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The antiseptic smell of the hospital was surprisingly comforting to Ameya (in Jenna's body). As she sat on the clinical bed, her foot wrapped in a thick, impressive layer of bandages, she felt a wave of relief.
Nearby, Jenna's manager was paced back and forth, his phone pressed to his ear as he delivered the news to the event organizers. "Yes, I'm sorry. It's a severe sprain. We have to cancel the showcase performance. Jenna's health comes first."
Ameya took a slow sip of her apple juice, a tiny, triumphant smile tugging at her lips. The moment the manager turned around, the smile vanished, replaced by a mask of weary pain.
"Don't worry, Jenna," the manager said, his voice dripping with concern. "You have to recover first. That's the most important thing. The fans will understand."
Ameya nodded weakly, feeling a sharp pang of guilt. She was totally faking the intensity of the injury. Thank you, acting classes, she thought. And thank you, Jenna, for having such a high-stakes career. If I had stepped onto that stage tonight, I would have ruined your reputation in five minutes. I can't dance like you.
"I called Michael," the manager added suddenly. "He's on his way."
Ameya nearly choked on her juice. Her eyes widened. "Why? Why did you call him?"
The manager chuckled, confused by her reaction. "Then who else? He's your fiancé, isn't he? He'd kill me if I didn't tell him you were in the hospital."
Ameya whispered under her breath, "Everything is officially doomed."
"I'm heading out to handle the press," the manager said, patting her hand. "Take care."
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The Fiancé's Fury
Not ten minutes after the door closed, it swung open again with a violent bang. Michael rushed in, his breathing ragged, looking like he had run the entire way from his film set. He didn't say a word before grabbing Ameya's hand.
"Are you alright? What happened?" he demanded, his eyes searching hers for an answer.
"I'm fine, Michael," Ameya said, her voice small. She gently tried to pull her hand away. "Why did you come? Weren't you in the middle of a big shooting day?"
Michael's face turned stony. "How can I let my fiancé stay alone in a hospital?" He grabbed her hand again, tighter this time, refusing to let go. "I canceled the shooting. Nothing is more important than you."
Ameya felt a heavy weight in her chest. The guilt was becoming unbearable. He loves Jenna so much, she thought sadly. What would he do if he knew the woman he was sacrificing his career for today is actually Ameya?
"I... I think I should sleep," Ameya stammered, looking for an escape. "I have a little headache."
"Wait, I'll help," Michael said softly. Before she could protest, his hands were on her temples, beginning a slow, rhythmic massage.
The room went quiet, but the tension was electric. After a moment, Michael leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous murmur. "Why did you push me away at the mall yesterday? When I was about to kiss you?"
Ameya swallowed hard, her mouth trembling. "That... I..."
Michael gave a mockingly sharp smile. "Do you want a punishment for that?"
Ameya's heart raced. Is he going to kiss me right now? No! As Michael began to lean in, his face inches from hers, she bolted upright and pressed her palms against his chest, holding him back.
Michael stopped, his brow furrowed in genuine confusion.
"No... look! My foot is sprained!" Ameya said with an awkward, frantic smile.
Michael smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Yes, but a kiss doesn't affect your foot, Jenna." He started to lean in again.
"Wait!" she cried out. "Do you want to know why I stopped you?"
Michael paused, listening. "Why?"
"Because... because you've been so romantic lately!" she blurted out.
Michael scoffed. "No, we haven't even kissed in a week. What are you talking about?"
What am I blabbering about? Ameya screamed internally. She scrambled for a reason—any reason. "We... we have to control ourselves! No kissing until the wedding. It's... a vow!"
Michael's smile disappeared, replaced by a look of annoyed disappointment. "What? Seriously Jenna,".
Jenna said lower voice," you're being too clingy with these days. Behave yourself."
He stood up, looking at her with a hurt expression. "You've changed. Do you even really want to marry me?"
The question hit Ameya like a physical blow. What have I done? she panicked. I can't be the reason Jenna and Michael break up. I can't destroy their relationship.
Suddenly, she reached out and grabbed his hand back. "I love you a lot! Why would you say something like that?"
Michael sighed, looking exhausted. "Then why are you avoiding me? What happened to you, Jenna? You're like a different person."
Ameya forced a smile, her heart breaking for him. "How can I tell you..." she whispered so low he couldn't hear.
"What was that?"
"Nothing," Ameya said quickly.
Michael looked at her for a long time, then finally sat back down. "Fine. I won't kiss you until the wedding." He smirked knowingly, a spark of his usual confidence returning. "But you know you won't be able to stop me after that."
Ameya's eyes widened in pure terror. She looked toward the ceiling, praying silently. I have to get back to my own body before the wedding... please, God, help me find a solution before it's too late.
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To be Continued........
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