When You Read My Words (Last Part)

📖 Too Much To Hold

Image made by Author on Canva

The hall was crowded… more than Meher had expected. When her eyes fell on the banner at the back, displaying the cover of her book, Too Much to Hold, it all felt like a dream.

Her naani, mom, masi and Simran sat proudly in the front row. Simran had already taken ten photos and whispered to her neighbour, “That’s my sister!” Meher couldn’t help smiling.

There were so many unfamiliar faces: journalists, readers, critics. She tried to steady her breath.

And then, as her gaze skimmed the crowd, she froze.

Aarav.

He was there. Sitting quietly toward the back, half in shadow, as if he hadn’t meant to be seen at all. But she saw him. Of course she did. Her heart raced.

For a moment, everything else blurred. It was just him. Still, unreadable. Still the one who had undone her without ever trying.

She forced herself back to the moment. The anchor introduced her and then added, “And we’re glad to have author Aarav Mehra with us as well.” The room echoed with claps, but her ears carried only the weight of his name.

Aarav only gave a small nod, keeping the attention firmly on her.