The glass-walled cafe on the corner of the avenue was Riddhi’s sanctuary, but lately, it had become the center of a quiet, persistent dilemma. Rain tapped against the tall panes, blurring the city lights into streaks of gold and charcoal. Across the low wooden table sat Kabir, his fingers loosely wrapped around a ceramic mug of black coffee. A few feet away, leaning against the doorway shaking off an umbrella, stood Neil.Riddhi watched them both, her pulse quickening with a realization she had spent months trying to suppress. She did not want to choose. The truth, wild and unsettling, was