BOOK ONE OF THE SUGAR AND SWEET SERIES
Vanya Sharma hated marriages. Growing up seeing troubled and failed marriages carved a bitter spot in her heart, especially when one of them belonged to her parents. While escaping the shadows of her past, she...
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༘⋆🌷🫧💭₊˚ෆ
𝐓𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐲𝐚𝐚𝐫 𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐞
आजकल तेरे मेरे प्यार के चर्चे हर ज़बान पर, सबको मालूम है और सबको खबर हो गई
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𝗩 𝗔 𝗡 𝗬 𝗔
07:46 PM, 13 February, Saturday, New Delhi
It's been two months since we started fake dating and least to say, everything has been a roller coaster ride. There were ups and downs, especially with our families breathing down our necks but Mahir and I somehow handled it together.
Another thing was, I finally adapted to calling him by his name. It felt weird at first but circumstance called out for it and I had to learn it.
Apart from the occasional office meet-ups we had been going on monthly dates and frequent weekend dates to assure our families. That brought me to the current dilemma. We were supposed to be on a date today as well to celebrate our 'anniversary'.
I remember reminding the man that he was supposed to pick me up before my mother drags me to yet another stupid wedding but as expected, Mahir Oberoi was too fucking busy with his work.
Even after numerous calls and messages asking where the hell he was, Mr-I'm-too-busy-for-you was too precious not to pick even one of them.
I shouldn't have wasted my phone's battery on that grump. I could've just read a book. I grumble, groaning as I look at my about-to-be-dead phone again.
I look down at it, frowning when I see a call coming and realise I had unconsciously kept it on silent due to all those scam calls.
I pick it up, putting it to my ear as I step towards a corner.
"What model?" His voice rings from the other side and I frown. "What?"
"I'm asking what model of phone you want Vanya since this one is definitely broken," he replies and I look down at the phone in confusion. Did he hit his head or something?
"No, it isn't. Why are you saying that?" I ask.
"Then why the hell weren't you picking up my calls?" He hisses and I check the call log, my eyes widening when I see ten missed calls from him. But why was he angry? He was the one who forgot to pick me up.
