Page 11 of Since You Came Along (Ever Since #1)

T he hum of the car engine slipped in through the rolled-down windows. Meera leaned back against the seat, her gaze fixed on the moonlit road ahead. The soft glow of the dashboard illuminated her face, and the world outside whizzed by in a blur of shadows and streetlights.

His grip on the steering wheel tightened as he realised how hard it was to keep his eyes on the road when she was beside him. He liked her more than he cared to admit. The realisation made his heart race.

He focused on the radio, tapping rhythmically on the steering wheel. He skipped through stations until it landed on an old Hindi classic Abhi Na Jao Chod Kar.

The soulful melody filled the car, and Meera couldn’t resist. Raghav glanced at her and saw a small smile lingering on her lips as she hummed along. A moment later, he joined in, his deep baritone contrasting with her softer tone.

‘ Nazar zara behek toh le … ye din khatam toh ho le …’ Raghav sang, trailing off, squinting in thought.

‘ Shaam dhal toh le zara! ’ Meera corrected, her eyes crinkling in amusement.

‘Right, right!’ he nodded, undeterred. When he continued singing with the wrong lyrics, Meera burst into laughter.

‘Raghav, you’ve butchered a classic!’ she teased.

‘Hey! I’m trying, okay?’ he shot back, feigning a wounded look before breaking into a grin.

By the time the song ended, Meera was clutching her stomach in laughter. He glanced her way again, unable to help himself. Her laughter, soft and melodious, felt like a soothing balm to his weary soul.

‘You know, you sing so well,’ he said sincerely. ‘Why haven’t I ever heard you sing before?’

Her smile faded, and her gaze dropped to her lap. She remained silent for so long that Raghav couldn’t help but glance at her. He noticed how her posture had stiffened and she was playing with her wedding ring.

‘Meera?’ he prompted.

She sighed. ‘Rutvik hated it,’ she admitted, her voice almost swallowed by the hum of the car.

Raghav frowned, his hands tightening slightly on the wheel. ‘Your ex?’ he asked.

Meera nodded, her gaze still fixed on her lap. ‘He couldn’t stand it when I sang. Said I always got the notes wrong or that my timing was off. It used to frustrate him.’

Her voice wavered, and she swallowed hard before continuing. ‘Once, we were at a karaoke night with his friends. I sang, thinking it would be fun… but he was so embarrassed. He made me leave early and told me I’d ruined the evening.’

His jaw tightened, anger flickering behind his eyes, but he kept his voice even. ‘That’s… awful.’

She let out a humourless laugh. ‘Over time, his criticisms got to me. I stopped singing around him. I guess, somewhere along the way, I stopped singing altogether.’

The confession hung in the air between them, raw and painful. His chest tightened at the thought of someone chipping away at her confidence like that.

‘I’m sorry, Meera,’ he said, his voice thick with emotion. ‘That’s not how it should have been. No one should make you feel that way, least of all your partner.’

She glanced at him, her eyes shimmering tears. ‘It doesn’t matter. It’s fine.’

Raghav pulled the car to the side of the road, the engine idling as he turned to face her. His hand reached out, covering hers.

‘It matters to me. It does matter because if it makes you happy, do it. And I’d love it if you sang for me, anytime,’ he said, his voice steady and filled with conviction.

Her breath hitched, his words undoing the knot that had been tightening in her chest. For the first time in years, she felt seen, understood in a way she hadn’t allowed herself to hope for.

She managed a small smile, her hand tightening over his. ‘Thank you, Raghav, for this.’

He smiled back, his thumb brushing against her knuckles. ‘Always here for you.’

A while later, they spotted a small tea stall tucked under a flickering streetlight and stopped. The air smelled of wet earth, mingling with the sharp aroma of brewing chai . The tea vendor, a middle-aged man with a weathered face, moved with practised ease, pouring steaming liquid into clay cups.

They sat on the low stone embankment of Marine Drive. The gentle lull of waves breaking against the sea wall blended with the occasional honk of a car cruising along the quiet road.

Her phone buzzed, and she glanced at the screen. It was a message from Siya: If I die surrounded by my designs, don’t mourn me. Just know I went doing what I loved.

Meera let out a laugh so sudden and loud that she accidentally spilled some tea on her fingers.

Raghav turned to look at her. ‘Are you okay? What happened?’ he asked, concern lacing his tone as he took the cup from her hand.

Still laughing, she showed him the text. ‘Look at what Siya sent me.’

Raghav read it and let out a chuckle. ‘She has quite the dramatic flair. But designs? I thought she was a lawyer.’

‘She is, because that’s what her father wanted her to be. But her heart lies in creating designs for their family jewel business. Siya is working late nights on new designs, hoping that this upcoming launch will finally prove her talent and convince him to let her join the design team.’

He handed her the cup back, shaking his head with amusement. ‘By the way, what do you think is going on with her and Abhay?’

Meera grabbed a tissue and wiped her fingers. ‘You’ve noticed too, huh?’

‘Of course,’ Raghav said with a grin. ‘They’re anything but subtle when they’re pretending to hate each other.’

Meera smirked. ‘Siya tries to avoid him, but Abhay just stares at her like she’s the most amusing thing he’s ever seen.’

‘That’s because she is to him,’ Raghav replied. ‘I’ve never seen him act this way around anyone else. It’s like he’s made it his personal mission to annoy her. I’d give anything to know the story there.’

‘I asked Siya once,’ Meera said, sipping her tea. ‘All she said was they’ve met before and to drop it. Then she walked out of the room.’

Raghav laughed. ‘At least you got a reply. I asked Abhay, and he punched me in the shoulder. That’s his way of warning me to back off.’

‘That sounds like him,’ Meera said, shaking her head with a laugh.

By the time they decided to head back home, it was well past two in the morning. The scent of the sea mixed with the lingering promise of rain.

The breeze tugged at Meera, and she shivered. As they walked, Raghav reached out and took her hand. She didn’t pull away, too engrossed in telling him a story about how she’d chosen to be a professor.

‘And that’s when I knew teaching was what I wanted to do,’ she said, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles. ‘It just felt… right.’

‘That’s how I felt about playing the guitar. I spent most evenings practising. Abhay hated it at first, but once I dragged him to classes, he got hooked. Now he plays the piano better than I play the guitar.’

‘You two go way back, don’t you?’ Meera asked, glancing at him.

‘Yeah,’ he said, nodding. ‘He’s like a brother to me. He has been my rock through thick and thin.’

‘Abhay is a great guy,’ Meera said with a grin. ‘I like him.’

Raghav smirked. ‘He likes you too.’

‘Well, obviously. He’s smart,’ she quipped.

Before she could say more, Raghav tugged her hand, pulling her towards him. The movement caught her off guard, and she stumbled, flush against his chest. One of his arms slipped around her waist, steadying her.

‘I like you too,’ he murmured, his voice low and steady.

The world seemed to pause. The soft drizzle of rain that had started moments ago grew heavier, cold droplets landing on them. Meera could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm, strong and reassuring. Her breath hitched as she looked up at him, raindrops clinging to his hair.

She said cheekily, ‘Thank God for that. It’d be so awkward if you didn’t, considering I’m your wife.’

Raghav smirked, his burning gaze never leaving hers. ‘Is that so?’ he asked, his husky voice making her shiver with need.

Raindrops from his hair fell onto her nose and lips, and his eyes followed their path. Her breath caught as he pulled her closer, and for a moment, she wondered if time had stopped altogether.

‘Mhm.’

‘Well then,’ Raghav murmured, his voice smoky and husky as his thumb brushed along her jawline, stopping to graze her lower lip. ‘What would my wife say if I told her I really, really want to kiss her?’

Her breath hitched at the touch of his thumb pressing on her lip. The sensation sent a spark through her, spreading a warmth to her core. She felt her cheeks flush as his hooded eyes bore into hers, filled with a longing that made her heart race.

‘She’d say do it already,’ she whispered, her voice barely audible over the soft patter of rain.

That was all Raghav needed to hear. His gaze flickered to her lips before his hand cradled her cheek, his palm warm against her cool skin.

Slowly, he leaned in, closing the space between them until his lips brushed hers in a featherlight kiss.

It was tender, almost reverent, as if he were savouring the moment.

He kissed her softly at first, his lips moving with deliberate care, but his restraint was a fragile thread. He didn’t want to overwhelm her. Yet when he pulled back, his name escaped her lips in a breathless protest and the restraint snapped.

He pulled her against him, one hand tangling in her damp hair, the other slipping around her waist to hold her tighter. His lips captured hers again, this time with an urgency that set her senses ablaze. He poured every unspoken word and feeling into the demanding kiss.

Meera responded fervently, her fingers clutching his shirt, and her nails dug into his back as if she couldn’t bear to let him go.

When Raghav bit her lip, she let out a soft moan that sent shivers racing down his spine.

He groaned, deep and guttural, as the kiss deepened, their breaths mingling in the cool night air.

But then, somewhere behind them, a sharp whistle pierced the haze of their moment.

Raghav stiffened and broke the kiss, twisting to see who had interrupted. His eyes scanned the darkness, his heart hammering. Without waiting to explain, he grabbed her hand and said, ‘Run!’

‘Raghav, what—’ she began, but he didn’t let her finish.

‘Just run!’ he urged, tugging her along as they darted through the rain.

The rain was now pouring in sheets, making it difficult to see, but Raghav didn’t stop until they reached the car. He yanked the door open and gestured for her to get in. Meera slid into the passenger seat, her hair dripping water onto her face, still trying to catch her breath.

Raghav started the car and sped off, his laughter breaking the tense silence.

‘What the hell was that?’ Meera demanded, punching his shoulder as he kept laughing, his wet hair sticking to his forehead.

‘Police,’ he said.

Her eyes widened before she too started giggling, the absurdity of the situation sinking in. ‘Are you serious?’

‘Dead serious.’ He glanced at her, grinning. ‘Almost caught by the cops for indecent behaviour in public. Very classy for the first kiss.’

Meera punched his shoulder again and laughed.

The rain outside seemed softer now. By the time they reached home, it was late and the sweet and intoxicating memory of their first kiss lingered in the air between them.