April 26th. Three days post-wedding chaos.
The fairy lights were down, the guests had flown back, and she had finally removed 743 bobby pins from her hair. Her back hurt, her feet were swollen, and her phone was blowing up like it was auditioning for a K-drama. Because guess what? The ex was back.
Louis.
That night, after returning from the resort, her phone dinged with a message. Then another. Then came the call. Louis had somehow convinced Naina to put him on a conference call with her. Classic move. And because she clearly had a weakness for drama, she didn't hang up.
"Hello?" she said, deadpan.
"Babe—"
"Oh no. Stop. Don't 'babe' me. You lost that privilege somewhere between your emotional unavailability and your God complex."
Louis sighed dramatically. "Can we just talk like normal people?"
"Normal people don't behave like the way you did."
"I was going through things."
"And now you're going through this call with me hanging up in 3… 2—"
"WAIT! Listen, I've changed. I've been thinking about you. A lot. About us."
"Us?" she scoffed. "You mean me sobbing into ice cream while you were out playing Romeo with a side character?"
Louis groaned. "I made a mistake. One. Can't we move past it?"
"Yeah, I moved past it and into emotional stability. It's nice here. No drama, no chaos and definitely no Louis."
"You can't just throw everything we had away," he said, desperation leaking into his voice.
"Watch me. I've been lifting emotional baggage since you left. I'm basically a CrossFit champ now."
"Don't you miss me even a little?"
"Not since someone else entered the chat. Literally."
Silence. A pause. She could hear his ego deflate like a sad balloon.
"You're seeing someone?"
"Thinking. Not seeing. But yes. And his name doesn't sound like a luxury perfume brand, so that's already a win."
That night, after hanging up with an emotionally bruised Louis, she stormed into the group chat with Naina and Viaan classically titled "Chicks Before Dixxs."
Her:
"Naina. WHY would you conference him in? Are you trying to sabotage my emotional healing arc?"
Naina:
"I thought closure would be cute. Sue me."
Viaan:
"You know what's cute? Boundaries. Naina's forgotten what those are."
Her:
"He said 'babe' like we were in an early 2000s rom-com. I was one second away from vomiting."
Viaan:
"To be fair, Louis always sounded like he narrated his own biopic in his head."
Naina:
"Okay but can we talk about THIS mysterious Mick dude you suddenly name-dropped like a cliffhanger?"
Her:
"Mafia-core vibes. Two moles on his neck that peek out when he turns. Soft spoken. And he looked like trouble. Hot, tall, silent trouble."
Viaan:
"Neck moles? That's oddly specific and I LOVE it. Is he a red flag or just spicy?"
Her:
"Red flags are for beginners. I want fireworks. And maybe therapy. But mostly fireworks."
Naina:
"Girl, are we even sure he's not secretly Louis in a better outfit?"
Her:
"Mick might be different. Louis didn't even hear me order my Subway sandwich right after 2 years of dating. Also, Mick smells like cinnamon and secrets."
Viaan:
"I'd read a novel about that scent description alone."
Naina:
"Okay but seriously... you're in a little too much hurry. Don't go full Shakespeare over a guy you barely know."
Viaan:
"Yeah, don't upgrade to a new toxic just because it comes in prettier packaging. Let's at least stalk his socials first."
Her:
"Too late. I'm already picturing our imaginary dog. His name's coco and he hates drama."
They laughed, bantered, and dissected every single detail she could remember about Mick—how he leaned back like the world bored him, how his voice was like a private Spotify playlist, and how those damn neck moles peeked out whenever he turned slightly.
Viaan and Naina left the chat. She? She still stared at her phone, wondering if texting Mick again made her crazy or confident. Probably both.
The chapter ends with her sending Mick a late-night message that said:
"Just a heads-up. My ex is trying to win me back and I'm too tired for drama. But if you plan on being emotionally stable and mysterious, I might have a thing for that."
His reply? Immediate.
"Well, lucky for you, I specialize in stability. And mystery. Want a dose of both?"
Damn. She was so in trouble.
And she was starting to love it.