24-05-2026, 09:09 AM
(This post was last modified: 24-05-2026, 09:10 AM by Hornytamilan23. Edited 2 times in total. Edited 2 times in total.)
Chapter 4 — Someone New Notices Her
Monday mornings at Shruthi’s office always smelled faintly of coffee, printer ink, and controlled panic.
The branding division occupied the entire sixth floor of a glass building in Teynampet — open workstations, muted interiors, soft yellow lighting, expensive chaos disguised as professionalism.
People here dressed well even when stressed.
Especially when stressed.
Shruthi walked in at 9:20 AM wearing a charcoal-grey formal saree with a sleeveless blouse and minimal jewelry. Her laptop bag rested against one shoulder while she balanced coffee and phone effortlessly in the same hand.
Three people looked up immediately.
Not consciously.
Automatically.
That still happened wherever she went.
At thirty-two, Shruthi carried herself with the dangerous confidence of a woman who had long stopped seeking validation… which somehow made her more attractive.
She acknowledged a few greetings casually and walked toward her cabin.
“Morning, ma’am,” someone called.
“Morning.”
“Client call at eleven.”
“I know.”
“Presentation updated.”
“I know that too.”
“You’re scary before coffee.”
That finally made her smile faintly.
---
Inside her cabin, she dropped into the chair and opened her laptop.
Thirty unread mails.
Two campaign approvals pending.
One influencer threatening passive-aggressive drama over contract changes.
Normal Monday.
She had barely started working when HR pinged her.
New trainee joining your team today.
Shruthi closed her eyes briefly.
“Perfect,” she muttered.
---
At around ten-thirty, someone knocked lightly on the cabin door.
“Come in.”
A tall young man stepped inside holding a file awkwardly.
For a second, Shruthi assumed he had entered the wrong cabin.
Then he spoke.
“Hi… ma’am. HR asked me to report here.”
She looked up properly now.
Early twenties. Clean-shaven. White shirt slightly too formal for the office culture. Nervous posture. Good-looking in an unpolished way.
Not boyish.
Young.
There was a difference.
“You’re the trainee?”
“Yes… Karthik.”
He handed over the documents.
Shruthi scanned them casually.
Then paused.
“PSG?”
Karthik blinked.
“Yes.”
She looked up again.
“Coimbatore PSG?”
“Yeah.”
Shruthi leaned back slightly.
“So you survived that place too.”
That immediately relaxed him.
“You studied there?”
“MBA.”
His eyes widened slightly.
“My sister studied MBA there also.”
“What’s her name?”
“Divya Karthikeyan.”
Shruthi stared for two seconds.
“No way.”
“You know her?”
“Know ah? She copied assignments from me for two years.”
Karthik laughed immediately.
“That definitely sounds like my sister.”
And just like that, formality cracked slightly between them.
---
Throughout the morning, Shruthi explained campaign structures, branding schedules, client handling, and internal approvals while Karthik followed her around carrying notes like his life depended on it.
He listened carefully.
Asked smart questions.
And occasionally forgot to stop staring at her.
Shruthi noticed.
Of course she noticed.
Women like her always noticed.
The difference was whether they acknowledged it internally.
And she did.
Not emotionally.
Just observationally.
Karthik had the unmistakable look of a young man trying very hard to appear professional around someone he found distracting.
It showed in:
delayed eye contact,
sudden over-explanations,
nervous posture corrections,
laughing slightly too quickly at her jokes.
Shruthi found it mildly amusing.
Nothing more.
At least initially.
---
By lunchtime, the team had already accepted him.
Mostly because Shruthi herself seemed comfortable around him unusually fast.
“So unfair,” Priya from design complained dramatically. “New trainees usually suffer for one week minimum.”
Shruthi didn’t look up from her food.
“He has intelligent face.”
Karthik almost choked on water.
Everyone laughed.
Including Shruthi.
And for the first time in days, she realized she was genuinely enjoying conversation without emotional heaviness attached to it.
No marital tension.
No family pressure.
No unfinished discussions.
Just lightness.
---
Later in the afternoon, Karthik stood beside her during a presentation review.
The conference room lights dimmed slightly as slides changed across the screen.
“You’re overthinking the color palette,” Shruthi told him quietly.
“I thought more detailing is better.”
“Confidence is better.”
He nodded immediately.
Then after a pause:
“You speak like my sister sometimes.”
“That’s not a compliment.”
“No, I mean…”
He hesitated.
Shruthi turned toward him slightly.
“What?”
“You make people feel like they should do better.”
The sincerity caught her off guard unexpectedly.
Not flirtation.
Not smoothness.
Just honest admiration.
And somehow that felt more dangerous.
---
By evening, rain clouds gathered above the city.
The office slowly emptied floor by floor.
Karthik stood near her cabin door awkwardly before leaving.
“Bye, ma’am.”
“Stop calling me ma’am.”
He looked relieved instantly.
“Okay… Shruthi.”
The way he said her name carried visible hesitation.
She noticed that too.
“See you tomorrow,” she replied casually.
But after he left, she remained staring at her laptop screen for a few seconds longer than necessary.
---
Traffic was terrible by the time she reached home.
Shruthi unlocked the apartment expecting noise.
Instead—
silence.
Complete silence.
No television.
No vessels.
No Hasini cartoons.
Only darkness broken by city lights entering through curtains.
She stepped inside slowly.
Then remembered.
Lokesh had gone to drop his parents at Chennai Central for their train back to Coimbatore. From there he was taking Hasini to his cousin’s house nearby because she wanted to spend the night there.
Which meant—
For the first time in weeks—
the apartment was empty.
Completely empty.
---
Shruthi placed her handbag down slowly and stood still in the middle of the hall.
The silence felt unfamiliar.
Not lonely.
Open.
She loosened her hair absentmindedly and walked toward the balcony.
Outside, rain began touching the city lightly.
Inside, her phone vibrated.
Unknown message.
She opened it casually.
Karthik:
Reached home. Also… thanks for making first day less terrifying :)
Shruthi stared at the message for a second.
Then smiled before she could stop herself.
And somewhere deep inside, something very small… quietly shifted.
Monday mornings at Shruthi’s office always smelled faintly of coffee, printer ink, and controlled panic.
The branding division occupied the entire sixth floor of a glass building in Teynampet — open workstations, muted interiors, soft yellow lighting, expensive chaos disguised as professionalism.
People here dressed well even when stressed.
Especially when stressed.
Shruthi walked in at 9:20 AM wearing a charcoal-grey formal saree with a sleeveless blouse and minimal jewelry. Her laptop bag rested against one shoulder while she balanced coffee and phone effortlessly in the same hand.
Three people looked up immediately.
Not consciously.
Automatically.
That still happened wherever she went.
At thirty-two, Shruthi carried herself with the dangerous confidence of a woman who had long stopped seeking validation… which somehow made her more attractive.
She acknowledged a few greetings casually and walked toward her cabin.
“Morning, ma’am,” someone called.
“Morning.”
“Client call at eleven.”
“I know.”
“Presentation updated.”
“I know that too.”
“You’re scary before coffee.”
That finally made her smile faintly.
---
Inside her cabin, she dropped into the chair and opened her laptop.
Thirty unread mails.
Two campaign approvals pending.
One influencer threatening passive-aggressive drama over contract changes.
Normal Monday.
She had barely started working when HR pinged her.
New trainee joining your team today.
Shruthi closed her eyes briefly.
“Perfect,” she muttered.
---
At around ten-thirty, someone knocked lightly on the cabin door.
“Come in.”
A tall young man stepped inside holding a file awkwardly.
For a second, Shruthi assumed he had entered the wrong cabin.
Then he spoke.
“Hi… ma’am. HR asked me to report here.”
She looked up properly now.
Early twenties. Clean-shaven. White shirt slightly too formal for the office culture. Nervous posture. Good-looking in an unpolished way.
Not boyish.
Young.
There was a difference.
“You’re the trainee?”
“Yes… Karthik.”
He handed over the documents.
Shruthi scanned them casually.
Then paused.
“PSG?”
Karthik blinked.
“Yes.”
She looked up again.
“Coimbatore PSG?”
“Yeah.”
Shruthi leaned back slightly.
“So you survived that place too.”
That immediately relaxed him.
“You studied there?”
“MBA.”
His eyes widened slightly.
“My sister studied MBA there also.”
“What’s her name?”
“Divya Karthikeyan.”
Shruthi stared for two seconds.
“No way.”
“You know her?”
“Know ah? She copied assignments from me for two years.”
Karthik laughed immediately.
“That definitely sounds like my sister.”
And just like that, formality cracked slightly between them.
---
Throughout the morning, Shruthi explained campaign structures, branding schedules, client handling, and internal approvals while Karthik followed her around carrying notes like his life depended on it.
He listened carefully.
Asked smart questions.
And occasionally forgot to stop staring at her.
Shruthi noticed.
Of course she noticed.
Women like her always noticed.
The difference was whether they acknowledged it internally.
And she did.
Not emotionally.
Just observationally.
Karthik had the unmistakable look of a young man trying very hard to appear professional around someone he found distracting.
It showed in:
delayed eye contact,
sudden over-explanations,
nervous posture corrections,
laughing slightly too quickly at her jokes.
Shruthi found it mildly amusing.
Nothing more.
At least initially.
---
By lunchtime, the team had already accepted him.
Mostly because Shruthi herself seemed comfortable around him unusually fast.
“So unfair,” Priya from design complained dramatically. “New trainees usually suffer for one week minimum.”
Shruthi didn’t look up from her food.
“He has intelligent face.”
Karthik almost choked on water.
Everyone laughed.
Including Shruthi.
And for the first time in days, she realized she was genuinely enjoying conversation without emotional heaviness attached to it.
No marital tension.
No family pressure.
No unfinished discussions.
Just lightness.
---
Later in the afternoon, Karthik stood beside her during a presentation review.
The conference room lights dimmed slightly as slides changed across the screen.
“You’re overthinking the color palette,” Shruthi told him quietly.
“I thought more detailing is better.”
“Confidence is better.”
He nodded immediately.
Then after a pause:
“You speak like my sister sometimes.”
“That’s not a compliment.”
“No, I mean…”
He hesitated.
Shruthi turned toward him slightly.
“What?”
“You make people feel like they should do better.”
The sincerity caught her off guard unexpectedly.
Not flirtation.
Not smoothness.
Just honest admiration.
And somehow that felt more dangerous.
---
By evening, rain clouds gathered above the city.
The office slowly emptied floor by floor.
Karthik stood near her cabin door awkwardly before leaving.
“Bye, ma’am.”
“Stop calling me ma’am.”
He looked relieved instantly.
“Okay… Shruthi.”
The way he said her name carried visible hesitation.
She noticed that too.
“See you tomorrow,” she replied casually.
But after he left, she remained staring at her laptop screen for a few seconds longer than necessary.
---
Traffic was terrible by the time she reached home.
Shruthi unlocked the apartment expecting noise.
Instead—
silence.
Complete silence.
No television.
No vessels.
No Hasini cartoons.
Only darkness broken by city lights entering through curtains.
She stepped inside slowly.
Then remembered.
Lokesh had gone to drop his parents at Chennai Central for their train back to Coimbatore. From there he was taking Hasini to his cousin’s house nearby because she wanted to spend the night there.
Which meant—
For the first time in weeks—
the apartment was empty.
Completely empty.
---
Shruthi placed her handbag down slowly and stood still in the middle of the hall.
The silence felt unfamiliar.
Not lonely.
Open.
She loosened her hair absentmindedly and walked toward the balcony.
Outside, rain began touching the city lightly.
Inside, her phone vibrated.
Unknown message.
She opened it casually.
Karthik:
Reached home. Also… thanks for making first day less terrifying :)
Shruthi stared at the message for a second.
Then smiled before she could stop herself.
And somewhere deep inside, something very small… quietly shifted.
-Pickup, drop, escape.
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