Lingering Echoes

Mon, 29 Dec 2025 19:32:54 +0000

The morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains of Arsh’s penthouse in South Delhi’s most exclusive enclave, casting golden patterns across the king-sized bed. The room smelled faintly of sandalwood and last night’s champagne—sweet, heady, and now tinged with the quiet ache of absence. Arsh Malhotra stirred, his arm instinctively reaching across the silk sheets for warmth that wasn’t there. His fingers met cool emptiness.