Page 106 of Entangled Vows

“Home.”

“What? We still have the Mayfair meeting and the Mason contract to sign,” Mohit said, his voice sharp with confusion.

Vikram nodded. “I know. You stay and handle it. Please.”

Mohit crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing. “What’s going on? Did something happen between you and Mahi?”

“No,” Vikram replied.

“Then why the sudden change of plans?”

There was a pause. Vikram looked at him steadily. “Because I need to see her.”

Mohit tilted his head, not satisfied. “And?”

“And nothing,” Vikram said. “I haven’t slept properly since I got here. I feel like hell. And I’m not going to justify to you why I need to leave to see my fucking wife.”

Mohit exhaled, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “I’m not saying anything. But you know how this looks, right? Walking out like this… Dylan and his team will think you’re not serious about this deal.”

“I don’t care what Dylan thinks,” Vikram snapped angrily. “You’re my co-CEO. You can handle this. I trust you.”

He grabbed his blazer from the chair and shrugged it on, his mind already miles away.

Mohit studied him for a beat longer, then nodded. “Alright. But if you have screwed things up with Mahi and that’s why you’re leaving, then—”

“I haven’t,” Vikram cut in, his tone cold and final. “Don’t start.”

Mohit shot back, unfazed. “Good. Because if you had, I’d make sure you regretted it every single day of your life. My sister puts on a brave face, but she’s not as strong as she pretends to be.”

“I’m not the villain you think I am. Don’t worry about her.” Vikram looked Mohit square in the eye, then opened the door.

And just like that, he was gone. Down the hallway, into the car, already thinking of the things he was going to say and do to his wife. This wasn’t just a return trip anymore. It was a reckoning. He was done pretending. He was going home. To his wife. And to the woman he missed like his very next breath.

∞∞∞

Mahika had just finished work and was driving home, the city lights fading in her rearview mirror. The day had been long and draining, and all she wanted now was something simple: a plate of dal-rice with crisp papad, followed by a mug of hot cocoa, while she curled up on the couch and tried to get some writing done.

But home was still twenty-five minutes away.

She was tired, having been sick for the past two days. Not that anyone knew. It was just a stomach bug, most likely from the overly spicy momos she had eaten with Ishika during one of their impulsive late-night binges when she’d been feeling low. She’d thrown up terribly that night, leaving her utterly drained. Her stomach still felt a bit unsettled, though it was better than before. And though she’d taken her medicines, her body still felt weak and her head heavy. Maybe it was the meds. Or maybe she was just pushing herself too hard.

She glanced at the dashboard. The digital clock blinked 10:47 p.m.

It was late. The silence in the car felt too loud, and her thoughts too messy. She should’ve left work earlier, should have been home by now. Her hands tightened on the steering wheel, her knuckles turning pale against the smooth leather. She had gone back to work today only to keep herself distracted, to stop overthinking about Vikram’s silence, and to remind herself that this marriage was supposed to be temporary. And that just because they’d slept together, it didn’t have to mean anything monumental.

She exhaled sharply and adjusted the rearview mirror. Her fingers began tapping an anxious rhythm on the steering wheel, trying to chase away the unease curling in her chest, as the long, empty road stretched ahead in front of her. She didn’t know if the restlessness stemmed from missing her husband or from being sick. But before her scattered thoughts could figure it out, the car jerked violently, followed by a loud sputter.

Her sucked in a sharp breath as it lurched forward again with a jolt. She pressed the accelerator, but nothing happened. She tried again. Still nothing. The engine coughed once more, sputtered, and then died completely.

“Shit,” she muttered, as anxiety crept up inside her.

She tried restarting the car, but it clicked uselessly, refusing to come alive. With a shaky breath, she yanked the handbrake and sat frozen for a second, her hands clenching around the wheel. She debated getting out and checking what was wrong, even though she knew next to nothing about cars. Still… doingsomethingwould be better than doing nothing at all.

First, she grabbed her phone from the dashboard and tapped on the screen. There was no network.

Her brows furrowed in absolute confusion.

Why the heck was there no network?This was her usual route. Isolated, yes, but there hadneverbeen a network issue here before.