Chapter 5

Sujoy’s POV

 

The next day, I avoided going home. The thought of facing my parents and their relentless matchmaking was unbearable. Instead, I took Ms. Sandhu out on a date.

 

She was beautiful—elegant, stylish, and confident. The kind of woman I had always been comfortable with. This was my life, my normal life and I was happy like this. The pressure of an arranged marriage felt suffocating, unnatural.

 

So, I made a decision—I would marry a woman of my own choice. No family involvement, no compromises.

 

“What are you thinking about?” she asked, her voice smooth as silk.

 

I simply shook my head, flashing her a lazy, knowing smile.

 

She didn’t press further. Instead, her eyes held a silent invitation, one I had no intention of refusing. After dinner, she invited me in for coffee, but we both knew neither of us cared about the coffee.

 

Inside her apartment, I leaned against the counter, watching as she poured two cups, but she wasn’t in a rush to hand me mine.

 

“I want you,” she said bluntly, her voice laced with desire. “But let’s be clear—I’m not looking for anything serious.”

 

I smirked. “That makes two of us.”

 

She laughed, the tension between us crackling. “Good.”

 

The moment I pulled her into my arms, she melted against me. Her fingers eagerly worked to unzip my jacket, slipping beneath my shirt, teasing my skin.

 

I groaned. “Do you even know what you’re doing to me?”

 

Her response was a frantic kiss, hungry and desperate. We barely made it to the bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind.

 

She was on fire, and I had no intention of putting it out.

 

 

The Morning After...

The persistent ringing of my phone pulled me from the depths of sleep. I ignored it, burying my face into the warmth beside me.

 

Flashes of last night filled my mind—her lips, her touch, the way she moaned my name. A slow smile stretched across my face.

 

I nuzzled the crook of her neck, but she let out a sleepy protest. “Ugh, you need a shave, handsome.”

 

I chuckled. “Didn’t seem to bother you last night.”

 

She stretched, her bare skin brushing against mine. “Mmm… true.”

 

The phone rang again. I groaned, reaching for it.

 

Dad.

 

Damn.

 

“Good morning, Dad,” I answered, my voice hoarse.

 

“Where the hell are you?” he barked.

 

“At a friend’s place,” I lied.

 

“Don’t lie! Come home. Now.”

 

“Fine, fine,” I muttered and hung up.

 

Kiya pouted. “Leaving already?”

 

“Wish I could stay, but duty calls.”

 

“Shame. I was hoping we could get to know each other a little… better.” She trailed her fingers down my chest.

 

I smirked but pulled away. “Tempting. But I really have to go.”

 

After freshening up, I left for home, 

 

 

Back at Home

 

The moment I stepped inside, Mom pounced.

 

"Where were you last night?" she demanded, arms crossed.

 

I exhaled sharply. "With my friends."

 

"No, you weren’t. I called them."

 

I froze for a split second before forcing a casual shrug. "Mom, seriously? You called my friends? This is ridiculous! I’m thirty-two, not five! You can’t keep tracking my every move!"

 

"Exactly! You’re thirty-two! When will you understand that you need a partner? Every one of your friends is settled, building a family. You should have a child by now!"

 

Here we go again.

 

"Mom, I already said I’d get married. What more do you want?"

 

"Then why didn’t you come home last night? You knew I had invited guests! And why was your phone off? Were you avoiding me?"

 

I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. "I forgot to charge it."

 

Dad, who had been silent until now, finally spoke. "Sujoy, enough! We’re done with this back-and-forth. We want to see you settled. Your mother got emotional seeing a little boy in the park today—he reminded her of you. We want grandchildren."

 

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "I said yes to marriage, but I don’t want to meet every girl you line up for me. It’s exhausting. I’ll find someone myself."

 

"Fine!" Dad said. "But we want results soon."

 

I mumbled an incoherent response and stalked to my room.

 

I was tired of this constant pressure. Maybe I should start seeing Kiya Sandhu more often. We had fun, no strings attached. A perfect distraction.

 

Later, I drove to the office, eager to escape the suffocating marriage talk. On the way, I spotted the hotel from where Rohit had bought that cake the other day.

 

The memory of its rich, decadent taste had been haunting me.

 

On impulse, I pulled into the parking lot and headed to the bakery. The moment I stepped inside, my gaze swept over the glass display filled with an array of beautifully crafted pastries and cakes. They looked like edible works of art.

 

I ordered a croissant, cheese garlic bread, and a slice of both cakes I had tasted earlier. As I took my first bite, a satisfied groan escaped me.

 

Damn.

 

I was in love. With a cake.

 

Determined to meet the genius behind these flavors, I asked about the chef. The salesgirl, however, had no clue.

 

Disappointed but still pleased with my purchases, I got some extra packed for Sia and turned to leave.

 

That’s when it happened...