Abhi’s POV
I was tapping my foot continuously.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
The sound echoed in Rehan’s cabin like a broken clock with serious emotional issues.
Rehan, who had been pretending to read a file for the past ten minutes, finally looked up and glared at me.
“Abhi,” he snapped, “you are making it very obvious.”
I stopped tapping for exactly two seconds.
Then I started again.
Did I care that I was irritating him? A big, fat NO.
My entire focus was on the cabin door. Ankita was going to walk in any moment, and the anticipation of seeing her so close was making me restless in a way I had never felt before.
I, Abhinav Kapoor, who could handle business meetings, angry clients, impossible deadlines, and my mother’s emotional blackmail with perfect confidence, was now behaving like a teenager waiting outside his crush’s classroom.
Rehan threw the file on the table.
“Stop it, yaar. If your foot moves one more time, I’ll send it separately for the project.”
I glared at him.
Before I could say anything, there was a knock on the door.
My heart forgot its basic job for a second.
“Come in,” Rehan said.
The door opened, and Ankita stepped inside.
For a fraction of a second, her eyes met mine.
And everything became still.
It was just one second—maybe even less—but for me, it stretched like a lifetime. Her eyes were the same. The same eyes that had haunted my dreams for years. The same eyes that had pulled me toward her in Jaisalmer when we were younger.
But this time, something was different.
There was no spark of childish mischief in them. No liveliness. No carefree innocence.
They looked dull.
Tired.
Scared.
She immediately looked away and focused on Rehan.
I should have listened to what Rehan was telling her. I really should have. After all, this was an important professional conversation.
But my brain had resigned from its duties.
My eyes stayed fixed on her.
Her hands were trembling slightly. She was shivering too, though the cabin was not cold. Her fingers were clutching the edge of her dupatta as if it was the only thing keeping her steady.
Why was she so nervous?
Why did she look like she wanted to run away?
A strange ache settled inside my chest.
This was not the Ankita I remembered.
The girl I had seen years ago had been full of life. She had smiled at children, helped elders, laughed without worrying who was watching, and moved around like sunshine had personally selected her as its brand ambassador.
But this Ankita looked like life had dimmed her light.
My thoughts broke when she suddenly said, “No, sir. I don’t think I will be able to do it.”
My heart dropped.
No?
No?
The word hit me harder than any business loss ever could.
I looked at Rehan instantly. Before either of us could say anything, she added that she wanted to speak to Aggarwal Sir.
My mind immediately started its dramatic commentary.
Gone. Finished. Over. Pack your bags, Mr. Abhinav Kapoor. All efforts in vain.
If Aggarwal Uncle came to know that Ankita herself was unwilling, he would never allow her to work on this project. Not after the way he had already warned me.
In her hurry to leave, Ankita hit her toe against the leg of the chair.
She stumbled slightly.
I stood up immediately, ready to hold her.
But Rehan stopped me with a sharp gesture.
I froze.
Ankita managed to steady herself and left the cabin, limping a little.
The moment she was gone, I turned to Rehan.
“She was hurt. Why did you stop me? She could have fallen.”
“And then?” Rehan asked, raising his eyebrow. “You would have caught her, looked into her eyes, background music would have started, and Aggarwal Uncle would have entered with a sword?”
I ignored his sarcasm.
“I missed the opportunity because of you,” I said gloomily. “You will pay for this.”
Rehan leaned back in his chair and gave me a deadpan look.
“Abhi, please cool down. Have patience. You will get enough opportunities.”
“I don’t want opportunities. I want this opportunity.”
“If you show your desperation like this,” he said seriously, “I am sure she is not going to work with you.”
I frowned.
He continued, “Did you not see her nervousness? She is in pain, Abhi. Real pain. Not your filmy ‘I saw my sunshine and forgot my name’ pain.”
I looked toward the door through which she had left.
“Hmmm,” I replied quietly.
Maybe he was right.
No, not maybe.
He was right.
My mind scolded me immediately.
Calm down, Abhi. She is not a project to win. She is a person to understand.
Rehan went back to his work as if nothing life-changing had happened in his cabin.
How could he read files at a time like this?
I sat opposite him and asked, “Now what, yaar? Sir will accept her refusal.”
“No,” he said coolly.
I narrowed my eyes. “How are you so sure?”
“Because I know Sir,” he replied, still looking at the file. “He also wants to give her the opportunity to move ahead in life. He is protective, yes, but he is not blind. He has already sensed your desperation.”
I opened my mouth to defend myself.
Rehan lifted one finger. “Don’t deny it. Even the furniture has sensed it.”
I closed my mouth.
He continued, “And if I know Sir, he will be happy if Ankita takes one step forward. He wants her to move on.”
His words gave me some hope, but I was still not fully convinced.
So I did the only mature thing I could do.
I started pacing.
From one end of the cabin to the other.
Back and forth.
Like a businessman waiting for a deal.
Like a groom waiting for his bride.
Like a fool waiting for one girl’s answer.
After some time, I saw Ankita coming from Aggarwal Sir’s cabin. My heart jumped. Expecting her to come to us, I quickly went back and sat on the couch.
Casually.
Or at least, I tried to look casual.
Rehan looked up from his file and gave me a strange look.
“What happened?”
“She’s coming here, I think,” I whispered.
“And?”
“You told me to behave normal.”
Rehan narrowed his eyes at me.
“I can see that. Your version of normal looks like you swallowed a live electric wire.”
But then Ankita crossed our cabin and went straight toward her department.
Rehan pressed his lips together, trying to control his laughter.
I punched his arm.
“You are finding this funny?”
“Very,” he said, failing badly at hiding his smile.
Through the glass door, I saw Ankita packing her things. She was about to leave.
Panic rose inside me again.
“Rehan, please go and ask her,” I said quickly. “If you don’t, I will confront her myself.”
Rehan looked at me in horror.
“I am in big trouble, I think.”
“What?”
“You are acting like a lovesick puppy.”
I looked at him sharply.
“I have been behaving like a lovesick puppy for four days. But what about you, Mr. Rehan?”
His smile vanished.
I leaned forward.
“I think I should tell Mia about you.”
Rehan’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t.”
“Oh, I would.”
He cursed under his breath.
And just like that, I knew I had won.
Rehan stood up and casually opened the cabin door just before Ankita could pass through the corridor. He was too smart. He knew exactly how to handle tricky situations without making them look like tricky situations.
Seeing Rehan, Ankita stopped.
I stood just behind him, trying to behave like a mature, respected businessman and not like a man who had forgotten how breathing worked.
“So, Ankita,” Rehan said professionally, “you spoke with Aggarwal Sir?”
She hesitated for a moment and then looked at both of us.
“Yes, sir. I am ready for the new task.”
Ready.
She said yes.
My heart did a full baraat dance inside my chest.
“Good,” Rehan said, maintaining his professional tone. “Best of luck. Don’t worry, we will take care of everything.”
He looked completely calm.
How?
How could he be calm?
I, on the other hand, could not hide my happiness. A smile spread across my face before I could stop it.
Ankita noticed.
Her eyes lowered immediately.
“Thank you, sir,” she said softly and walked away.
The moment she crossed the corridor, Rehan pulled me back inside the cabin.
“You are not going out right now,” he warned. “Don’t go behind her before the project starts. I am telling you clearly, Aggarwal Uncle will throw both of us out.”
“No, yaar,” I said, still smiling. “I won’t let that happen. Chill.”
He gave me a suspicious look.
“I’ll see you at night,” I added. “I have some work at my office too.”
I did not even wait for his response. I was too happy.
I walked out, feeling lighter than I had in years.
I started my car and was about to leave when I saw Ankita struggling with her scooty in the parking area.
She kicked the starter once.
Then again.
Then she bent slightly and murmured something to the scooty.
She looked cute.
No, not cute.
Dangerously cute.
The kind of cute that could make a grown man forget traffic rules.
Now, before anyone judges me, let me tell you one important fact about myself.
I, Abhinav Kapoor, always wanted to be a mechanic.
Yes, I am serious.
People dream of becoming kings, actors, CEOs, pilots. I dreamt of opening engines and understanding machines.
I am obsessed with cars. This beautiful madness was gifted to me by my father. Till today, nobody touches my cars. Nobody. I am not comfortable handing them over to anyone. I know every sound, every vibration, every mood of my vehicles.
Yes, vehicles have moods.
Don’t argue with me.
I can listen to a car and tell what problem it has. Some people understand poetry. I understand engines.
And looking at Ankita’s scooty, I knew immediately.
Battery issue.
My inner mechanic woke up, stretched proudly, and said, Abhi, this is your moment.
I wanted to go and help her.
But then another voice spoke inside my head.
If Aggarwal Uncle sees you near her scooty, he will remove your battery permanently.
So I stayed in the car.
“Hold your horses, Abhi,” I muttered. “Relax. Don’t worry. Soon this scooty is going to be in my mechanic shop.”
Finally, the scooty started.
Ankita stopped near the market to buy vegetables and then drove toward her house without halting anywhere else.
I followed her.
Not too close.
Not too obvious.
At least, that was what I told myself.
When she reached home, she rang the bell. Her mother opened the door. Ankita hugged her, handed her the vegetable bag, and went inside.
I waited for some time before driving back.
The thought that she would be working with me on the new project was overwhelming.
Whatever her past was, I did not care.
I was only happy to know that she was alone now, that maybe, just maybe, life had brought her back to me for a reason.
This time, I would not lose her.
But there was something else too.
Her trembling hands.
Her nervous eyes.
Her fear.
Those things were not leaving my mind.
She needed to talk about her fears. She needed someone who would listen without judging. Someone who would not rush her. Someone who would stand beside her until she felt safe enough to smile again.
I wanted to be that person.
The next morning, I woke up before Rehan.
This was such a rare event that even the sun must have checked twice.
When Rehan saw me awake, he narrowed his eyes.
“From where did this sun rise today? The great Abhinav Kapoor got up early? May I know the reason?”
“I have some work,” I said, rubbing my neck. “I have to reach office early.”
“Sure,” he said slowly. “I hope you are not messing things up.”
“No, no. I have work. Seriously.”
He stared at me.
I stared back with my most innocent face.
Unfortunately, my innocent face has never convinced anyone.
We had breakfast. Rehan had made sandwiches, and I had to admit, he was a good cook.
Mia was going to be lucky.
While eating, a thought came to my mind.
Maybe I should take cooking classes.
A man who can cook has an advantage. A man who can fix cars and cook? Dangerous combination.
Ankita Kapoor had a nice ring to it.
I choked on my own thought and quickly drank water.
Without telling Rehan where I was going, I left and reached Ankita’s house. I stopped my car at a good distance, somewhere I could see her without making it obvious.
She came out at quarter to eight.
She wore a grey suit, simple and elegant. Her hair was neatly braided. She had no makeup on, yet she looked beautiful. Even though her old charm seemed buried under sadness, there was still something deeply graceful about her.
She started her scooty and left.
After two or three minutes, I followed.
She stopped near a park and went inside.
I stayed in my car and watched from a distance.
She sat on a bench, looking at children playing with their mothers. There was something about the way she watched them—quiet, longing, lost.
When she finally got up, her face looked sadder than before.
Her eyes were watery.
My hands tightened around the steering wheel.
I wanted to go to her.
I wanted to hold her.
I wanted to ask who had hurt her so deeply that even a park full of children could make her eyes fill with tears.
But I stopped myself.
Not yet, Abhi.
There was still time.
I had to earn the right to stand close to her pain.
After that, she reached office. Ten minutes later, I reached Rehan’s office.
To my bad luck, Rehan was standing in the parking area as if he had personally been appointed as the security guard of my bad decisions.
He walked toward me with a grim face.
“Do you have a vacancy?”
I looked at him in confusion.
“What?”
“Because Aggarwal Uncle is definitely going to kick me out if he sees you in the premises again and again,” he said. “So I should find a job, na? I cannot stay jobless.”
I smirked.
“I was just making sure she is okay.”
Rehan folded his hands dramatically.
“Bhai, don’t worry. I am here only. I will take care. Now have mercy on me and please go.”
I started walking toward my car, but suddenly turned back.
“Why will you take care of my sunshine?”
Rehan looked upward, facepalmed, and muttered something about my mental condition.
Then he said, “Bhai, she is my bhabhi. I will take care of her as my bhabhi. Happy now?”
I smiled.
“Then it’s okay.”
I liked irritating him.
Seeing me early in office, my staff looked shocked.
Very shocked.
One employee even checked his watch twice, as if confirming whether time itself had malfunctioned.
I ignored everyone and went straight to my cabin.
I wanted to finish my work as fast as possible.
Normally, I preferred working in the evenings and late nights. I knew that habit irritated some of my male staff, but I was not a strict boss. I was lenient with attendance and timings as long as the work was not affected.
But when it came to deadlines, I was very particular.
Work had to be done.
Commitments had to be met.
And today, I had a new commitment.
To see my sunshine.
In the evening, I left early.
I was sure my staff was amazed again. Maybe tomorrow they would perform a small aarti at the office entrance to welcome this new, punctual version of me.
But nothing mattered.
I wanted to see Ankita.
That was all.
Ankita’s POV
When I started walking toward the exit, Rehan Sir came out of his cabin and stopped when he noticed me.
“Ankita,” he asked, “did you speak with Aggarwal Sir?”
I immediately scolded myself.
I had accepted the task but had forgotten to inform Rehan Sir. My mind had been so clouded with nervousness that basic office manners had packed their bags and left.
“Yes, sir,” I said softly. “I am ready for the new activity.”
Rehan Sir nodded.
“Good. Best of luck. Don’t worry, we are with you.”
His words gave me some relief.
Abhinav Sir was also standing behind him. I noticed something strange when I said yes.
He smiled.
Not just a normal smile.
A happy one.
Almost like my acceptance had personally given him Diwali, Holi, and New Year on the same day.
I quickly lowered my eyes.
Why was he so happy?
I thanked them and moved away.
My mind was crowded with questions.
How would I cope with this situation?
Would I be able to work properly?
Would I be able to justify the trust Aggarwal Sir had placed in me?
Would I be able to keep my fears away?
Mr. Abhinav seemed fine. He was also Rehan Sir’s friend, so maybe he would not be harmful. But what about my insecurities? What about the panic that rose in me for no reason? What about the memories that came like uninvited guests and refused to leave?
I only hoped I would not create a mess.
I did not want Aggarwal Sir to face any problem because of me.
When I started my scooty, it refused to cooperate.
I pressed the starter.
Nothing.
Again.
Still nothing.
I looked at it helplessly.
“Today only you also had to do drama?” I muttered.
First this new project.
Now this scooty.
Apparently, even machines had decided to test my patience.
After a few more tries, it finally started. I let out a breath of relief and drove toward the market.
On the way, I purchased vegetables and then went home.
When I reached, Ma opened the door. I hugged her immediately and handed her the vegetable bag.
She looked at me closely.
“What happened?”
“Nothing, Ma,” I said.
But of course, mothers have built-in lie detectors. Especially Indian mothers. They can detect sadness from another room, hunger from another city, and secrets from another birth.
During dinner, I told her about the new task.
Ma became happy.
She held my hand and said, “You will do it. Don’t worry about anything.”
I smiled faintly.
I felt bad when I saw how hard she tried for my happiness. She had already suffered so much because of me, yet every day she stood strong, only to keep me standing.
She was my strength.
I did not know what I would have done, or what would have happened to me, if she had not been with me.
That night, sleep did not come easily.
First, anxiety kept me awake.
Then, when I finally slept, the nightmare came.
The same darkness.
The same helplessness.
The same feeling of being trapped in a memory I could not escape.
I woke up with a jerk, breathing heavily.
For a few minutes, I sat on the bed, trying to remind myself that I was safe.
That it was over.
That I was at home.
That Ma was in the next room.
After some time, I got up, washed my face, and started the day like always.
I prepared breakfast and lunch, packed everything, and got ready for office.
On the way, I suddenly felt strange.
As if someone’s eyes were on me.
As if someone was watching my movements.
I tightened my grip on the scooty handle.
Maybe it was just my imagination.
Maybe it was because of overthinking.
Maybe my mind was creating fears where there were none.
I did not look around.
I kept driving.
After all, I had bigger things to worry about.
A new project.
A new responsibility.
And a man whose smile confused me more than it should have.
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