(The whole story startedÂ here, make sure you catch up with us.)
I wonder why they say he is a flirt. Wasnâ€™t he perfectly fine with me last night? If anything his company had been wonderful, it felt like someone was finally listening to me. But why did he call me Sandy! Whoever does things like that on first meetings!
Stirring her coffee, she remembered that he had also tried to sneak in a cheesy line, something about being her A.
Was this how he played?
A man like him could play all he wanted, she knew. There was something about his conduct last night that made her want to disregard all the rumours, she wanted to trust this man and entrust her future to him. But it all depended on that one phone call.
She had reached the bottom of the pit, there were days when she survived on a single cup of unsweetened coffee, yet somehow she had managed to go on. This project was her last hope. If chosen, it would make her capable of providing everything her family wanted albeit at a cost. She was very well aware of the consequences of her actions, but desperation is a fire that lasts longer and lets you ignore the shadows lurking behind.
Sandhya remembered the way her father died, frail and looking like a bag of bones, not even the reflection of the healthy happy man he was in his better days. She always used to tell her baba that ideals and beliefs are no good unless they have the capacity to satiate your hunger.
Though Sandhya moved away from her family, so she could find a good place for herself that would comfortably allow her to take care of her ailing mother and finance her brotherâ€™s college education, she knew that it was only a matter of time before they would disown her. Their pride was bigger for them than the fact that Sandhya was sacrificing herself to keep them happy and contented.
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