21-09-2025, 12:28 PM
The weight of Ammi’s words stayed in the room like a cloudy storm. What have you done, Nabila? Her question echoed in my mind, each word a sharp reminder of the risks I’d taken. Adulteress. Unfit mother. The words stung, not because they were true, but because they could be wielded as weapons in a conservative society that judged women so harshly. Alone, I curled up on the couch. I can’t lose Adnan. I won’t. But Ranjeet… he’s the only thing keeping me sane right now. I needed space to think, to breathe, to piece together the fragments of my life.
The next morning, I called Priya from HR. My voice was steady, but my hands trembled as I spoke. “I need two days off,” I said, citing health issues. It wasn’t entirely a lie-the bruise on my cheek was a glaring truth, and the exhaustion in my bones was real. I just need time to hide, to heal, to figure out what comes next. She was sympathetic, granting the leave without question. I hung up, grateful for the small mercy.
For two days, I stayed put in Ammi’s flat. Adnan’s laughter as he played with his old toys was a balm, grounding me in the present. Ammi was a quiet fortress, cooking meals and fussing over us without pressing for more answers. My phone buzzed incessantly with Asif’s calls and texts, each one a fresh stab of anger and fear. He thinks he can bully me back into that cage. I ignored every call, every message, until finally, I typed a single reply: Stop bothering me. I’m done. After that, I muted his number, letting the silence be my shield.
Ranjeet, though, was different. His messages came sparingly, gentle and concerned, never pushing too hard. Nabila, just checking in. Are you okay? or Thinking of you and Adnan. Let me know when you’re ready to talk. Each one felt like a lifeline, pulling me back from the edge. Late at night, when Ammi and Adnan were asleep, I’d slip out to the balcony, the Mumbai skyline a glittering chaos below. The cool night air brushed against my skin, and I’d dial Ranjeet’s number, keeping my voice low. He’s not Asif. He listens. He cares.
“Jaan?” His voice answered on the first ring, soft but urgent, like he’d been waiting by the phone. “You okay?”
I leaned against the railing, clutching the phone tighter. “I’m okay,” I whispered, though my voice cracked. Am I? I don’t even know anymore. “Just… needed to hear you.”
There was a pause, and I could almost hear him exhale, like he was steadying himself. “I’m right here, Nabila. Always. You don’t have to go through this alone.”
The words wrapped around me like a warm blanket, soothing the raw edges of my heart. “It’s so hard, Ranjeet,” I admitted, my voice barely audible. “Ammi knows about us now. She’s… she’s not happy. She thinks I’ve ruined everything.”
“Hey, hey,” he soothed, his tone gentle but firm. “You haven’t ruined anything. You’re protecting yourself, protecting Adnan. That’s what matters. Your Ammi… she’s just scared for you. Give her time.”
He’s right, but it doesn’t make it hurt less. I swallowed hard, the bruise on my cheek throbbing faintly. “She said Asif could use us to take Adnan away. I’m so scared, Ranjeet. I can’t lose him.”
“You won’t,” he said fiercely, his voice low but unwavering. “I won’t let that happen. We’ll figure this out together, okay? Step by step. You’re not fighting this alone.”
Together. The word felt like a promise, a lifeline in the storm. I closed my eyes, letting his certainty anchor me. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” I whispered. “You make me feel… like I’m worth something again.”
“Nabila,” he said, his voice softening to something almost reverent. “You’re worth everything. You’re the strongest woman I know. What you did,that’s courage. Don’t ever forget that.”
A tear slipped down my cheek, but it wasn’t from pain. It was relief, the kind that comes from being seen. He sees me, not just the mess I’ve made. “Thank you,” I murmured. “For being you. For… not giving up on me.”
“Never,” he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “You’re stuck with me, wildfire. Get some rest, okay? We’ll talk tomorrow. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Goodnight, Ranjeet,” I said, my voice steadier now.
“Goodnight, Jaan.”
I hung up, the silence of the night settling around me. Those brief conversations were my anchor, reminding me that I wasn’t alone. He’s my safe place. And right now, that’s enough.
After two days, the bruise on my cheek had completely healed, leaving no trace of Asif’s violence. I stood before the mirror in my old bedroom, studying my reflection. The woman staring back was not the broken figure I feared seeing-she was confident, courageous, her eyes blazing with a spark of defiance. I can’t hide forever. I have to face the world. I chose my outfit carefully, wanting to embody the strength I felt rising within me. I slipped into a vibrant maroon kurti with intricate silver embroidery along the hem and sleeves, its flowing silhouette both elegant and commanding. Paired with white leggings that hugged my legs comfortably. I dbangd a sheer maroon dupatta loosely over the shoulders, its delicate shimmer catching the light. Small silver hoop earrings gleamed against my skin, and I tied my hair elegantly into a sleek, high bun.
Returning to work felt like stepping onto a tightrope. The office was a familiar chaos of ringing phones and clacking keyboards, but every glance from a colleague felt like scrutiny. Do they know? Can they sense the storm I’m carrying? I pushed the paranoia down, smoothing my dupatta as I settled at my desk, letting the rhythm of work dull the edges of my anxiety.
Ranjeet was there, of course, sitting behind a giant table,in his glassed cabin. He gently nodded at me when our eyes met. In front of others, he kept the professionalism-nodding politely, discussing campaign strategies with the same calm efficiency as always. He’s protecting me, I realized, grateful for his restraint. But during lunch, when we slipped away to the canteen, his demeanor softened. We sat at a corner table, away from prying eyes, and he leaned forward, his voice low and warm.
“How are you holding up, Nabila?” he asked, his eyes searching mine.
I managed a small smile. “Better. Ammi’s taking care of us. It’s… a lot, but I’m managing.”
He nodded, his fingers brushing mine briefly under the table. “You’re stronger than you know. I’m here, okay? Whenever you need me.”
But during lunch, when we slipped away to the canteen, his demeanor softened. We sat at a corner table, away from prying eyes, and he leaned forward, his voice low and warm.
“How are you holding up, Nabila?” he asked, his eyes searching mine.
I managed a small smile. “Better. Ammi’s taking care of us. It’s… a lot, but I’m managing.”
He nodded, his fingers brushing mine briefly under the table. “You’re stronger than you know. I’m here, okay? Whenever you need me.”
He means it. The thought warmed me, loosening the knot in my chest. “Thanks, Ranjeet,” I said, stirring my coffee to avoid his gaze for a moment. “So, what’s the latest around here? I feel like I’ve been gone for ages.”
He grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Oh, you missed some drama. You know Priya from HR? She’s convinced the new intern is spying for the rival firm. Swears she saw him taking photos of her spreadsheets.”
I laughed, the sound surprising me with its lightness. “Priya and her conspiracy theories. What’s next, corporate espionage over the photocopier?”
“Right?” He chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “And don’t get me started on the coffee. I swear, they’re brewing it with decaf just to torture us.”
I wrinkled my nose, glancing at my cup. “This stuff is awful. Tastes like burnt socks. Why do we even drink it?”
“Because it’s free,” he said with a playful wink. “And because it gives us an excuse to sit here and talk.”
I felt a flush creep up my cheeks, but I met his gaze, emboldened. “Is that so? And here I thought you just liked my sparkling company.”
“Oh, I do,” he said, his voice dropping to a teasing murmur. “Sparkling, fiery, the whole package. You’re making it hard to focus on those campaign reports, you know.”
I rolled my eyes, but my heart fluttered. “Flatterer. You’re not so bad yourself, Mr. Smooth Talker.”
He leaned closer, his tone shifting to something softer, more intimate. “You know, Nabila, I was thinking… maybe we could get away for a bit. Just you and me. Somewhere quiet, away from all this noise. A proper evening, not just stolen moments like this.”
My pulse quickened, a mix of excitement and caution swirling in my chest. “An evening, huh?” I said, keeping my tone light but my eyes locked on his. “What kind of evening are we talking about, Ranjeet?”
He smiled, a slow, warm curve that made my stomach flip. “Nothing fancy. Maybe dinner, a walk by the sea at Bandstand. Somewhere we can just… be together. Talk without looking over our shoulders. What do you say?”
I wanted to say yes. But the weight of Ammi’s warnings tugged at me. “It sounds wonderful,” I admitted, my voice softening. “But… it’s complicated, Ranjeet. I can’t just… ”
His expression didn’t falter, his eyes still warm, understanding. “I know, Jaan. I’m not asking you to run away with me-not yet,” he added with a playful glint. “Just a few hours. When you’re ready. You deserve a moment to feel free, Nabila. To feel like you again.”
I swallowed, my fingers tightening around my cup. “Soon,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “Give me a little time, okay?”
“Always,” he said, his hand brushing mine again, lingering just a moment longer. “I’ll wait as long as it takes.”
He leaned closer, his tone softening. “Seriously, though, Nabila. You look… different today. Stronger. Like you’re ready to take on the world.”
He sees it. He sees me. I swallowed, my smile softening. “I’m trying. One day at a time, right?”
“One day at a time,” he echoed, his gaze steady and sure. “And I’m with you for every one of them.”
For those few minutes, as we bantered and sipped terrible coffee, I felt almost normal again. The weight of the past didn’t vanish, but it felt lighter, like I could carry it without breaking.
The following week, life began to settle into a fragile routine. Asif’s calls and texts stopped after my message, his silence a victory I hadn’t dared hope for. Maybe he’s given up. Or maybe he’s plotting. The thought lingered, but I pushed it aside, focusing on Adnan and work. Ammi remained vigilant, her eyes sharp whenever the phone rang, but she didn’t bring up Ranjeet again.
Ranjeet and I fell into an easy rhythm at work, but the office was a minefield of politics and whispered alliances. The marketing team was buzzing with tension over who’d lead the next big campaign, with Priya from HR stirring the pot by hinting she’d overheard the boss favoring Ranjeet over Neha, who’d been gunning for the role. Whispers of favoritism and late-night meetings floated through the cubicles, and I could feel the weight of curious eyes whenever I passed by. They’re watching everyone, not just me. But it still feels like I’m under a microscope.
Ranjeet, though, was my safe harbor. Our conversations grew lighter, the tension between us easing like a slowly uncoiling spring. He slipped in casual flirtations, his eyes twinkling as he teased me about my choice of earrings or the way I organized my desk. “You’re too neat, Nabila,” he’d say with a grin, leaning over my desk during a quiet moment. “It’s unnatural?”
I’d roll my eyes, but my heart fluttered. “Someone has to keep things in order around here,” I shot back, nudging his arm playfully. I responded in kind, testing the waters with a coy smile or a teasing comment, our connection rebuilding in stolen moments-brushing hands in the corridor, sharing knowing glances during meetings.
But not everyone’s attention was welcome. Vikram from admin, with his slicked-back hair and overconfident swagger, came to my desk, his eyes lingering too long. As I was sorting through campaign drafts, he sauntered over, leaning against my cubicle with a grin that was all charm and no sincerity. “Nabila, you’re looking gorgeous today,” he said, his voice loud enough to draw a few glances. “ Fancy grabbing a coffee later? I know a great spot nearby.”
I kept my eyes on my papers, forcing a polite smile. “Thanks, Vikram, but I’m overloaded. Maybe another time.”
He didn’t take the hint, his grin widening. “Come on, you can’t work all the time. A break with me might do you good.” He winked, and I caught Priya smirking from across the room.
Before I could respond, Ranjeet appeared, his expression neutral but his eyes sharp. “Nabila, you ready to go over those ad copies? We need them by end of day.” His tone was professional, but the way he stood, close and protective, sent a clear message.
Vikram’s smile faltered. “Right, duty calls,” he said, backing off with a forced chuckle. “Catch you later, Nabila.”
Thank you, Ranjeet. I nodded, grateful for the save. “Let’s do it,” I said, grabbing my notes and following him to a quiet corner. Once we were alone, he dropped his voice, his teasing grin returning. “You okay? Vikram is chutiya no.1.”
I sighed, my shoulders relaxing. “yeah….He’s just annoying. Thanks for stepping in.”
“Anytime” he murmured, his fingers brushing mine briefly. “Can’t let anyone steal my favorite lunch partner.”
By the end of the week, the office felt less like a battlefield and more like a sanctuary. On Friday, after a long meeting, Ranjeet caught me alone in the break room, refilling my coffee. The door was closed, the hum of the office muffled. He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “You look beautiful today, wildfire.”
The old nickname sent a shiver down my spine.I met his gaze, my pulse quickening. “You’re trouble, you know that?”
“The best kind,” he murmured, stepping closer still. The air between us crackled, heavy with unspoken longing. Before I could think, his hands cupped my face and he kissed me. It was fierce, hungry, a collision of need and relief. I kissed him back, my hands gripping his shirt, pulling him closer. The world fell away, leaving only the heat of his lips, the press of his body against mine.
We stumbled back against the counter, the kiss deepening, our breaths mingling in a desperate rhythm. His hands slid to my waist, and I felt a fire ignite inside me, a reclaiming of my own desire.For a moment, we were lost in each other, the office fading into irrelevance.
A distant laugh from the corridor snapped us back to reality. We pulled apart, breathless, our eyes locked in a shared understanding. “We can’t… not here,” I whispered, my voice shaky but firm.
He nodded, his thumb brushing my lip. “Soon, Jaan. Somewhere safe.”
I straightened my clothes, my heart still racing. What am I doing? This is reckless. But as I looked at him, his eyes full of love and restraint, I knew I wasn’t wrong to want this. I deserve this. I deserve him.
As I walked back to my desk, the weight of the past week felt lighter. Life wasn’t fixed, not by a long shot. Asif’s shadow still loomed, and Ammi’s disapproval hung over me like a storm waiting to break. But for the first time in years, I felt like I was moving forward, not just surviving.
The next morning, I called Priya from HR. My voice was steady, but my hands trembled as I spoke. “I need two days off,” I said, citing health issues. It wasn’t entirely a lie-the bruise on my cheek was a glaring truth, and the exhaustion in my bones was real. I just need time to hide, to heal, to figure out what comes next. She was sympathetic, granting the leave without question. I hung up, grateful for the small mercy.
For two days, I stayed put in Ammi’s flat. Adnan’s laughter as he played with his old toys was a balm, grounding me in the present. Ammi was a quiet fortress, cooking meals and fussing over us without pressing for more answers. My phone buzzed incessantly with Asif’s calls and texts, each one a fresh stab of anger and fear. He thinks he can bully me back into that cage. I ignored every call, every message, until finally, I typed a single reply: Stop bothering me. I’m done. After that, I muted his number, letting the silence be my shield.
Ranjeet, though, was different. His messages came sparingly, gentle and concerned, never pushing too hard. Nabila, just checking in. Are you okay? or Thinking of you and Adnan. Let me know when you’re ready to talk. Each one felt like a lifeline, pulling me back from the edge. Late at night, when Ammi and Adnan were asleep, I’d slip out to the balcony, the Mumbai skyline a glittering chaos below. The cool night air brushed against my skin, and I’d dial Ranjeet’s number, keeping my voice low. He’s not Asif. He listens. He cares.
“Jaan?” His voice answered on the first ring, soft but urgent, like he’d been waiting by the phone. “You okay?”
I leaned against the railing, clutching the phone tighter. “I’m okay,” I whispered, though my voice cracked. Am I? I don’t even know anymore. “Just… needed to hear you.”
There was a pause, and I could almost hear him exhale, like he was steadying himself. “I’m right here, Nabila. Always. You don’t have to go through this alone.”
The words wrapped around me like a warm blanket, soothing the raw edges of my heart. “It’s so hard, Ranjeet,” I admitted, my voice barely audible. “Ammi knows about us now. She’s… she’s not happy. She thinks I’ve ruined everything.”
“Hey, hey,” he soothed, his tone gentle but firm. “You haven’t ruined anything. You’re protecting yourself, protecting Adnan. That’s what matters. Your Ammi… she’s just scared for you. Give her time.”
He’s right, but it doesn’t make it hurt less. I swallowed hard, the bruise on my cheek throbbing faintly. “She said Asif could use us to take Adnan away. I’m so scared, Ranjeet. I can’t lose him.”
“You won’t,” he said fiercely, his voice low but unwavering. “I won’t let that happen. We’ll figure this out together, okay? Step by step. You’re not fighting this alone.”
Together. The word felt like a promise, a lifeline in the storm. I closed my eyes, letting his certainty anchor me. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” I whispered. “You make me feel… like I’m worth something again.”
“Nabila,” he said, his voice softening to something almost reverent. “You’re worth everything. You’re the strongest woman I know. What you did,that’s courage. Don’t ever forget that.”
A tear slipped down my cheek, but it wasn’t from pain. It was relief, the kind that comes from being seen. He sees me, not just the mess I’ve made. “Thank you,” I murmured. “For being you. For… not giving up on me.”
“Never,” he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “You’re stuck with me, wildfire. Get some rest, okay? We’ll talk tomorrow. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Goodnight, Ranjeet,” I said, my voice steadier now.
“Goodnight, Jaan.”
I hung up, the silence of the night settling around me. Those brief conversations were my anchor, reminding me that I wasn’t alone. He’s my safe place. And right now, that’s enough.
After two days, the bruise on my cheek had completely healed, leaving no trace of Asif’s violence. I stood before the mirror in my old bedroom, studying my reflection. The woman staring back was not the broken figure I feared seeing-she was confident, courageous, her eyes blazing with a spark of defiance. I can’t hide forever. I have to face the world. I chose my outfit carefully, wanting to embody the strength I felt rising within me. I slipped into a vibrant maroon kurti with intricate silver embroidery along the hem and sleeves, its flowing silhouette both elegant and commanding. Paired with white leggings that hugged my legs comfortably. I dbangd a sheer maroon dupatta loosely over the shoulders, its delicate shimmer catching the light. Small silver hoop earrings gleamed against my skin, and I tied my hair elegantly into a sleek, high bun.
Returning to work felt like stepping onto a tightrope. The office was a familiar chaos of ringing phones and clacking keyboards, but every glance from a colleague felt like scrutiny. Do they know? Can they sense the storm I’m carrying? I pushed the paranoia down, smoothing my dupatta as I settled at my desk, letting the rhythm of work dull the edges of my anxiety.
Ranjeet was there, of course, sitting behind a giant table,in his glassed cabin. He gently nodded at me when our eyes met. In front of others, he kept the professionalism-nodding politely, discussing campaign strategies with the same calm efficiency as always. He’s protecting me, I realized, grateful for his restraint. But during lunch, when we slipped away to the canteen, his demeanor softened. We sat at a corner table, away from prying eyes, and he leaned forward, his voice low and warm.
“How are you holding up, Nabila?” he asked, his eyes searching mine.
I managed a small smile. “Better. Ammi’s taking care of us. It’s… a lot, but I’m managing.”
He nodded, his fingers brushing mine briefly under the table. “You’re stronger than you know. I’m here, okay? Whenever you need me.”
But during lunch, when we slipped away to the canteen, his demeanor softened. We sat at a corner table, away from prying eyes, and he leaned forward, his voice low and warm.
“How are you holding up, Nabila?” he asked, his eyes searching mine.
I managed a small smile. “Better. Ammi’s taking care of us. It’s… a lot, but I’m managing.”
He nodded, his fingers brushing mine briefly under the table. “You’re stronger than you know. I’m here, okay? Whenever you need me.”
He means it. The thought warmed me, loosening the knot in my chest. “Thanks, Ranjeet,” I said, stirring my coffee to avoid his gaze for a moment. “So, what’s the latest around here? I feel like I’ve been gone for ages.”
He grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Oh, you missed some drama. You know Priya from HR? She’s convinced the new intern is spying for the rival firm. Swears she saw him taking photos of her spreadsheets.”
I laughed, the sound surprising me with its lightness. “Priya and her conspiracy theories. What’s next, corporate espionage over the photocopier?”
“Right?” He chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “And don’t get me started on the coffee. I swear, they’re brewing it with decaf just to torture us.”
I wrinkled my nose, glancing at my cup. “This stuff is awful. Tastes like burnt socks. Why do we even drink it?”
“Because it’s free,” he said with a playful wink. “And because it gives us an excuse to sit here and talk.”
I felt a flush creep up my cheeks, but I met his gaze, emboldened. “Is that so? And here I thought you just liked my sparkling company.”
“Oh, I do,” he said, his voice dropping to a teasing murmur. “Sparkling, fiery, the whole package. You’re making it hard to focus on those campaign reports, you know.”
I rolled my eyes, but my heart fluttered. “Flatterer. You’re not so bad yourself, Mr. Smooth Talker.”
He leaned closer, his tone shifting to something softer, more intimate. “You know, Nabila, I was thinking… maybe we could get away for a bit. Just you and me. Somewhere quiet, away from all this noise. A proper evening, not just stolen moments like this.”
My pulse quickened, a mix of excitement and caution swirling in my chest. “An evening, huh?” I said, keeping my tone light but my eyes locked on his. “What kind of evening are we talking about, Ranjeet?”
He smiled, a slow, warm curve that made my stomach flip. “Nothing fancy. Maybe dinner, a walk by the sea at Bandstand. Somewhere we can just… be together. Talk without looking over our shoulders. What do you say?”
I wanted to say yes. But the weight of Ammi’s warnings tugged at me. “It sounds wonderful,” I admitted, my voice softening. “But… it’s complicated, Ranjeet. I can’t just… ”
His expression didn’t falter, his eyes still warm, understanding. “I know, Jaan. I’m not asking you to run away with me-not yet,” he added with a playful glint. “Just a few hours. When you’re ready. You deserve a moment to feel free, Nabila. To feel like you again.”
I swallowed, my fingers tightening around my cup. “Soon,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “Give me a little time, okay?”
“Always,” he said, his hand brushing mine again, lingering just a moment longer. “I’ll wait as long as it takes.”
He leaned closer, his tone softening. “Seriously, though, Nabila. You look… different today. Stronger. Like you’re ready to take on the world.”
He sees it. He sees me. I swallowed, my smile softening. “I’m trying. One day at a time, right?”
“One day at a time,” he echoed, his gaze steady and sure. “And I’m with you for every one of them.”
For those few minutes, as we bantered and sipped terrible coffee, I felt almost normal again. The weight of the past didn’t vanish, but it felt lighter, like I could carry it without breaking.
The following week, life began to settle into a fragile routine. Asif’s calls and texts stopped after my message, his silence a victory I hadn’t dared hope for. Maybe he’s given up. Or maybe he’s plotting. The thought lingered, but I pushed it aside, focusing on Adnan and work. Ammi remained vigilant, her eyes sharp whenever the phone rang, but she didn’t bring up Ranjeet again.
Ranjeet and I fell into an easy rhythm at work, but the office was a minefield of politics and whispered alliances. The marketing team was buzzing with tension over who’d lead the next big campaign, with Priya from HR stirring the pot by hinting she’d overheard the boss favoring Ranjeet over Neha, who’d been gunning for the role. Whispers of favoritism and late-night meetings floated through the cubicles, and I could feel the weight of curious eyes whenever I passed by. They’re watching everyone, not just me. But it still feels like I’m under a microscope.
Ranjeet, though, was my safe harbor. Our conversations grew lighter, the tension between us easing like a slowly uncoiling spring. He slipped in casual flirtations, his eyes twinkling as he teased me about my choice of earrings or the way I organized my desk. “You’re too neat, Nabila,” he’d say with a grin, leaning over my desk during a quiet moment. “It’s unnatural?”
I’d roll my eyes, but my heart fluttered. “Someone has to keep things in order around here,” I shot back, nudging his arm playfully. I responded in kind, testing the waters with a coy smile or a teasing comment, our connection rebuilding in stolen moments-brushing hands in the corridor, sharing knowing glances during meetings.
But not everyone’s attention was welcome. Vikram from admin, with his slicked-back hair and overconfident swagger, came to my desk, his eyes lingering too long. As I was sorting through campaign drafts, he sauntered over, leaning against my cubicle with a grin that was all charm and no sincerity. “Nabila, you’re looking gorgeous today,” he said, his voice loud enough to draw a few glances. “ Fancy grabbing a coffee later? I know a great spot nearby.”
I kept my eyes on my papers, forcing a polite smile. “Thanks, Vikram, but I’m overloaded. Maybe another time.”
He didn’t take the hint, his grin widening. “Come on, you can’t work all the time. A break with me might do you good.” He winked, and I caught Priya smirking from across the room.
Before I could respond, Ranjeet appeared, his expression neutral but his eyes sharp. “Nabila, you ready to go over those ad copies? We need them by end of day.” His tone was professional, but the way he stood, close and protective, sent a clear message.
Vikram’s smile faltered. “Right, duty calls,” he said, backing off with a forced chuckle. “Catch you later, Nabila.”
Thank you, Ranjeet. I nodded, grateful for the save. “Let’s do it,” I said, grabbing my notes and following him to a quiet corner. Once we were alone, he dropped his voice, his teasing grin returning. “You okay? Vikram is chutiya no.1.”
I sighed, my shoulders relaxing. “yeah….He’s just annoying. Thanks for stepping in.”
“Anytime” he murmured, his fingers brushing mine briefly. “Can’t let anyone steal my favorite lunch partner.”
By the end of the week, the office felt less like a battlefield and more like a sanctuary. On Friday, after a long meeting, Ranjeet caught me alone in the break room, refilling my coffee. The door was closed, the hum of the office muffled. He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “You look beautiful today, wildfire.”
The old nickname sent a shiver down my spine.I met his gaze, my pulse quickening. “You’re trouble, you know that?”
“The best kind,” he murmured, stepping closer still. The air between us crackled, heavy with unspoken longing. Before I could think, his hands cupped my face and he kissed me. It was fierce, hungry, a collision of need and relief. I kissed him back, my hands gripping his shirt, pulling him closer. The world fell away, leaving only the heat of his lips, the press of his body against mine.
We stumbled back against the counter, the kiss deepening, our breaths mingling in a desperate rhythm. His hands slid to my waist, and I felt a fire ignite inside me, a reclaiming of my own desire.For a moment, we were lost in each other, the office fading into irrelevance.
A distant laugh from the corridor snapped us back to reality. We pulled apart, breathless, our eyes locked in a shared understanding. “We can’t… not here,” I whispered, my voice shaky but firm.
He nodded, his thumb brushing my lip. “Soon, Jaan. Somewhere safe.”
I straightened my clothes, my heart still racing. What am I doing? This is reckless. But as I looked at him, his eyes full of love and restraint, I knew I wasn’t wrong to want this. I deserve this. I deserve him.
As I walked back to my desk, the weight of the past week felt lighter. Life wasn’t fixed, not by a long shot. Asif’s shadow still loomed, and Ammi’s disapproval hung over me like a storm waiting to break. But for the first time in years, I felt like I was moving forward, not just surviving.
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