Page 77 of Drunk On Love

I stayed focused on the coffee machine, punching buttons like it might reveal an escape hatch.

“Why would she stay?” I said quietly.

“Manav, enough!” Meeta snapped. “What is wrong with you? You know she liked you.”

I sighed, stepping away from the machine before I threw it out the window. “So what?” I muttered. “People don’t stay—not just because they like me.”

I flipped open my laptop, pretending to read through emails—any excuse to avoid eye contact, to dodge the pity clingingto the air.

Meeta exhaled sharply, then crossed the space between us and pulled me into a hug—sisterly, warm, and completely unwelcome. “Can I make you some coffee?”

“No. Just leave me alone.” My voice came out calm, flat, and detached—Controlled. Like always.

She lingered for a moment, then whispered something to Kartik on her way out. I didn’t hear it. Maybe I didn’t want to.

I buried myself in half-written replies and flagged emails I’d never send, until finally, I shut the laptop with a snap, as if closing it might silence everything I didn’t want to feel.

When I looked up, Kartik was still there—arms folded, gaze steady, face a quiet mix of confusion and concern.

“What?” I snapped. “Don’t you have work to do instead of staring at me?”

He didn’t flinch.

I got up, walked to the fridge, and pulled out a beer. The cold against my fingers felt grounding, even if it did nothing to quiet the chaos inside me.

“You don’t drink in the mornings,” Kartik said cautiously, eyes flicking from the bottle to my face.

“Rules don’t apply when nothing makes sense,” I muttered, twisting the cap like I needed it to scream for me.

Kartik’s gaze darkened. “Manav… the last time you had alcohol before breakfast was two years ago. When Shivanya left.”

“Stop. Talking.” My voice dropped, low and dangerous. My grip on the bottle tightened like it was the only thing keeping me from falling apart.

“Why?” Kartik pressed, gentler now but still firm. He dropped onto the stool across from me, arms folded. “Younever talked about what happened. You buried it. You shut everyone out. And now it’s happening again. I’m not just going to sit here and watch you destroy yourself over another goodbye you didn’t see coming.”

“This conversation isn’t helping either,” I muttered, pressing the cold bottle to my forehead.

Kartik didn’t answer right away. He stared out the window, the silence stretching before he finally spoke. “Do you remember when you beat the crap out of me in London?”

“Yeah. You want to return the favor?” I replied flatly, still staring at the counter.

“No. Remind me why you did it.”

“I don’t have time for nonsense.”

“You flew across continents just to punch me. Doesn’t sound like nonsense.”

“You needed an intervention,” I snapped. “You needed a fucking friend to tell you—”

I stopped, hand clenching so hard I could feel the glass strain in my grip.

“Tell me what, Manav?”

“That you don’t get to hurt every person in your orbit just because you’re scared!” My voice rose, thick with fury. “And you especially don’t get to hurt someone who loves you so damn much—”

“Go on,” Kartik said, eyes locked on mine. “Say it.”

“And you need to tell people how you feelbeforeyou push them away. Before you assume the worst. You were hurting because you were too damn afraid to admit you loved Meeta. And if you ever hurt her again, I will break your nose—again.”