Misha stirred awake, her chest rising and falling unevenly as the remnants of last nightâs nightmare clung to her mind like a shadow. She sat up abruptly, her gaze darting around the dimly lit room. Her heart raced as she remembered the vivid dream that had left her trembling. Instinctively, her eyes searched for Abhimanyu, but the other side of the bed was empty.
Her throat tightened. Where could he be? she thought, her pulse quickening. Maybe heâs downstairs, she tried to assure herself, taking a shaky breath. But when her eyes flickered to the clock on the nightstand, her stomach churned. It was already late. How did I sleep in so late? she thought, her anxiety mounting.
Throwing the covers off, she hurriedly got out of bed, her bare feet hitting the cool floor. She rushed into the bathroom, her movements brisk as she freshened up. Once done, she slipped into a simple yet elegant dress and stood before the mirror. Her reflection stared back at her, but her mind was elsewhere. Brushing her hair back hastily, she steeled herself and headed downstairs.
As Misha descended the staircase, her eyes roamed the living area, searching desperately for any sign of him. Instead, she spotted Arthi walking toward her room, carrying a bundle of freshly laundered clothes.
"Arthi!" Misha called out, forcing a smile to her lips as her voice echoed through the hallway.
Arthi turned, her brows lifting in surprise before a warm smile spread across her face. She walked toward Misha, concern flickering in her gaze. Before Arthi could ask if Misha was all right after sleeping in so late, Misha cut her off.
"Where is Abhimanyu?" Misha asked hurriedly, her tone betraying her growing unease as her eyes scanned the house.
Arthi blinked at the question, her expression softening into a slight frown. "Di, Jetha Ji already left for the office," she said gently, as though delivering obvious news.
Mishaâs breath hitched, her chest tightening. "When? When did he leave?" she asked, her voice rising with a mix of worry and disbelief.
Arthi frowned again, noticing the panic in her sisterâs tone. "I think he left about an hour ago," she replied, her voice calm but unsure. "Heâs probably already at the office."
Mishaâs heart sank at the words. She nodded absently, her thoughts spiraling as she turned abruptly and hurried back upstairs without another word. Her footsteps echoed on the stairs, leaving a confused Arthi behind.
"Di....?" Arthi called after her softly, but Misha didnât stop.
Standing there in the empty hallway, Arthi let out a quiet sigh, her brows knitting together. Shaking her head, she decided to head back to her room, still puzzled by Mishaâs sudden anxiety. Meanwhile, Misha locked herself in her room, her mind racing as she tried to make sense of her unease. Something about Abhimanyuâs absence gnawed at her, refusing to let her rest.
Misha paced back and forth in her room, her steps quick and unsteady. Her fingers tugged nervously at the hem of her saree as her brows furrowed with worry. Fear clouded her thoughts, refusing to let her mind rest.
"I told him not to go. Why doesnât he ever listen to me? Not even once!" Misha muttered, her tone laced with irritation. She stopped for a moment, staring at the floor as if it held the answers. "I told him so clearlyâ¦.." Misha trailed off.
Her voice trailed off as she let out a shaky sigh. The memory of her dream crept back into her mind, chilling her to the core. Her heart pounded as her imagination painted the worst possible scenarios.
"That dreamâ¦.." she whispered, her face growing pale. "What if something happens to Abhimanyu?" The thought sent shivers down her spine, and her pacing came to an abrupt halt.
"Itâs just a dream," her inner voice mocked, trying to dismiss her fears. "Why are you so worried? Itâs not like you care about him. Heâs such a jerk, always ignoring you." Misha's expression went too angry.
Misha clenched her fists, trying to silence the nagging voice in her head. "Abhimanyu is my husband. Of course, I care about him," she replied aloud, her voice filled with a quiet determination; Abhimanyu is her husband; only she can insult him like that. "And it wasnât just a dream. It was a nightmare." Her gaze shifted to her phone lying on the bedside table, her fingers itching to call him.
But another thought struck her, more terrifying than the rest. "What if Aadiran does something to him?" Misha whispered, her fear deepening as her mind replayed the venomous words Aadiran had spoken during their last call. Her knees grew weak as helplessness settled over her like a heavy fog.
"What should I do now?" she murmured, biting her lip. Her thoughts raced. "Heâs already at the officeâ¦.. I begged him not to go, pleaded with him, but that jerk never listens!" She sank onto the bed, her hands trembling as she picked up her phone.
She stared at the screen, debating whether to call him. What if he gets annoyed? What if he brushes me off again? But her fear outweighed her hesitation. Taking a deep breath, she dialed his number.
It rang. And rang. No answer.
Her fingers hovered over the screen as she tried again. And again. Each time, the silence on the other end made her frustration boil over.
"He is such a jerk!" she muttered under her breath, slamming the phone onto the bed. But her anger quickly dissolved, replaced by the gnawing worry clawing at her heart. Aadiranâs words echoed in her mind, each syllable a reminder of the looming danger.
Her chest tightened as a wave of dread washed over her. What if something really happens to him? The thought was unbearable. Misha buried her face in her hands, her mind spiraling further into panic. Why wonât he pick up? What if I never get to see him again?
Misha let out a deep sigh, her shoulders slumping as her face grew pale. Her body felt frail, weighed down by exhaustion and worry. She hadnât eaten a single bite since yesterday afternoon, but the gnawing hunger in her stomach was overshadowed by the storm of fear raging in her mind. Nothing else mattered.
Her trembling hands clutched the edge of her saree as a single thought echoed in her head, louder than all others. What if something happens to Abhimanyu? The question made her chest tighten painfully.
"If something happens to him, itâll be my faultâ¦.." she whispered, her voice breaking. Tears welled up in her eyes before spilling down her cheeks, warm trails against her cold skin. She didnât bother to wipe them away. "I told him not to go. I begged himâ¦.." Her words faltered as her voice choked with emotion.
Her breathing grew uneven, and she sniffled, clutching her hands tightly to keep them from shaking. "What should I do now?" she murmured, her voice barely audible. Her gaze darted helplessly around the room, searching for some kind of answer in the emptiness. "I donât want anyone to get hurt because of meâ¦.. I canât bear that," she whispered, her tone filled with guilt and despair.
Her frail body felt heavier as she sank down onto the edge of the bed. Her legs gave out, unable to support the weight of her fear and helplessness. She wrapped her arms around herself, as if trying to hold herself together, but the tears continued to flow.
"I canât do anything now," Misha muttered, her voice barely a whisper. "I justâ¦.. have to wait." Her words hung in the air, hollow and resigned. She tilted her head up, staring blankly at the ceiling as her lips moved silently in prayer.
"Please," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Bring him back safelyâ¦.. Thatâs all I ask." Her eyes were filled with tears.
She closed her eyes, her body trembling as a fresh wave of tears escaped. Her mind was a whirlwind of fears, guilt, and prayers, but there was nothing she could do. All she could do now was sit there, pale and fragile, waiting for the man she loved to return home safely.
Abhimanyu sat in the meeting room, his patience wearing thin. It had been over two hours, and the discussion showed no signs of ending. He clenched his fists under the table, the frustration bubbling beneath his calm exterior. This mess wasnât his doing-it was entirely his brother Ekansh's fault. Firing all the top chemists from their perfume branch had caused chaos, and now Abhimanyu was left to clean up after him.
The thought of Ekansh made his jaw tighten. If Ekansh were in front of him right now, Abhimanyu didnât know what heâd do, so deep was his anger. Perhaps it was better Ekansh was in France, far away from his wrath.
"Damn it," Abhimanyu muttered under his breath as the Chief Executive detailed the potential losses they would have faced if the chemists hadnât been reappointed. At least Aavyan had acted swiftly to bring them back before their competitors could snatch them up. The Rathor family's rivals had been circling like vultures, ready to strike the moment they showed weakness. Losing their top-tier employees would have been a golden opportunity for their competitors to undermine them.
As the meeting finally came to an end, Abhimanyu stood, his towering presence commanding the attention of everyone in the room. The employees followed suit, standing respectfully.
"I want to express my gratitude to the Fragrance House team for rejoining us," Abhimanyu began, his tone cold but laced with authority. His sharp gaze swept across the room, making every person feel the weight of his words.
"I also apologize on behalf of my brother, Ekansh, for his impulsive decision to let you go." Abhimanyu looked at them who straighten up their posture at his stare.
The employees exchanged uneasy glances but nodded in acknowledgment.
"I expect no mistakes in the upcoming launch of our perfume," Abhimanyu continued, his voice steely and commanding. "I trust you will perform to my expectations, as you always have.". He tone was firm.
The employees nodded in unison, their faces a mixture of respect and fear. Satisfied, Abhimanyu gave a curt nod before striding out of the room. The Chief Executive followed closely behind, a nervous energy radiating from him.
"I donât want this to happen again," Abhimanyu said as they walked down the corridor, his tone sharp and icy.
"Yes, sir," the Chief Executive replied with a quick nod.
"From now on, you take orders only from me," Abhimanyu continued, his voice firm and unyielding. "Even if a speck of dust moves in this branch, it should be because I ordered it. Understood?" His tone cold yet commanding.
"Understood, sir," the Chief Executive said, bowing slightly before hurrying away when dismissed.
Alone now, Abhimanyu pulled out his phone. His brows furrowed as he noticed twenty missed calls from Misha. A frown settled on his face, and his steps slowed.
"What the hell," he muttered coldly, staring at the screen. He sighed, the morningâs decision flashing through his mind-his choice to distance himself from her for now. It was for the best, he had told himself.
Shaking off the thought, he slipped the phone back into his pocket. "Whatever. I should head to the office," he said under his breath, though his voice lacked conviction.
Sliding into the driverâs seat of his car, Abhimanyu couldnât help but glance at his phone again. Worry crept into his mind, uninvited. What if somethingâs wrong? Did she have another nightmare? he wondered. He brushed the thought aside, trying to convince himself it wasnât serious, and started the car.
But as he drove, his thoughts were consumed by Misha. Was she alright? Was she waiting for him to call back? The questions swirled in his mind, making it hard to focus on the road.
He didnât realize he was driving toward his house instead of his office until a familiar street came into view.
"Damn it," he muttered, gripping the steering wheel tighter. His car slowed as he sighed in exasperation. "How the hell did I end up here?"
Leaning back in his seat, Abhimanyu closed his eyes briefly, frustration evident in his expression. Admit it-you wanted to see her, a voice in his mind taunted. He shook his head, dismissing the thought, and resumed driving, trying to convince himself it was just a coincidence.
But fate had other plans.
A truck suddenly swerved into his lane, its massive frame looming in front of his car. Abhimanyuâs reflexes kicked in, and he slammed on the brakes. The tires screeched as the car spun out of control, the steering wheel jerking in his hands. He fought to regain control, his heart pounding in his chest, but the vehicle skidded uncontrollably.
The crash was inevitable.
The car slammed into a tree with a deafening thud. Abhimanyuâs head snapped forward, the seatbelt pulling him back just in time. The world seemed to blur for a moment as the impact rattled his senses.
He sat there, breathing heavily, gripping the steering wheel tightly. Pain throbbed in his shoulder, but it was nothing compared to the storm raging in his mind.
"Damn it," he muttered, his voice laced with both anger and relief that he was still alive. He leaned back, closing his eyes briefly, the image of Mishaâs face flashing in his mind.
Abhimanyu felt a sharp, searing pain in his forehead, and when his fingers brushed against it, he flinched. The dampness on his hand brought him to a halt-it was blood. His jaw clenched as he hissed under his breath,
"Bloody hell." He closed his eyes in frustration.
The sight before him only fueled his anger. His car was a wreck, the metal twisted and shattered glass scattered like a thousand stars on the asphalt. His usually calm demeanor cracked as he glared at the remains of the once-pristine vehicle. He dialed his assistant, his voice clipped and commanding.
"Bring another car. Now." He kept his phone back and stood with irritation.
Within thirty minutes, headlights pierced the darkness, and a car pulled up in front of him. Adith, his assistant, stepped out, his expression etched with concern.
"Sir, what happened? Are you alright?" Adith's voice carried genuine worry as he approached.
Abhimanyuâs icy gaze landed on him. "I'm fine," he replied curtly, his tone colder than the night air.
Adith hesitated but nodded, knowing better than to press further. Abhimanyu moved swiftly, sliding into the backseat of the waiting car, while Adith settled in the front. The driver, sensing the tension, started the engine without a word.
Leaning back, Abhimanyu pulled out a handkerchief and pressed it against the cut on his forehead. Blood seeped through the fabric, and his scowl deepened as he muttered,
"Bloody truck." The memory of the vehicle that had swerved into his lane, causing the crash, only intensified his irritation.
Adith cleared his throat, his voice hesitant. "Sir, shall we head to the hospital?" Adith looked back slightly.
Abhimanyuâs glare shot through the rearview mirror, sharp enough to make Adith flinch. "No, letâs go to a club and celebrate," he snapped with biting sarcasm.
"Alright, sirâ¦.." Adith replied automatically, turning to the driver. But then the words registered, and he whipped his head around to face Abhimanyu, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Wait, sir, are you serious? A club? Shouldnât we-" Adith tone was disbilefe as he thought it's because Abhimanyu hit his head.
Abhimanyuâs glare intensified, cutting him off mid-sentence. "You idiot," he barked. "Do I look like someone who wants to party right now? Use your brain, Adith! Why havenât I fired you yet?" Abhimanyu looked irritated even more as Adith regretted asking him.
Adith straightened in his seat, his face a mix of resignation and frustration. Why did he even ask? His boss always had a temper, and now, with a literal head injury, it seemed worse.
"Drive to the hospital," Abhimanyu ordered the driver coldly, his tone leaving no room for argument.
The car pulled away from the scene, leaving behind the wreckage. Adith, now thoroughly chastised, stared out of the window, silently questioning how he managed to work for a man as impossible as Abhimanyu.
Abhimanyu entered the grand mansion, his firm steps echoing across the polished marble floors. His usual commanding presence seemed slightly subdued, his posture stiff as he adjusted his bandaged forehead. Halfway to his room, he was stopped by a voice from the hall.
"Bhai! What happened? Whatâs with the bandage?" Aavyanâs voice carried worry, drawing the attention of everyone gathered in the hall.
Abhimanyu sighed, glancing at his younger brother. He knew the inevitable questions were about to rain down on him.
"Beta, what happened?" Dadi Maâs voice was filled with alarm as she stood up from the sofa, her frail yet determined steps bringing her closer to him. Dada followed, his expression stern but laced with concern.
"Itâs nothing, Dadi Ma. Just a little accident," Abhimanyu replied with a casual tone, but his attempt at dismissiveness did little to ease her worries. Dadi Maâs eyes widened in shock, and murmurs of concern rippled through the room as Arthi and Isha exchanged anxious glances.
At that moment, Aranv entered the hall. His sharp gaze immediately locked onto Arthi, who instinctively tried to move away. But Aranv grabbed her wrist, his grip firm as he pulled her close, his expression cold and unyielding. Arthi lowered her head, standing silently beside him, her lips pressed into a thin line.
Meanwhile, upstairs, Misha sat in her room, lost in thought. The distant hum of an approaching car broke her reverie. She sighed, pushing herself off the bed. It must be Abhimanyu. Her steps quickened as she made her way downstairs, but as she descended, her pace slowed.
The scene before her stopped her in her tracks-Abhimanyu, standing in the center of the hall, his head wrapped in a bandage, surrounded by their concerned family. Her heart sank, a mixture of relief and anger swelling within her as she slowly descended the remaining steps.
"Abhimanyu, what are you saying? This is not âlittle.â Look at your forehead!" Dadi Ma exclaimed, her voice trembling as she reached up to inspect his injury. "Did you get hurt anywhere else?"
"Iâm fine, Dadi Ma," Abhimanyu said with a faint smile, trying to reassure her. But the way his eyes darted toward Misha betrayed his thoughts. She was safe. That was all that mattered.
Misha walked toward him, her steps slow but deliberate, her expression a blend of anger and fear. The room fell silent as everyone turned to watch her. She stopped in front of him, her trembling hands clenched at her sides. Her lips quivered as she spoke, her voice soft but accusatory.
"Why donât you ever listen to me?" she asked, her eyes brimming with unshed tears, Her fear melted away, only to be replaced by a seething anger when she saw him. The nightmare she had, vivid and haunting, played over in her mind like a sickening loop. In it, he had been in an accident-one meticulously planned by Aadhiran. The terrifying image of his lifeless body flashed before her eyes.
Yet, despite the turmoil that had consumed her the night before, he had still gone to his office as if nothing had happened, as if she didnât exist. The realization hit her like a slap across the face: He didnât care about her. Not even the slightest.
She had convinced herself, foolishly, that she could give this marriage a chance. That somehow, he would come to understand her, would see past his own world and truly see her-see her pain, her fear, her silent hope. But she was wrong. All wrong. The truth was far harsher than she had ever imagined. He didnât care. Not one bit. And she hated herself for thinking that, maybe, just maybe, he could change.
Abhimanyu frowned, taken aback by her tone.
"I told you not to go to the office today," she continued, her voice rising as all the anger inside her surged out as her fear turned to anger. Her anger seemed to shock everyone, including Arthi, who stared at her with wide eyes, and Aranv, whose usual cold demeanor faltered for a moment.
"Misha-" Abhimanyu began, but she cut him off.
"Why donât you listen to me?" she yelled, her voice cracking as tears streamed down her face. Her chest heaved with suppressed sobs, and her anguish was palpable. "I had a nightmare-a horrible nightmare about you! And still, you went. What if something had happened to you, Abhi? What would I have done?" Her voice broke entirely as her hands balled into fists.
Her raw emotion sent a ripple of shock through the room. Even Aranv, who rarely showed any reaction, seemed momentarily stunned. Arthiâs hand tightened around his as she looked between Misha and Abhimanyu, concern evident in her eyes.
"I wouldâve blamed myself!" Misha cried, her voice now barely a whisper. "How could you go after I begged you not to? Why donât you care about how I feel?" Her hands shook as she pressed a trembling finger against his chest. "Do you even have a heart, Abhimanyu? Or is it made of stone?"
Abhimanyu caught her hand, holding it against his chest as he sighed. His face softened, but before he could respond, Mishaâs knees buckled. Her vision blurred, and she stumbled forward.
"You don't....." Misha's voice faltered, her words hanging in the air, unfinished. As the weight of her thoughts overwhelmed her, a dizzying wave of exhaustion swept over her. Her body swayed unsteadily, the world spinning around her, and before she could steady herself, she lost her balance.
Everything felt like too much-too much to bear. The constant fear of Aadhiran, looming like a shadow over her every move, mixed with the crushing weight of her own shattered expectations. She had hoped, foolishly, that maybe, just maybe, things could be different. But now, seeing how wrong she had been, she felt like a fool. The pain of that realization was suffocating, and her heart broke as she grappled with the truth: she had been stupid, expecting anything more from him. It was a cruel irony, one that made her question everything she had believed in.
"Misha!" Dadi Ma and Dada stepped toward her in alarm.
"Bhabhi!" Aavyan exclaimed, but Abhimanyu raised a hand, silencing them all.
Before she could hit the ground, he scooped her up effortlessly, his arms cradling her close to his chest. His face turned cold again, masking the storm of emotions raging inside him.
"Iâll take care of her," he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. Without another glance at anyone, he carried her upstairs, leaving the family staring after them in silence and concern.
Tara woke up to the soft glow of morning light filtering through her curtains. She stretched lazily, her face lighting up with an effortless smile. As she opened her eyes, she couldn't help but giggle softly, the happiness of the new day bubbling inside her. Slowly, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, the cool floor meeting her feet as she stood up. Still smiling, she walked toward the bathroom, the morning freshness making her feel alive.
After freshening up, she slipped into a simple but elegant dress. Tara twirled around in her room, her laughter echoing softly as the fabric of her dress swirled around her. Standing in front of the mirror, she pouted slightly, her eyes searching her reflection. A small, mischievous grin played on her lips.
"That bikerâs driving me crazy," she muttered to herself, a hint of annoyance mixed with an underlying excitement. She frowned for a moment, then rolled her eyes, picking up her earrings. As she slipped them on, she gave herself one last look in the mirror, adjusting her hair and smoothing out the edges of her dress. Satisfied with her appearance, she walked out of the room with a spring in her step.
When she reached the downstairs living room, Taraâs eyes immediately found Roohi sitting on the sofa, her expression distant and lost in thought. Roohi had always been easy to read, but today her face was clouded with something that Tara couldnât quite place. Tara furrowed her brow in concern but approached her sister, sitting beside her with a soft sigh.
Roohi seemed to sense her presence and looked up, offering Tara a small, forced smile. Tara studied her closely, sensing that something was off, but she didnât press.
"What are you doing here, sitting all alone?" Tara asked, her voice tinged with mild concern, her frown deepening as she observed her sister's unusual quietness.
Roohi sighed and leaned back into the sofa, her fingers absentmindedly playing with a loose thread on her sleeve. "Simplyâ¦.. Maa and Dad went out. I just thought Iâd sit here for a bit," she answered, but the smile she gave was faint, almost like she was hiding something deeper behind it.
Tara raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced. But before she could question her further, Roohi spoke again, the confusion in her voice unmistakable.
"Whatâs with you, Di? Youâre smiling way too much today," Roohi remarked, eyeing Tara as though trying to figure out the reason behind her sisterâs overly cheerful mood.
Tara sighed dramatically, leaning back and rolling her eyes in a playful gesture. "Well, I saw your jiju-well, future jiju, to be exact," she said casually, her voice carrying a note of teasing excitement.
Roohi froze, her expression morphing from confusion to surprise. She sat up straighter, her eyes wide with curiosity. "Where, Di? Who is this guy? Maa and Dad know about him?" she asked in a hushed tone, her voice filled with shock.
Tara couldnât help but laugh at her sisterâs sudden burst of questions. She reached over and pinched Roohiâs cheek affectionately, her smile filled with playful warmth. "Donât get so worked up,â Tara teased, her voice light but filled with mischief. âI saw a biker last night, and I donât know why, but I canât stop thinking about him. I donât even know who he is," she added with a dramatic shrug.
Tara sighed, a little disappointed at the thought of the mysterious bikerâs hidden identity. "Exactly. His face was completely covered by his helmet. I canât even remember what he looked like clearlyâ¦.." she trailed off, a note of frustration slipping into her tone. "But... there's something about him. I can't stop thinking about it." Tara said with sigh.
Roohi blinked in confusion, clearly processing the information. "And you didnât even see his face? His helmet covered it?" Roohiâs voice held a trace of disbelief, her eyes wide in wonder.
Roohiâs innocence shone through as she furrowed her brow and asked, "If you donât know him, then how will he become my jiju, Di?" Her voice was pure curiosity, her face scrunched up in confusion.
Tara chuckled, her laughter warm and teasing. She nudged Roohi with her elbow, the playful energy in the room shifting back to lightheartedness. "Letâs see, Rhoo. If heâs meant to be, he will be your jiju one day," Tara replied with a wink and a knowing smile.
Roohi tilted her head thoughtfully and nodded, understanding that there was some mystery at play, but also eager to see what would unfold. The two sisters shared a glance, and before long, both burst into uncontrollable laughter, the sound filling the room and lightening the mood.
Tara stood up suddenly, brushing off the lingering thoughts of the mysterious biker. "Alright, Rhoo. What do you want to eat?" she asked with a grin, her tone filled with care and curiosity.
Roohi got up too, stretching a little. "Di, Maa already prepared everything, so no need to worry," she said with a content smile, clearly relieved to avoid the task of deciding what to eat.
Taraâs eyes lit up. "Alright then, letâs go," she said, grabbing Roohiâs hand as they walked toward the dining table together. The warmth of their shared bond was evident in the simple moment, as they enjoyed each otherâs company.
After a fulfilling breakfast, they decided to head outside. The garden awaited them, the cool breeze making the flowers sway gently as the sunlight bathed the space in a soft, golden glow. Tara and Roohi walked side by side, the world around them still and peaceful. The moment felt serene, as if the universe had paused just for them to enjoy the simplicity of a morning walk together.
All of you
I already told that i will update weekly, in every Tuesday.
Shree1011r here is the update dear.
obsessed_insanely Thank you dear, you are also cute!
Will Roohi get that biker as her jiju?
Tara: she will, I will make sure she will get him as her jiju (hair flip)
Author and reader's laughing in corner knowing exactly who is the biker is......
Abhimanyu Ji, you need a character development, at this point.
Author: After seeing the great Abhimanyu Ji, I can confidently say I have never been as confused as he is-not even during my final exams. And let me tell you, I had four options to choose from. Four options! Yet, I managed to stay sane.
Abhimanyu: Oh, really? And may I ask the outcome of those final exam results, Author Ji?
Author (smirking): Sure, as long as I can ask about your past, Abhimanyu Ji.
Abhimanyu: â¦â¦â¦.
Have a Geart Day