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Ruhis pov
After Vikrant left, I headed straight to my office. On the way, I tried calling Aayansh again and again, but he didn’t pick up. I even sent him a message.
Can we talk? No reply.
I told myself he must be busy. Maybe in a meeting. Maybe driving. I decided I’d either call him again during lunch or go to his office myself.
When I reached my office, something felt different.
For the first time since everything had come out, my chest didn’t feel heavy. Talking to Vikrant, clearing things, saying the truth out loud, it had lifted a weight I didn’t even realize I was carrying. I felt lighter. Calmer. Almost… hopeful.
I pushed open the door to my cabin and froze.
Aayansh was sitting there.
He was behind my desk, focused on his laptop. When the door opened, he looked up.
But there was no smile. No warmth. No familiar softness in his eyes.
Just a calm, unreadable expression that made my heart sink.
This wasn’t the Aayansh I was used to.
And suddenly, the lightness I had felt on my way here began to fade.
For a moment, I just stood there with my hand still on the door handle, unsure how to step into the space between us. This room, which usually felt warm because of him, suddenly felt unfamiliar.
“Aayansh…” I said softly.
No response.
He turned back to his laptop, his fingers moving over the keyboard as if nothing else existed. As if I didn’t.
My chest tightened.
I walked in slowly and closed the door behind me. The sound echoed louder than it should have. I moved closer to his desk, my heart racing with every step.
“I’ve been calling you,” I said quietly. “You didn’t pick up.”
Still nothing.I swallowed hard.
“I messaged you too.”
That made him pause.
His fingers stopped moving, but he didn’t look up.
“I was busy,” he said flatly.That hurt more than silence.
I took a deep breath, reminding myself not to run away like I used to. Not today.
“I went to meet Vikrant,” I said honestly.
That did it.
He looked up.
Our eyes met, and the pain there made my breath hitch. Not anger. Not jealousy. Just… hurt. The kind that settles deep and stays quiet.
“I know,” he said.
My heart skipped. “You… know?”
“I saw you,” he replied, his voice controlled but tight. “At the café.”
The world tilted slightly.
“You saw us?” I whispered.
“Yes.” He leaned back in his chair, jaw clenched. “That’s why I didn’t reply.”
Guilt crashed into me all at once. “Aayansh, I didn’t know you were there. I swear. I called him because I needed to end things clearly. I needed to say it out loud.”
He let out a soft laugh, but there was no humor in it. “End what, Ruhi? A promise your father wanted you to keep?”
I stepped closer, my hands trembling. “No. A misunderstanding. A weight I didn’t want between us.”
I moved around the desk until I was standing right in front of him. He tried to look away, but I gently placed my hand over his, stopping him.
“I chose you,” I said firmly. “Not today. Not yesterday. I chose you a long time ago.”
His eyes flickered back to mine.
“I told him I love you,” I continued, my voice shaking but steady. “I told him I can’t fulfill that promise. That I won’t.”
Silence stretched between us.Then, slowly, he stood up.
For a terrifying second, I thought he would walk away.
Instead, he pulled me into his arms.
I gasped softly, my forehead pressing against his chest as his grip tightened around me, like he was afraid I’d disappear if he let go.
“You have no idea,” he whispered against my hair, his voice breaking, “how close I was to losing myself when I saw you with him.”
Tears burned my eyes. “I’m sorry,” I murmured. “I should’ve talked to you first.”
He pulled back just enough to look at me. “I trust you, Ruhi. But sometimes…” His voice faltered. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m really good enough for you. When I found out your father wanted someone who could protect you… I thought you might choose him. That you might choose to fulfill your dad’s promise instead of choosing me.”
I cupped his face gently. “The past doesn’t get to take you away from me,” I said softly. “No matter what, I will always choose you.”
His forehead rested against mine. “Promise?”
I smiled through my tears. “Always.”
And for the first time since yesterday, the silence between us finally broke not with words, but with understanding.
He exhaled slowly, like he’d been holding his breath for far too long.
His arms loosened just enough for him to look at me again, his eyes searching my face as if making sure I was really here. That I wasn’t going to disappear the moment he blinked.
“I hate that I doubted us,” he admitted quietly. “But when I heard about the promise… about your father… it felt like I was standing against something bigger than me.”
I shook my head gently. “You’re not standing against him,” I said softly. “You’re standing beside me. That’s all that ever mattered to him too even if he didn’t know you yet.”
His lips pressed together, emotion flickering across his face. “I didn’t reply because I was scared,” he said honestly. “Scared that if I talked, I’d say something I couldn’t take back. Or worse hear something I wasn’t ready for.”
I slid my fingers through his, grounding us both. “And I didn’t reply because I needed to finish something… not start something new.” I smiled faintly. “There’s only one future I see. And you’re already in it.”
That finally broke him.
He pulled me closer again, resting his chin on the top of my head, his hand warm against my back. We stayed like that for a while no words, just breathing each other in, letting the storm settle.
Outside, the office buzzed with life. Phones rang. Footsteps passed. Time kept moving.
But in that moment, everything felt still.
“I don’t want secrets between us,” he said after a while, his voice low. “Not about the past. Not about him. Not about anything.”
“Neither do I,” I replied immediately. “If Vikrant finds proof… if something dangerous comes out… we face it together. Okay?”
He nodded against my hair. “Together.”
I leaned back just enough to look at him. “And Aayansh?”
“Yes?”
“You are more than enough,” I said firmly. “You don’t need to compete with my past. You’re my present. And my choice.”
His eyes softened, a small smile finally breaking through the one I’d been missing all day.
“Then,” he said quietly, brushing his thumb under my eye, “I’m not going anywhere.”
I smiled back. “Good. Because neither am I.”
And as he rested his forehead against mine once more, I realized something important
The past might knock.
It might scream.
It might even try to pull me back.
But this time, I wasn’t facing it alone.
And it no longer had the power to take away what I chose to hold on to.
He was still holding me when his phone buzzed in his pocket.
Neither of us moved.It buzzed again.
I smiled slightly against his chest. “You’re not going to check that?”
“Nope,” he said instantly. “Very busy right now.”
I pulled back just enough to look at him. “Busy doing what?”
He tilted his head, pretending to think. “Rebuilding emotional stability. Extremely important work.”
I laughed a small, surprised sound that escaped me before I could stop it.
There it was. The laugh I hadn’t realized I’d missed.
He froze for a second, then smiled slowly, like he’d just won something priceless. “There. That laugh. I was waiting for that.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Waiting?”
“Yes,” he said seriously. “I was starting to worry you’d forgotten how to smile too.”
I scoffed and lightly hit his arm. “Excuse me, sir. I smile plenty.”
“Oh really?” He leaned closer, eyes sparkling. “Because from yesterday till five minutes ago, all I saw was intense, stressed, emotionally-overloaded Ruuh.”
I crossed my arms. “And what do you see now?”
He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he reached up and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
“My Ruuh,” he said softly. “Still here.”
My chest tightened in the best way.
I stood on my toes slightly and whispered, “You know… when you get all serious and quiet like that, it’s scary.”
He sighed. “I know. I’m working on it.”
“Good,” I said. “Because I prefer this version.” I poked his cheek lightly. “The one who smiles.”
He caught my finger before I could pull away. “Careful,” he warned playfully. “If you keep doing that, I might get distracted.”
“From work?” I teased.
“No,” he replied, eyes dropping to mine. “From everything.”
Heat rushed to my face.
He chuckled softly, clearly pleased, then rested his forehead against mine again. “Promise me something.”
“What?”
“No disappearing. Not emotionally. Not silently.”
I nodded, squeezing his hand. “Only if you promise not to overthink yourself into exhaustion.”
He smiled. “Deal.”
As he leaned in and I closed my eyes ….
Just then, someone knocked on the office door.
We both jumped apart instantly.
He cleared his throat. “Come in.”
As the door opened, I leaned closer and whispered quickly, “You know… you still owe me coffee.”
He smirked. “Lunch break. Café. No excuses.”
I smiled fully this time.
“Okay,” I said. “But this time no running away.”
He held my hand once more, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Never again.”
And for the first time in a long while, the weight of everything felt lighter because love, when it’s honest and chosen, has a way of doing that.
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