Chapter 1
A Not-So-Typical Sunday
Sunday mornings in Krithika’s home had a rhythm — the aroma of filter coffee, the distant sound of a devotional song on the TV, her mother humming, and her father reading the paper like it was a ritual.
But this Sunday was different. Krithika had a housewarming to attend — her college best friend’s dream home was finally complete, and skipping it wasn’t an option. So, by 9:30 AM, she was already sifting through sarees and light jewelry in her room, humming softly as she picked out a pastel blue kurta with intricate threadwork.
She tied her hair into a loose braid, letting a few strands fall purposefully. A light blush dusted her cheeks — she never wore too much, just enough to feel like herself.
Downstairs, her father’s voice boomed cheerfully through the hall as the main door opened.
“Ah, Sharath! You’re early, come in!”
Sharath uncle — her dad's business partner and closest friend — stepped inside with his usual energy. Tall with salt-and-pepper hair and a proud smile, he was accompanied by a familiar figure.
Shaurya.
Sharath uncle's only son.
Buttoned-up shirt, sharp jawline, serious eyes that never lingered long — the man had a permanent “do not disturb” sign carved into his face.
Krithika walked downstairs with a pleasant smile and folded her hands politely. “Good morning, uncle!”
Sharath smiled fondly. “Krithi, kanna! You’ve grown more beautiful each time I see you.”
She laughed softly. “You always say that.”
She turned to Shaurya. “Hi.”
He gave a small nod. “Good morning.”
Her father joined in, gesturing toward the sofa. “Come, come. Sit. We were just going to have breakfast. Krithi, call your mom.”
Sharath added, “Actually, I just came to hand over the project file to your dad. But since I’m here, I thought I’d stay and catch up with him. You carry on.”
Krithika nodded, then grabbed her clutch and keys from the console. As she headed to the door, her father called out, “Wait—Krithi, what’s wrong with the car?”
She paused. “Oh. Yeah… it’s not starting again. I called the mechanic, but he won’t be here till afternoon.”
Sharath glanced at Shaurya and smirked. “Looks like the universe wants you to spend some time with my son.”
“What?” Krithika and Shaurya said at the same time.
Sharath shrugged. “He’ll drop you. He has nothing urgent today. And you’re both adults, it’s just a ride.”
Krithika opened her mouth to protest, but her father gave her that look — the one that said, don’t overthink everything, kanna.
So, thirty minutes later, she found herself sitting in the passenger seat of Shaurya’s SUV, the engine purring quietly as they hit the road. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable — just... present. Heavy in its own way.
She finally glanced at him. “You sure this isn’t a detour for you?”
He didn’t take his eyes off the road. “I’m not the one attending a housewarming in full ethnic wear.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not the one with a permanently grumpy face.”
For a second — just a second — she thought she saw the corner of his lips twitch. A smile threatening to appear.
Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.
The housewarming was buzzing with warmth and chatter by the time they reached. Krithika’s best friend came rushing over, arms wide, all smiles and excitement. Shaurya quietly followed a few steps behind, hands in his pockets, taking in the crowd like an outsider at a festival.
“You came! I thought you’d ditch me last minute!” her friend grinned, pulling Krithika into a tight hug.
“I wouldn’t dare,” Krithika chuckled. “You’d haunt me for life.”
She then turned, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. “And this is Shaurya—he’s… uh—well, he’s my dad’s business partner’s son.”
Shaurya gave a small nod of acknowledgement, and just then, his phone buzzed. He excused himself quietly to take the call.
Krithika noticed a few aunts giving her curious looks, and before they could start asking any unnecessary questions, she reached out—without thinking—and gently held onto the sleeve of his shirt.
Shaurya flinched slightly, turning to glance down at where her fingers curled into the fabric. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t pull away. But his eyes paused on her hand longer than necessary.
He turned back to his call, voice even. But somewhere in his chest, a strange little flutter settled.
She didn't notice it. Or maybe she did—but pretended not to.
After polite greetings to her friend’s parents and a few more introductions, lunch followed — steaming plates of pulav, paneer curry, and payasam. Krithika spoke animatedly with everyone. Shaurya stayed quiet but didn’t seem uncomfortable. He listened. Observed. Always two steps behind, yet somehow right there beside her.
Later that evening, as guests began to relax into conversations and kids started running around with balloons, Krithika’s friend’s younger sister came over.
“Akka, I need to get a few decorations from the nearby store. We forgot some. Would you mind coming with me?”
Before Krithika could reply, Shaurya — standing nearby — spoke up. “I’ll drive.”
The three of them headed out, and once they reached the small store just two lanes away, Shaurya parked the car.
“You both go in. I’ll wait,” he said, tapping at his phone.
Krithika tilted her head. “You sure?”
He gave a half-shrug and leaned back, eyes already on his screen.
Krithika and the younger girl stepped into the shop — a cozy local place with packets hanging from strings and rows of colorful sweets. As the girl went toward the decorative aisle, Krithika’s gaze drifted across the shelves, stopping at a section filled with chocolates.
She reached out absently for her favorite — and that’s when she heard it.
A soft voice. Barely above a whisper.
“Akka…”
She turned.
There, near the corner of the shop, behind the door slightly ajar to the storage room, stood a little girl. Curly hair that hadn't been brushed in a while. A faded frock, no footwear. Barely three or four, maybe. Her eyes—wide, frightened, yet somehow trusting—locked onto Krithika’s.
The girl took a small step forward, then paused.
The shopkeeper hadn’t noticed her. She didn’t seem to belong there.
Krithika slowly knelt down. “Hey… where’s your mummy or daddy?”
The girl didn’t reply. Her eyes shimmered.
Krithika reached into her bag, took out a small chocolate bar, and held it out gently. “Want this?”
The girl nodded slowly and took it with both hands like it was the first thing she'd held in a while.
“Are you alone?” Krithika asked softly, glancing toward the storekeeper, but still keeping her tone calm.
The girl just stared at her silently.
And then… she wrapped her little arms around Krithika’s neck.
Krithika froze. Her heart… clenched.
It was a hug, yes. But it felt more like a plea.
Author’s Note:
And that’s how it begins… a not-so-typical Sunday that might just change everything.
Thank you for reading the first chapter of When Hearts Collide! 🩵
Shaurya might seem distant, and Krithika might be all sunshine, but sometimes, the most unexpected encounters lead to the most beautiful stories.
If you felt even a little spark between them or a tug in your heart when that little girl appeared — stick around. The journey has just begun, and trust me, it only gets deeper from here.
Your thoughts, comments, and support mean the world. Tell me what you felt, and let’s grow this story together 🤍
