felt surprisingly relaxing.

“We didn’t go to the club,” Kiara said, finishing off herfifthice cream of the evening.

“It’s been hours of roaming around… you might be tired,” but, God help me, the way she’s licking that spoon… It’s a test, right? A cosmic test of any human’s patience.