MIHIKA'S POV :
The evening air in the kitchen was thick with the aroma of spices and simmering lentils. I stirred the pot, preparing the tadka for the dal, but my mind was miles away, still replaying the morning's chaotic events. The memory of his abrupt departure, the coldness in his eyes, and then the gentle kiss on my forehead, all without an apology, left me feeling disoriented and upset. I haven’t had a chance to talk to him, and honestly, I don't know what I'd say. I don’t even have my phone.
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