Sitara Khanna, a twenty eight year old librarian, is an acid attack survivor. With a half burnt face but a heart full of determination and calibers to survive in the world, she missed a certain element in her life. Love.
Yash Chaudhary, a twenty ni...
I swear I try sooo hard to control the urge of sharing the next chapter with you guys.
Like I have seen many wattpad creators updating their chapters at an interval of.. probably weeks.. and their stories get millions of views even with a mediocre story line (exceptions always in exists). Everytime they hit a million, I pledge I'll never post regular updates and then again, I somehow end up updating the books regularly and at times twice a day.
*Sigh*
I think I need a different hobby to keep me entertained?
Anyways, enjoy!
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Urmila told him.
She told him.
That bitch.
It's bad enough she's partially responsible for the fact that I was stuck down in reference all day today. I'm down in the basement now, so nobody has to look at me. I thought about protesting, but I didn't have it in me. I just went where they told me to go. Maybe they're right—maybe it's better this way. If hundreds of people signed a petition, it's hard to argue with that.
It was depressing, but at least I'd be seeing Yash today. Looking forward to our night out was enough to keep me going. Every time I felt sad, I thought of him and my mood lifted. It was what got me through the day.
Then when I came up to the main level and saw him, my heart soared. He looked so sexy, with his tousled brown hair, the tight muscles in his chest and arms, the sexy tattoos. There was a red rose lying on te table in front of him, and I almost burst into tears when I saw it. He bought a rose. For me. For me . Nobody has ever bought me a rose before.
And then I noticed Urmila sitting with him.
I ran over just in time to hear the tail end of their conversation. Trust me, these are quite severe deformities. Yash was sitting there, looking shell-shocked. Not that I could blame him.
I should have told him the truth sooner. Urmila was right about that part. But I knew it would be over as soon as he found out about me, and I couldn't bear to let that happen. I wanted to have tonight with him. Just tonight. One night. I wanted to hold hands again. I wanted to sit across from him at a restaurant, talking about books and our lives and whatever else. It's something I've never had before, and even though I'd been telling myself I didn't care, now that I could almost touch it, I wanted it more than I'd thought possible. And I wanted it with Yash.
Now it will never happen.
I do him a favor and run out of the library before he can call off our date. He'll never come back to the library. He can order his braille books online. It will be easier for him that way.
I end up behind the library, next to the dumpster. I would have run to my car, but I left my purse with my car keys in the break room at work, so I don't have much of a choice. This seems like a safe location to hide—I doubt Yash is going to venture into a place where he smells garbage. I shift my gaze down and notice about ten million cigarette butts lying at my feet. A fitting setting for how I feel right now. Luckily, there are no juvenile delinquents hanging out back here like normal. I guess they have better things to do on a Saturday night.
