It had felt like a safe assumption that her impulsive declaration that Yash and she were in a relationship benefited them both. Yash had been in a terrible accident at fifteen when a car had crashed into his bike. It had left him in a wheelchair that doctors told him he’d never get out of. It had taken Yash all of a year to prove them wrong, but after that he’d only ever been interested in showing the world that nothing was going to get in the way of his ambitions. He had shown no interest in women or relationships since the accident. Things had only gotten worse when an intern who worked for him had drugged him and recorded them having sex. That had convinced him once and for all that he couldn’t trust his own judgment when it came to women.

Naina had stood by him like a rock. Having her in his corner publicly had given Yash the optics he needed. It had helped his political career. She’d told herself she was helping a friend. In hindsight it was clear they’d both just used each other to get what they needed at the time.

For ten years their arrangement had worked. All the optics with none of the emotional labor of a real relationship. Then India Dashwood had come along, just when Jiggy Mehta had offered Naina the endowment. For the first time since they’d gotten into their arrangement, what they wanted had been at odds with each other and their lies. Yash had chosen India. Naina was pretty certain it had never even been a choice.

Her ego had been publicly shredded. Even though Yash had tried his best to be gentle, to stay her friend. Even when she hadn’t shown him the same courtesy.

“Were you ever in love with Yash?” Vansh asked when she finished, his eyes intense as he hit at what he thought was the heart of it.

“That doesn’t matter.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means I can’t.”

It was clear from his face that he had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. “Same question as before: what does that mean?” He truly had beautiful eyes. Perfectly shaped, wide with a slight uptilt at the edges like rotated commas. Even without that thick forest of lashes and the gold flecks in the amber irises, they were dramatically beautiful. But it was the deep caring in them, the ability to zero in on you and connect, that made them devastating.

“I’m not built to be in love.”

“Ah.”