[Author's POV]
The golden hues of evening wrap around the towering glass building of Infinitum Tech Solutions Pvt. Ltd., its logo glowing faintly as employees pour out through the main gate. The city buzzes with the sounds of honking autos, distant chatter, and the hum of Bangalore's busy life winding down.
He stands near the side parking lot, sleeves rolled up, holding his phone but not really checking it.
His eyes are fixed. There she is. The same girl. The one from the mall.
She walks quickly, dodging people, her yellow Kurti brushing against her legs, her dupatta fluttering behind her in the breeze. She seems in a rush, her eyes darting ahead, scanning for a ride. His gaze lingers. What are the chances?
But then, with a dismissive shake of his head, he tells himself,
"She's probably just passing by. Maybe lives nearby. Coincidence."
She stops to speak to an auto rickshaw driver.
"Aarav! There you are." The voice snaps him back.
He turns to see Ritvik, a colleague from the AI Solutions & Deployment team and his best friend, waving a key in one hand.
And just like that—his name is spoken.
The same man Priya bumped into outside the mall.
"We've got that review call at 7 tomorrow, remember? Don't ghost me again."
Aarav nods, offering a quick half-smile. "Yeah. I'll be there."
But his eyes trail back to the road, where she's just climbed into an auto.
Varun follows his gaze. "Someone you know?"
Aarav's lips curl slightly something between amusement and curiosity.
"Not exactly," he murmurs. "But maybe I will."
He watches as the auto pulls away, disappearing into the crowd.
He still doesn't know her name. Still doesn't know she works here.
And she has no idea he's the one everyone calls Sir at this company.
[Priya's POV]
The sun is lower now, casting a soft orange glow over the buildings. The auto slows as we reach my lane — narrow, crowded, familiar after only a few days. I pay the driver, thank him softly, and make my way to the flat.
The door creaks open with that same tiny resistance it gave yesterday. I lock it behind me, drop my bag on the corner table, and lean back against the closed door.
A full breath escapes my lips. The tension in my shoulders eases.
I change into a soft cotton kurti and tie my hair into a loose bun. There's still a faint fragrance of new curtains and plastic wrappers from the shopping I'd done earlier. Everything is slowly falling into place, piece by piece, like a puzzle.
In the kitchen, I heat up the leftover rice and sabzi I made this morning. I don't even realize how hungry I am until the aroma hits me. I sit cross-legged on the floor and eat quietly, scrolling through a few missed messages from Aarvee bahiya. One is just a sticker.
The other says, "How was Day 1, city girl?" I smile, cheeks a little warm.
"Good" I replied and put my phone aside.
After dinner, I clean up a bit, wash my tiffin box, fold the clothes I left drying earlier, and tidy the corners of the room. There's something calming about setting things in place. By the time I finish, it's already past 9:00.
I pull the curtain over the single window and sit at the edge of the bed. My body feels tired, but my mind keeps replaying small moments from today — Tanya's jokes, Raghav's short praise, the first time I saw the company building. And then that strange moment outside... that feeling like someone had been watching me.
Maybe I imagined it. Maybe not.
I lie back and stare at the ceiling.
There's so much ahead. But for now, I made it through Day One.
I lie back, staring at the ceiling, the fan blades circling slowly like they're in no hurry either. A familiar ache blooms in my chest — the one I try to ignore all day.
Maa...
The name forms in my mind like a whisper.
I don't want to call through Aarvee bahiya this time. I want to hear her voice directly. Just her. Only her.
I grab my phone and scroll to the dial pad. My new SIM card stares back, unfamiliar and blank. I don't even have Maa's number saved.
Stupid, I mutter under my breath, annoyed with myself. But I remember it. At least I think I do.
I type the number in carefully, heart already thudding in my ears.
Calling...
One ring. Two.
No answer.
I wait a second and try again, my thumb trembling slightly.
And then—
"Hello?"
The voice slices through me like lightning.
Papa.
I freeze. My breath catches. I don't say a word, but I don't cut the call either.
"Hello?" he says again. Slower this time.
Then softer — like something in him already knows.
"...Priya? Is that you?"
My eyes sting. I squeeze the phone tighter but still don't speak.
The line is silent for a second too long before his voice returns, quiet... but laced with something heavy and sharp.
"If it's you... then listen to me carefully." I don't move.
"You've made your point. You left like a thief in the night. You thought you could run away and be free. But listen to me, Priya... I'm your father. You're still my daughter. And I will bring you back. No matter what."
I close my eyes. His voice is shaking now, with rage.
"Your Maa might have given up on you. Aarvee might support your madness. But not me. I won't let the city swallow you."
There's a pause. Then almost broken "I raised you. I fed you. I gave you everything. And this is what you've become?" The words dig deep. Too deep.
"Do you even care what it's doing to your Maa? You think she sleeps at night?"
I bite my lip hard, my throat burning.
"Come home, Priya," he says, not demanding now, but pleading.
"Come back. We'll find a good match. You'll have a safe life. No more shame, no more running. Just come back."
The line is quiet again. I say nothing. I don't cut the call. But I don't answer.
And after a few seconds, the line disconnects from his end.
I stare at the screen for a long time. I turn off my phone and lie back down, pressing the pillow over my face to hold back the tears.
[Author's POV]
Back in the village, the phone slips from Priya's father's hand and lands on the wooden cot with a soft thud.
He stares at the floor, jaw locked tight, fists clenched beside him. The silence in the room thickens. Priya's mother, standing quietly near the doorway, doesn't dare speak.
"She called," he mutters under his breath. "Didn't say a word, but I know it was her." His voice is more to himself than to anyone else. "I could feel it."
Priya's mother doesn't move, but her eyes well up. She knows he's right.
He turns slowly toward her. "You knew she'd call, didn't you?"
"Don't play innocent with me," Priya's father snaps, eyes narrowing. "You encouraged her. Behind my back."
"I helped my daughter live," she replies softly but firmly. The words hit harder than a slap.
He takes a step closer, voice rising. "Live? You call this living? All alone in a city like that? With no one to guide her? She's just a girl!"
"She's our girl," Priya's mother says, her voice trembling now. "She needed air. She couldn't breathe here."
He turns away, pacing restlessly. "She was raised with dignity, with values. I gave her everything. And now she runs away like his?"
"She didn't run," Priya's mother says, barely above a whisper. "She walked toward a future you wouldn't let her have."
A heavy silence follows.
Priya's father doesn't respond. He stares out of the window, the courtyard outside is quiet, the night casting long shadows over the dusty ground.
In his silence, pride and pain clash like thunder.
But deep inside, a single, dangerous thought settles into his bones:
I will bring her back. No matter what it takes.
[After 8 Days]
It's been eight days. Eight long, unfamiliar days. Each morning, Priya rises before the sun. The chaos of Bangalore slowly starts to feel rhythmic. At work, she listens more than she speaks, absorbing everything. Raghav is strict but fair, her team is supportive in their own quiet ways.
Evenings are lonely, but she cooks, cleans, and folds her clothes. She hasn't called home again. She's afraid. Yet every night, she reminds herself, I'm still here. I haven't run back.
Monday morning buzzed with unusual urgency in the Product Engineering department. As soon as Priya and her teammates settled into their desks, Raghav stepped out of his cabin, a tablet in hand and his tone brisk.
"I need your full focus this week," he announced. "We've been asked to present our recent front-end module progress to the AI Solutions & Deployment team. It's a joint review."
Sudeep exchanged a quick glance with Rohit, while Tanya raised her brows. Presenting to the AI team was no small deal it meant a direct audience with the core architects of the company's brain.
"You'll work together on one consolidated presentation," Raghav continued, eyes scanning the group. "Each of you will handle a specific part. The deadline is Friday morning. We present at 11 sharp."
Priya felt a quiet flutter in her stomach. This was her first real opportunity. She scribbled down notes, nodding along, pushing past the nervous tremble rising in her fingers.
All of them get to work, collaborating over the week, Tanya coordinating slides, Sudeep handling integration visuals, Rohit polishing transitions, and Priya refining user interface designs.
[Time skip to Friday]
Friday morning arrives with a buzz of nerves.
Priya walks into Infinitum Tech Solutions, her laptop bag slung over one shoulder and a knot of anxiety resting squarely in her chest. The air in the office feels different today. Everyone on her team knows why.
The presentation.
At the lounge area outside their bay, Tanya is already waiting, flipping through her notes. Rohit joins a moment later, grinning. "So, who's starting the presentation? Me? Or should I let Tanya go first and impress the AI gods?"
Tanya rolls her eyes. "If impress means confusing them with memes, sure. Be my guest."
Sudeep chuckles. "Let's just hope no one's phone rings."
Priya gives a soft smile but doesn't join in. Her focus is fixed on the content of her part. She practiced this a hundred times. But still, her palms feel clammy.
Tanya claps her hands together. "Okay, guys. Let's do this. We're going to crush it."
The four of them raise their fists.
"Hurray!" they chant in a half-whisper, laughing nervously.
Right then, Raghav appears. "Ready?"
They nod in unison.
"Let's go," he says simply.
As they walk toward the fourth floor, Priya feels like she's walking into an exam room. The hallway is silent, polished, almost too bright. Outside the conference room, they pause.
Tanya breathes out. "God, why do glass doors make everything more intimidating?"
Rohit leans toward Sudeep. "Last chance to fake a stomach ache, man."
Sudeep shakes his head. "I already used that excuse on Tuesday."
They laugh. Even Priya manages a small grin.
Then Raghav pushes open the door, and they step inside.
It's cooler here. A long oval glass table, a screen already prepped with their deck. The room is empty for now.
They each take their seats on one side, powering on their laptops, checking last-minute notes. Five minutes tick by.
And then the AI Solutions team starts to arrive.
Men and women walk in one after the other, taking seats across from them. Confident, polished, some holding coffee mugs, some with notepads. The tension in Priya's chest tightens.
And then... he walks in.
The last to enter.
Tall. Clean-cut. Wearing a crisp grey shirt with the sleeves rolled just below the elbow. A perfectly tailored black waistcoat hugging his frame, the buttons aligned with precision. Black fitted trousers completing the look—sharp, structured, intentional. A single black beaded bracelet wraps around his wrist, subtle but grounding and impossible to ignore.
But Priya knows that face. Her heart stops for a second. It's him. The man from the mall.
Her breath hitches. Time slows for a beat. His eyes scan the room and then land on her.
Their eyes lock. Her heart jumps.
Aarav's expression is unreadable, but he doesn't look away. Even as he walks across the room, still holding her gaze.
And then he breaks it, taking his seat in the center of the table.
Right beneath the engraved nameplate that reads: Aarav ,Senior Product Manager – AI Solutions & Deployment
The name pierces through every assumption she's made over the past week.
Aarav. He's him?
Her mind reels. Her fingers tremble ever so slightly over her keyboard.
She had walked right into his world unknowingly.
And now he's here, right in front of her, in a position far more powerful than she ever imagined.
He's not just someone I met. He's someone I have to work with. Maybe even answer to.
She straightens her back, taking a breath.
Aarav doesn't look at her again. But she can feel it. Something has shifted.
[Aarav's POV]
I entered the room last. My IPad still in hand, half my thoughts circling the AI pitch updates, half distracted by the noise of the corridor I just left behind. I nod to a couple of team leads, slip into autopilot as I walk in.
Then I see her.
Three seats from the left, in the interns' row. My feet keep moving, but everything inside me pauses.
It's her.
The one who collided into me outside Pacific Square, arms full, eyes wide, breathless. But those eyes... those big, startled eyes. They've been stuck in my head longer than I admitted.
I thought I'd imagined her.
But now here she is sitting in my company's conference room, surrounded by interns, looking like she's trying to disappear into her seat.
My eyes lock with hers.
And I know instantly she remembers too.
There's a second, just a second, when neither of us looks away. She's still wearing that unsure look, like she doesn't belong here. But it's mixed now with something else, shock, maybe embarrassment.
I drop my gaze first, pretending to scroll through my iPad.
I didn't let it show, but inside, something shifts. The city's chaos doesn't usually echo like this. People bump into each other all the time. I forget faces by the hour.
But not this one. Not hers.
I glance at the time. This room has heard a hundred presentations before, but today, I'm strangely impatient. The team from Raghav's side is lined up each face new, enthusiastic, predictable.
I clear my throat and nod at the first speaker. They begin. Something about interface improvements. I listen, I really do but my eyes keep drifting towards her.
She's at the end of the line, fingers fidgeting with the edge of her lanyard. Her eyes are on the presenter, but they don't see. She's rehearsing in her mind, I can tell. Every little gesture gives her away.
I glance back at the presenter who's wrapping up. "Next." I say, keeping it short.
Two more to go before her.
I shift in my chair, restless now. Her fingers are clasped too tight. She's biting the inside of her cheek. That nervous energy it radiates.
"Keep it brief," I tell the next one. I don't mean to be rude. But every second is dragging, and I want her name to be the next one called. I want to watch what she becomes under pressure. I want to see if that shyness breaks or blooms.
Finally, Raghav gestures to her. "Priya?"
Priya. I repeat her name in my mind.
She rises slowly. For a moment, I think she might turn and run.
She walks to the front nervously straightening the sleeves of her kurta, clutching the clicker like it's a lifeline. Her eyes meet mine. Just for a second. And I swear she freezes.
A flicker of recognition. That's when it hits her. The mall. The man in black. The one she bumped into.
Me.
She stumbles over her first line. I hear the tremble in her voice, faint but real. It slices through the air, too intimate to be ignored.
I lean back slightly in my chair, hiding the way my jaw clenches. Why does she look so fragile and strong at the same time?
She tries again. This time, clearer.
Her voice, though soft, holds weight. Not trained confidence, but raw courage. My team shifts, listening. They don't know what I know. That this isn't just another intern.
She moves to the next slide. Hands shaking slightly. I want to ease the tension from her shoulders. I want to say, You're doing just fine. Keep going.
I'm listening.
But all I do is nod. The tiniest encouragement, the most I can offer from this distance.
She breathes. Finds her rhythm.
And I find myself smiling.
.
.
.
.
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To be continued...........
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