Arav had barely touched his breakfast that morning. Sitting on the bed with one foot propped on the small stool and the other foot still bandaged, he kept biting his nails , not out of habit, but sheer nervousness. His mind was running at the speed of light, trying to calculate all possible ways of initiating a conversation with Ritika without getting his ears pulled… or worse, having her go completely silent on him again.

He had seen Angry Ritika before. But this one , the silent, cold, sarcastic, wounded Ritika , was a whole different storm. And he knew better than to take her lightly.