Extended Epilogue *BONUS*

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Righttt... so this is finally happening! After so many requests, here's an extension of Our Love Is Torture.

Dedicated to all those people who have continuously kept supporting me and giving me inspiration to do more!

I love you all and can't wait for you's to read my next book.

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Rohan's POV

"THIS IS STUPID," I speak, hands in my pockets, still leaning against the wall outside the birthing room. I hated India. I also hated Hospitals. Come to think of it, I pretty much hated everywhere that wasn't London or my fiancée's mouth. Lucky for me, I lived in both places.

"It can take up to two days." Jeet blew out a breath and rubbed his eyes, pacing back and forth. "I remember our mother was in labor for eighteen hours before she had Aisha."

"Shit." I said, Aisha snapped her head from the book on her knees and swiped her eyes along me.

"I'm never having kids." She stated, shaking her head. She wore baby-blue jeans, and a foral pink shirt, her brown hair neatly poured over her shoulders.

I lifted an eyebrow. "Thanks for the news. Next time, break it on national television."

I didn't care, though. The last thing I wanted was to share my soon-to-be wife with someone else. And kids could be demanding. We spent four years of acting like two idiots to catch up on. Maybe in three, four, six years. In the immediate future, though? No fucking chance.

She sent me a sly smile. "We've discussed it. You hate kids."

"Not true. Hate is a strong word. I don’t care for them." I shrugged. "And fuck, I can’t believe Jeet is going to be a dad."

Just as I said it, a doctor wearing white--or were they blue?--passed us by in the hallway and shot me a dirty look. Guess I should be more careful about dropping the f-bomb every two seconds in this place.

"It’s ridiculous," Jeet agreed. "But I love it!"

We heard footsteps, and Ayan appeared down the hallway, running in our direction, clutching the hand of a young woman I didn’t know. I couldn’t decide who was a bigger manwhore, him or Justin Bieber... surely Ayan.
JB looks like a girl anyway.

"What did I miss?" Ayan breathed out.

"Nothing, other than basic social skills." Jeet shot him a dirty look, then glared hard at the chick he brought along with him. "No offense to the lady, but is this really an appropriate place to bring your date?"

"Calm down, brother." Aisha yawned from her chair against the wall, continuing to read. She was reading 'Dear John.' Her favorite. Mine too, unfortunately-- after she forced me to watch the movie.

My phone rang in my hand, and I groaned. "I have to take this."

Aisha smiled warmly and introduced herself to the girl Ayan had brought along. She was always nice to the chicks Ayan dragged to whatever social events we all attended, even though she knew she’d never have to see them again. That was Aisha. The sweetest. The nicest. And…mine.

I placed a hand on my ear to block the noise from the commotion in the hallway and leaned against a wall. "Hello?"

"Yeah," I heard Mr. Vishal say--someone who I've been talking for some while. "I spoke to your financial adviser. So you’re putting aside one million dollars by doing a duet, for Villa Leopolda in India?"

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