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Amrit stepped into the sprawling campus of the Singhania Institute of Technology and Arts, her eyes wide with wonder as she took in the grandeur of the buildings surrounded by lush greenery. The architecture was modern yet inviting, with wide pathways adorned with benches and colourful flower beds. Students bustled around, some engaged in animated conversations while others hurried to their classes.

Finding her way to the designated classroom for PhD students, Amrit hesitated before entering. She noticed groups of students chatting excitedly, forming new connections effortlessly. As an introvert who had always found solace in books rather than socialising, she felt a pang of anxiety at the prospect of making new friends.

Amrit settled into the second seat, adjusting her bag on her lap. The classroom buzzed with the usual morning chatter, but her attention was quickly drawn to a group approaching her.

A group of five students, two boys and three girls, walked up to her, their demeanour exuding an air of ownership and entitlement.

“Ohh hello Miss....this is our seat. Tum hamare group ki ek seat le rahi ho,” one of the boys said, his tone dripping with condescension.

[You are taking a seat of our group.]

Amrit raised an eyebrow, unfazed by their arrogance. “Acha! Aap log ne yahan naam likh kar rakha hai kya apna?” she retorted, her voice steady.

[Is your name written here?]

One of the girls stepped forward, her face twisted in disdain. “Ohh didi, please. Ham kisi low class ladki ke muh nahi lagna chahte. So please, get up.”

[We don't want to talk with a low class girl.]

Amrit’s eyes flashed with anger. “Pehli baat, kiski class kaisi hai wo toh uske baat karne ke tareeke se hi pata chal raha hI. And second thing, aap log mujhe force nahi kar sakte yahan se hatane ke liye. Seat chahiye thi toh pehle aana chahiye tha.”

[First of all, you can tell someone's class by the way they speak. And second thing, you all can't force me to move from here. If you wanted a seat, you should have come earlier.]

The tension in the air was visible, drawing the attention of other students in the room. Just then, another girl, seemingly friendlier, approached Amrit.

“Hey, please don't argue with them,” she said softly, her eyes pleading. “Come, ham dusre seat par chalte hain. Ek seat ki baat hai, apna first day faltu log ke liye kharab mat karo.”

Amrit hesitated for a moment, her pride battling with her desire to avoid unnecessary conflict. Finally, she nodded and stood up, gathering her things. The girl led her to another bench across the room, away from the hostile group.

"Hii.. I am Vidya Kushwaha. Your name?" the girl said with a warm smile.

"Amrit.. Amrit Tripathi," she replied, returning the smile gratefully.

Vidya, with her easy demeanour, quickly put Amrit at ease. They exchanged pleasantries, and soon Vidya was sharing stories about her background and previous academic experiences. Amrit found herself opening up as well, feeling a glimmer of hope that she might find a friend in this new environment.

As they chatted, Vidya couldn't contain her excitement about one particular professor.

"Did you see Akshat Singhania when you entered? He's so handsome, isn't he? I've heard he's not just a brilliant professor but also a published author. I'm really looking forward to his classes," Vidya gushed, her eyes sparkling with admiration.

Amrit couldn't help but smile at Vidya's enthusiasm. "Yes, I've read all his books. It's amazing to think he's teaching here. I hope I get a chance to learn from him," she replied, feeling a surge of anticipation herself.

Their conversation flowed naturally, and before long, the initial awkwardness faded away.

As the bustling classroom settled into a hushed excitement, Akshat Singhania made his entrance. Clad in a sharp black suit that accentuated his tall, commanding presence, he exuded an aura of confidence and intellect that captivated the attention of most in the room. His dark hair was neatly styled, and a hint of stubble added to his rugged charm. Akshat's piercing charcoal eyes scanned the room with a calm authority, effortlessly drawing admiring glances from several students, particularly the girls who couldn't help but sneak glances his way.

Amrit's eyes widened in shock as she saw him enter. Memories of their unexpected encounter that morning rushed back to her, mixing with the surreal realisation that this esteemed professor was the same person she had rescued just hours ago.

“Good morning, everyone. I am Akshat Singhania, your English literature professor,” he announced with a confident yet approachable tone.

Amrit's heart skipped a beat. The name echoed in her mind, dredging up a memory she had hoped to forget. She whispered to herself, “Ye wahi hain na jinhe maine suicide karne se roka tha.”

The realisation hit her hard. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight of him. The same man she had encountered in such a vulnerable moment, now standing before her in a completely different role. She couldn't believe the coincidence.

“Yeh hain Akshat Singhania!!” she muttered under her breath, her voice barely a whisper. She felt her throat tighten and instinctively gulped, trying to steady her nerves.

Panic began to creep in, and Amrit knew she had to do something to avoid being noticed. Her mind raced for a solution, and in a desperate bid to hide herself, she deliberately knocked her pen off her desk. The pen clattered to the floor, and she took this as her cue. She slid off her chair and bent down to pick it up, using the action as a cover to duck below the desk.

From her crouched position, she could see the polished shoes of Professor Singhania moving around the room as he began his introduction. Amrit’s heart pounded in her chest, her mind replaying the events of that fateful night. She had never imagined she would see him again,

As Amrit sat back up, still trying to steady her racing heart, she couldn't help but question her own reaction. She muttered to herself, “Par mai dar kyun rahi hun yaar? I saved him from doing suicide.”The thought brought a surge of confidence.

Reassured by her own words, Amrit straightened in her seat. She stole another glance at Akshat, who was now writing something on the board. He seemed composed and professional, entirely different from the man she had met before.

As the class settled into their seats, Akshat cleared his throat and addressed the students with a firm yet approachable tone.

“So, the first thing I want to clear with you all is that I am not the type of professor who gets too friendly or anything,” he began, his eyes sweeping across the room. “I am here to teach you, and while I don’t want to be overly strict, there needs to be a balance. You all can be comfortable with me, but not too friendly.”

Amrit noticed the students exchanging glances, gauging their new professor’s demeanor.

“I don’t like talking during my lectures,” Akshat continued, his voice steady. “I will take a test every week to see how seriously you are taking my classes. If someone is absent, I need a solid reason—none of this ‘notes kutta kha gaye’ or ‘pet me dard tha’ nonsense. Understood?”

The students nodded, some murmuring their agreement.

“So first of all, give me your introduction. We will start from the last bench,” Akshat said, his gaze moving to the back of the room.

One by one, the students began introducing themselves. Amrit felt her anxiety rising as her turn approached.

“Arre yaar mai kaise bolungi…Hello sir, I am Amrit Tripathi and I am from Bareilly… Good morning sir bolna hoga par…. Good morning sir I am Amrit Tripathi and I am from Bareilly,” Amrit muttered to herself, practicing her introduction under her breath. Her friend Vidya, sitting next to her, noticed her distress.

“Amrit yaar, please ye introvert hona band karo, at least sir ke samne…. Be comfortable, wo kha nahi jayenge,” Vidya said gently, nudging her. Amrit nodded, trying to calm herself.

Akshat pointed towards Vidya. “You.”

Vidya stood up confidently. “Good morning sir, I am Vidya Kushwaha and I am from Delhi.”

As Vidya spoke, Amrit’s mind wandered back to the incident with Akshat. “Par inhone suicide kyun kiya? Ache khase famous professor hain. I think koi solid reason hai, varna aise thodi karte. Aur issi wajah se inhone books likhna bhi chhod diya, I think.”

Her thoughts were interrupted by a shake on her shoulders. “Amrit yaar, pagal, sir teen baar tujhe bula chuke hain. Kahan khoyi hai?” Vidya whispered urgently.

Amrit snapped out of her reverie and quickly stood up. “G-good morning sir, I am Bareilly Tripathi and I am from Amrit,” she blurted out in her nervousness, causing a few stifled giggles around the room.

Akshat raised an eyebrow, recognizing her. “Ye to wahi pagal ladki hai,” he thought to himself.

Amrit’s face turned crimson. “I am sorry sir, I mean I am Amrit Tripathi and I am from Bareilly,” she corrected herself.

“Introvert problem, right Miss Tripathi?” Akshat said shaking his head,

“N-no sir, I was just nervous,” Amrit stammered, her cheeks still flushed.

“Sit down,” Akshat said. Amrit quickly sat down, feeling a mix of embarrassment and relief.

As Amrit sat down, still flustered from her introduction, she noticed Akshat shaking his head slightly. “Stupid,” he thought, exasperated by the mix-up but masking his reaction to avoid discouraging her further.

******************************************

After the class, Amrit and her friend Vidya exited the room together.

“Tum sir se itna chup kyun rahi thi?” Vidya asked, her voice filled with curiosity.

[Why were you hiding from sir?]

Amrit glanced around, ensuring no one else was listening before she responded. “Arre, kya hua tha ki sir suicide karne wale the,” she replied, her tone serious.

[Sir was about to do suicide.]

Vidya’s eyes widened in shock. “Kya? Kab?”

Amrit took a deep breath, recalling the incident. “Haan, wo aaj subah hi maine dekha tha. Wo aise railing pe khade the,” she explained, her voice lowering as she remembered the gravity of the situation.

[I saw this morning, he was standing at railing.]

Vidya’s shock deepened. “Ohh then?”

“Wo to acha hua maine unhe kheech liya turant. Varna pata nahi kya ho jata,” Amrit continued, her eyes reflecting the memory. “Mujhe pata bhi nahi tha ki yahi hain Akshat Singhania….I think inhe koi depression hai aur isliye inhone books likhna bhi chhor diya.”

["It's a good thing I pulled them immediately. Otherwise, who knows what would have happened, I didn't even know that this is Akshat Singhania... I think he has some sort of depression, and that's why he stopped writing books."]

Vidya nodded slowly, absorbing the information. “Haan, you are right…. bechare,” she said softly, her sympathy evident.

Vidya placed a comforting hand on Amrit’s shoulder. “Tumne jo kiya wo bahot bahaduri ka kaam tha.

“Par haan, ye baat abhi kisi ko mat batana. It is his personal matter na.” Amrit said and Vidya nodded.

“I just hope ki wo theek ho jayein,” she said, her voice filled with concern.

Akshat walked through the corridor, his footsteps echoing with frustration as he overheard snippets of conversation about himself. The words hit him like a punch to the gut. He stopped abruptly in front of the classroom where the voices were coming from, unable to believe what he was hearing.

“Yaar Akshat sir suicide karna kyun chahte the par.” The first student’s voice carried confusion and concern.

[But why Akshat sir wants to do suicide?]

"I don't know, buddy, this news has spread throughout the whole college." A girl’s voice replied, filled with uncertainty.

“Who knows, maybe the girl who saved Sir herself spread the news.” Another girl’s words added a layer of mystery.

“Sir samne se to itne bade looser nahi lagte hain .” The boy’s casual remark stung Akshat deeply.

“Akshat sir, are these rumours true?” One of his fellow professor asked and he ignored him walking away.

Anger and hurt surged within him as he struggled to comprehend how such rumours had spread. He clenched his fists, his jaw tight with resolve. At that moment, he spotted Amrit, chatting animatedly with her friend just a few steps away. Without a second thought, Akshat stormed over to her, his expression a mix of anger and hurt and darkened with anger. Amrit felt a knot in her stomach, unsure of what had triggered Akshat's rage.

"Good afternoon, sir," Amrit greeted him tentatively, trying to maintain a calm demeanour despite the tension.

Akshat turned sharply towards them, his eyes narrowing with fury. "What do you think of yourself, Miss Amrit Tripathi?" he shouted, his voice echoing through the corridor. Vidya instinctively took a step back, intimidated by his sudden outburst.

Confused and scared, other students started gathering around, sensing something serious was unfolding.

Amrit's heart raced as she struggled to understand what was happening. "W..what happened, sir?" she managed to ask, her voice trembling with fear.

“Tumne poore college me ye misinformation failayi hai ki mai suicide karne wala tha?” Akshat's voice was sharp with accusation, each word cutting through the tense silence.

Amrit's eyes widened in shock. "No sir, wo…" she began to explain, but Akshat interrupted her, his anger barely contained.

“Oh, so you wanted to become a hero in the entire college, right? Listen carefully, I was not going to commit suicide, it was just a misunderstanding... but I'm sure you must have gotten the idea that I wasn't going to commit suicide, but you wanted to portray yourself as noble in front of the entire college, so you lied.” Akshat's voice rose with frustration and disappointment.

Amrit's eyes filled with tears, feeling the weight of Akshat's accusations and the public humiliation. "No sir," she whispered, her voice barely audible amidst the growing crowd of onlookers.

“Shut up! I didn't ask for your excuse. Attention seeker!!” Akshat snapped, turning abruptly and striding away angrily.

Amrit stood there, stunned and hurt, unable to move. The surrounding students whispered among themselves, casting sympathetic glances at her.

Unable to bear the embarrassment any longer, Amrit fled from the scene, tears streaming down her face. She found solace on the quiet stairs nearby, where she sat down, sobbing uncontrollably.

Vidya approached Amrit, her voice filled with concern. "Amrit, please don't cry yaar... Sir has misunderstood you. You only told me about it; I think someone else must have spread this to him who argued with you in the morning."

"But I only told you about it, so how is it my fault? I was just sharing with you casually; Mera mahaan ban ne ka intention nahi tha," Amrit sobbed, feeling overwhelmed by the situation.

"Hmm, I know you're so sweet. Such things could never cross your mind," Vidya reassured her, pulling her into a comforting hug.

"Still, I feel I should apologise to him, tumhe bhi nahi batana chahiye tha mujhe . Somehow, because of me, his image has been tarnished in the college," Amrit said, wiping away her tears. Vidya nodded in understanding.

******************************************

Meanwhile, Akshat was sitting inside his cabin, massaging his head in an attempt to calm himself down. His mind raced with frustration as he muttered to himself, “What does that girl think of herself? Stupid! Urggghh!!”

Just then, the door opened and in walked Krishiv, Akshat’s best friend and the person he often found most annoying in moments like these.

“Akshat!! Ye mai kya sun raha hun?” Krishiv asked, his tone a mix of concern and curiosity.

“Mujhe kya pata tu kya sun raha hai!” Akshat snapped back, already knowing what Krishiv was referring to but unwilling to acknowledge it.

“You were going to commit suicide?? Bhai, I never knew you would consider such an option. I know you’ve suffered a lot and I can’t fully understand your pain, but how could you take such a step? Did you not think about all of us? What about Vishakha aunty and Rakshit uncle? Even though they’re your uncle and aunt, they took care of you like their own son. And your brother…” Krishiv’s voice trailed off as Akshat cut him off.

“Shut up, Krishiv!! I was not going to commit suicide. That stupid girl misunderstood the situation,” Akshat explained, frustration evident in his voice. He then recounted the incident, causing Krishiv to burst out laughing.

“Why are you laughing now? What kind of image do I have because of that foolish girl! And if she misunderstood the situation, what was the need to spread this information? Did she want to appear as some sort of savior?” Akshat muttered angrily.

“Bhai, but still, she was trying to do the right thing by saving you. And maybe usne aise hi kisi se kaha ho aur baat fail gayi. You’re overthinking it!” Krishiv said, attempting to pacify him.

“Whatever! I don’t have time to think about her. Stupid kid! She ruined my image… did you know everyone was giving me sympathetic looks?” Akshat said, his irritation growing as Krishiv giggled.

“If you laugh once more, I’ll throw you out of this window,” Akshat threatened, pointing to the window behind him.

“Sorry, but calm down na,” Krishiv said, trying to suppress his laughter.

At that moment, a man entered the cabin with sandwiches and tea for Akshat. Krishiv immediately grabbed a sandwich and the tea, starting to eat without a second thought.

“Thank you,” Krishiv said, munching happily.

“Oye, put that down!” Akshat shouted, attempting to snatch the sandwich from Krishiv’s hand. But Krishiv quickly stuffed the entire sandwich into his mouth, his cheeks bulging as he struggled to chew.

Before Akshat could say anything further, a knock on the door interrupted their conversation.

“Come in,” Akshat said, his voice carrying a hint of impatience. The door opened slowly, and Amrit stepped inside, taking cautious steps. She was nervously fidgeting with the straps of her bag, her eyes darting around the room.

“What are you doing here?” Akshat asked sternly, his tone causing Amrit to flinch slightly.

“Sir… I… I mean… I am sorry, sir, but maine ye sab baatein nahi failayi. Actually… when I saw you in class, I was surprised and mera instant reaction aisa nikal gaya tha jiske wajah se maine bas apni friend ko bataya, but I think someone heard our conversation and baat fail gayi,” she finally explained, her voice trembling.

“Ok, get lost,” Akshat said coldly, dismissing her with a wave of his hand.

“No, sir,” she responded quickly, making him raise his eyebrows in surprise.

“I mean, you have to forgive me first. Mai sach me bahot sharminda hun,” she pleaded, her eyes earnest and full of remorse.

“I said out , Miss Amrit Tripathi.” Akshat said, his tone softening slightly. He gestured towards the door, indicating she should leave.

“Thank you, sir,” Amrit said, giving him a small, sympathetic smile before turning to leave. As she walked out, she muttered under her breath, “Bechare!”

Akshat shook his head, watching her exit. He sighed deeply, rubbing his temples in an attempt to alleviate his frustration. Krishiv, having finished his sandwich, chuckled at the entire exchange.

“Thoda calmly baat kar leta. Bechari , she came to apologise na.” Krishiv said.

The man who had brought the sandwiches and tea returned, refilling Akshat’s cup and setting down a fresh plate of sandwiches. Akshat nodded in thanks, taking a sip of the warm tea and feeling some of his tension dissipate.

Krishiv, ever the opportunist, eyed the new plate of sandwiches. “You sure you don’t want to share?” he asked, grinning.

“Touch them and you’re dead,” Akshat warned, though the corners of his mouth twitched in a reluctant smile.

******************************************

Vedant stepped out of his room, shrugging on his crisp white coat, ready for another busy day at the hospital. As he made his way towards the kitchen, he paused, taken aback by the sight in front of him. There, in the middle of the living room, was his mother, Preeti, lost in the music, dancing with the grace of a bygone era. She twirled and swayed to the timeless tune:

“Unkii tamanna dil mein rahegi,

shammaa is mehfil me rahegi,

Ishq mein jeena ishq mein marna

Aur hame abkarna kyaa

Jab pyaar kiya to darna kya

pyaar kiya to darna kyaa

Jab pyaar kiya to Darna kya”

Preeti’s eyes were closed, her face glowing with a serene smile as she moved effortlessly, her long hair flowing with her every turn. In a moment of sheer joy, she spun around, only to collide with Vedant, who stood there, an amused and loving expression on his face.

“Kya hai?? Jaa na. Meri performance kharab kar di!” she exclaimed, playfully swatting at him.

["Why did you spoiled my performance?"]

“Sorry, meri Madhubala!” Vedant teased, his eyes twinkling.

“Oye! Only your papa can call me that,” Preeti retorted, flipping her hair dramatically. Vedant chuckled, shaking his head at his mother’s antics.

“Ok, continue your performance. I’m getting late,” he said, glancing at his watch.

“Arre, but have breakfast,” Preeti insisted, her tone shifting from playful to motherly concern.

“Maa, it's already too late,” Vedant replied, the urgency of his schedule evident in his voice.

“Haan toh, it's your fault na! Maine itni mehnat se banaya hai ye sab. Tere bhoot ko khilaun? Chup chap baith ke kha,” she scolded, her hands on her hips, a mock stern look on her face.

Vedant sighed, knowing there was no winning against his mother’s love and determination. He smiled and agreed, sitting down at the table laden with a delicious spread. As he began to eat, he watched Preeti return to her dance, her spirit and joy infectious. For a moment, the hustle and bustle of life outside seemed far away, and all that mattered was this simple, beautiful morning with his mother.

After finishing his breakfast, Vedant stepped out of the house, scrolling through his phone. He was about to descend the stairs when his leg bumped into someone sitting on the steps. He stopped abruptly and rolled his eyes in frustration.

“What the hell are you doing here, Miss Nandini Ahuja?” he asked, his annoyance clear as he addressed the young woman seated on the stairs.

Nandini looked up at him, unfazed by his tone. “Arre, hamesha chillate kyun rehte ho aap? Gale me loudspeaker lagaya hua hai kya? I am waiting for my boyfriend,” she said casually, making Vedant’s eyes widen in shock.

["Why are you always shouting? Do you have a loudspeaker in your throat or what?"]

“B...boyfriend? Aapne bataya nahi ki you have a boyfriend,” he stammered, taken aback by her revelation.

["You never told me that you have a boyfriend."]

“Aapko kyun bataun? Aap kya hain? Chacha Chaudhary?” she retorted, her tone mocking. Vedant sighed, trying to control his rising anger and the strange uneasiness he felt inside.

["Why should I tell you? Who are you? Chacha Chaudhary?"]

“Go to hell with that boyfriend of yours. And this place is not your living room that you are sitting here like this. Log yahan se aate jaate hain,” he said, gesturing to the stairwell that served as a common passage.

Just then, a 10-year-old boy came up the stairs, holding a notebook, a pen, and a math book.

“My boyfriend is here,” Nandini announced with a mischievous smile, and Vedant felt an unexpected wave of relief wash over him. He sighed, rolling his eyes.

“What happened, Girlfriend?” Kartik, the child, asked, looking at Nandini with concern.

“Kuch nahi cutiee, bas kuch log khud ko building ka chacha samajhne lage hain,” she said, taunting Vedant.

“Why do you always trouble my girlfriend?” Kartik asked Vedant, his small face serious.

“Ignore him… aao, mai tumhara maths homework karvati hun,” Nandini said, patting the space next to her.

“A blind leading a blind,” Vedant taunted with a sarcastic chuckle, knowing all too well how poor Nandini was at math. He leaned against the staircase, a mocking smile playing on his lips as he watched the scene unfold.

Nandini ignored him and looked at the math problems in the book. These were word problems, and she scratched her head, clearly puzzled. She glanced up at Vedant, who was still smirking at her struggle.

He stood by the staircase, leaning against the railing, watching Nandini and Kartik with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. Nandini noticed his lingering presence and couldn’t help but confront him.

“Why are you standing here? Jaiye yahan se!” she said, her tone a mix of irritation and exasperation.

“Mera pair, meri marzi,” he retorted, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. She sighed, clearly frustrated but chose to ignore him.

Confidently, she began explaining the maths problem to Kartik, but Vedant could immediately tell that her solution was completely wrong. He rolled his eyes, incredulous at her blunders.

“What are you teaching this little kid? Apne boyfriend ko pitwana chahti hain kya aap? Ek bhi sahi solution nahi bataya,” he said, exasperated. Nandini looked up at him and smiled sheepishly, realizing she had been caught.

Vedant sighed deeply and decided to take matters into his own hands. He sat down beside her, gently taking the notebook from her hands. “We should understand the problem first,” he said, his tone more instructional now. He started explaining the solutions one by one, making sure Kartik understood each step.

“Done,” Vedant said finally, after they had worked through all the problems.

“Thank you, bhaiya,” Kartik said, his face lighting up with gratitude. Vedant smiled warmly at the boy.

“Here, take your notebook,” Vedant said, leaning forward to hand the notebook to Kartik, who was sitting on the other side of Nandini. As he leaned closer, Nandini found herself becoming acutely aware of his proximity. Her heartbeat quickened, and she could feel his breath mingling with hers. Vedant’s eyes also drifted towards Nandini, and for a moment, they were both caught in the sudden intimacy of their closeness. Their eyes locked, and both felt a rush of unspoken emotions.

Kartik, oblivious to the tension between them, took his belongings and left with a cheerful wave. Just then, Vedant’s phone rang, jolting them both back to reality. He quickly moved back, and Nandini took a deep breath, looking down at her lap to steady herself. Vedant, equally flustered, grabbed his phone and his eyes widened as he saw the time.

“Shit! I am late. Thanks to you,” he said hurriedly, standing up and rushing down the stairs, leaving Nandini with her mouth open in surprise.

“Huh! Khud hi Einstein ke bhateeje ban rahe the aur blaming me!! Chasmish kahin kaa!” she muttered under her breath, her annoyance clear. She watched him disappear down the stairs before she stood up, brushing off her clothes and heading back inside.

******************************************

Meanwhile, at the Singhania Mansion, Anika was on the phone with her friend Aditi, pacing the room as she spoke.

“Aditi, I am telling you, ye bahu ban na na mere lawyer ban se bhi jyada tough task hai. Mummy ne itne sare instructions diye hain, and I am just trying to follow them. You know, aaj Akshat bhaiya ke best friend aaye the, and he was so sweet. I know how much I controlled myself to not start blabbering in front of him. Mummy ne kaha tha ki dulhan jaise behave karna at least do weeks tak,” Anika said, her voice a mix of exasperation and amusement.

“What about Vihaan jiju? Is he treating you nicely?” Aditi asked, her tone curious and supportive.

Anika looked down, a shy smile spreading across her face. “Haan, I mean, we haven't talked much yet. But jitna bhi kiye, usme he was respectful. But still, there is so much awkwardness between us. Shadi ke pehle itna hectic schedule tha na mera and that case was so messy, so unse baat karne ka aur number mangne ka time bhi nahi mila. Now I am regretting. Pehle baat karte toh at least awkwardness na hoti,” she said, her voice trailing off as she noticed Vihaan standing at the door, checking some files.

["Yeah, I mean, we haven't talked much yet. But from what little we have, he was respectful. Still, there's so much awkwardness between us. My schedule was so hectic before the wedding, and that case was so messy, I didn't even have time to talk to him or ask for his number. Now I regret it. If we had talked before, at least there wouldn't be this awkwardness."]

He knocked on the door gently. “Can I come in?” he asked, his voice soft but clear.

“Aditi, I will talk to you later,” Anika said, quickly disconnecting the call. She opened the door wider, allowing Vihaan to enter. He walked in and sat on the couch, his attention still on his files.

Anika stood there, fidgeting with the pallu of her saree, unsure of what to do next. She remembered how her mother would always bring her father coffee when he returned from work.

“Umm… I should bring your coffee,” she said, trying to make herself useful.

“Wo… I don’t drink coffee. Mai chai peeta hun,” Vihaan replied, looking up briefly from his files.

“Ohh… toh mai chai lati hun,” she said, turning to leave but felt a gentle tug on her wrist. She turned back, surprised to see Vihaan holding her wrist.

“Maine already Keshav uncle ko keh diya hai… Aap mere sath baithiye na,” he said, his voice softening as he looked at her. Anika flushed at the unexpected contact, and Vihaan quickly realized the intimacy of the moment.

["I've already told Uncle Keshav... Will you sit with me"]

“I… I mean aap baithiye,” he said, releasing her wrist with a flushed face. Anika nodded and sat beside him, her heart pounding. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, noticing how engrossed he was in his files.

Ten minutes later, Keshav uncle arrived with the tea. Vihaan was still absorbed in his work, barely noticing the tray being set down on the table.

“Huh! Why did he ask me to sit with him when he has work! What does he think, mere paas koi kaam nahi hai! Huh! I am also a very busy person,” Anika muttered under her breath. She reached for a file on the table beside her, the one she had been reading before Vihaan entered, and opened it with a huff.

“Mrs. Singhania, I must say you are very talented,” Vihaan said suddenly, his eyes still on his own file.

“Huh?” she asked, looking up in confusion.

“I mean, you can read a file upside down. That’s a very underrated talent,” he said, a playful smirk on his face.

Her eyes widened as she looked down at her file, realising he was right. She cursed herself mentally, feeling the embarrassment heat her cheeks.

“Wo… I was not reading. Isme iss side kuch laga hua tha toh I was just cleaning it,” she said hastily, pretending to wipe the file clean. Vihaan chuckled softly, nodding in amusement.

Anika held the file properly this time, burying her face in it to hide her embarrassment. She wished the ground would open up and swallow her whole. Just then, her phone rang, and she saw it was her mother calling. Silently thanking her mother for the timely interruption, she quickly stood up, rushing out of the room. As she hurried away, Vihaan watched her with a smile, shaking his head.

*****************************************

Meanwhile, Akshat was driving back home when suddenly, the skies opened up and rain began to pour heavily. Akshat's grip on the steering wheel tightened as the sound of the rain grew louder, each drop like a hammer on his already frayed nerves.

He pulled over to the side of the road, his breath coming in shallow gasps. Akshat hated the rain, the thundering voice, and the flashes of lightning. Each element was a fresh wound, ripping open scars from the most horrible night of his life. His hands and legs trembled, and his body stiffened as panic set in.

Desperate to escape the memories and the sounds that brought them back, he closed his ears with his palms and shut his eyes tight. But it was of no use.

With trembling hands, Akshat reached for his earphones, his phone slipping from his grasp because his hands were shaking so badly. He fumbled, his breath hitching in his throat, until he finally managed to plug in the earphones. He switched on a random song, cranking up the volume as high as it would go. He didn't care what played, he just needed to drown out the sound of the rain, the thunder, and the lightning.

Akshat pulled his legs up onto the seat, curling into himself. He rested his head on his knees, holding them tightly, his eyes squeezed shut. The music blasted in his ears, a discordant mix of melodies and beats that, while not soothing, was at least different from the storm outside.

His body still trembled, his breath still came in gasps, but slowly, gradually, the grip of panic began to loosen.He sat like that for what felt like hours, though it was only minutes, clinging to the music as his lifeline.

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Spoiler of next chapter -

"What the hell are you doing in my washroom, Miss Amrit Tripathi?" Akshat roared, his voice echoing off the tiled walls of the bathroom.

Amrit, standing by the sink with a guilty look on her face, passed him a nervous smile. "G... Good morning, sir," she stammered, trying to defuse the tension.

"Answer the question, damn it!" Akshat shouted, his patience wearing thin.

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How was the second chapter guyss??

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Nandini and Vedant??

Anika and Vihaan??

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