Downstairs, the living room was already alive with quiet chaos. The faint scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, and the faint hum of soft instrumental music drifted from the speakers — courtesy of Aryan, who claimed “mood lighting and playlist rehearsal” were crucial to every grand romantic plan.
He sat sprawled across the couch, laptop open, iPad in hand, and what looked like three empty coffee mugs scattered around him.
Each story I write is a quiet labor of love — built word by word, heart to heart. Your support not only honors the effort behind every chapter but also empowers me to create more deeply, more often. If my writing has lingered in your thoughts, moved your heart, or brought you joy, consider becoming a part of this journey. Every contribution is a silent applause that helps the next story come to life.
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