17
It had been a week since the work began at the Abu Dhabi office.
The days in the Deshmukh household had passed in a kind of silent coordination - like two professionals sharing a flat, not newlyweds sharing a life.
Dhruv had been buried in meetings, pacing through the house with his AirPods in, bouncing between calls from Dubai, Singapore, and back.
Half the time, he took calls on the balcony; the other half, in his home office, the door shut tight.
Vaani, too, had been immersed in work. Her mornings began early with site visits, team reviews, and long hours at the office.
She would come home late, sometimes after he'd already finished dinner, and disappear into her study to work on revisions.
They rarely crossed paths now beyond a "good morning" or a silent cup of chai.
But the work - the project - was going brilliantly.
The pace she had set was nothing short of impressive.
In just over a week, half the physical groundwork was done.
Paint was up, lighting fixtures were installed, partitions were set.
The collaborative working spaces, the stunning conference room design, the subtly branded corridors - every detail was coming together like clockwork. She was efficient, calm, and precise.
Mark had taken note. He had been sending Dhruv photo updates nearly every other day, and each time, the progression was more noticeable than the last.
And today, he called.
Mark announced through the phone, "Hey, boss. I really think you should come see this."
Dhruv was standing in front of the large glass window in his Dubai office, phone in one hand, a cold coffee in the other. He hadn't taken a breath between meetings today.
"What's going on?" Dhruv asked.
Mark exclaimed, "We're flying. She's moving at a pace I haven't seen in a long time. Everything's coming together - and it's not just done fast, it's done right."
Dhruv paused. He'd already noticed it from the updates. Even the finishing samples she'd sent had felt refined and tailored. There was something about the way she worked that was quietly commanding.
Mark continued, "Just come down, yeah? I really think you should see it in person before we move to phase two."
Dhruv looked at his watch. Another meeting in an hour - internal finances. But it could be pushed.
"Alright," he said, running a hand through his hair. "I'll be there in an hour."
Mark sounded pleased. "Great. I'll tell Vaani."
Dhruv hesitated for a beat. "No. Don't tell her I'm coming. I want to see the raw picture. Not a staged walkthrough."
Mark gave a short laugh. "Fair. See you soon then."
Dhruv ended the call, slipping the phone into his pocket. He stood still for a second, looking out at the glass skyline in front of him - all sleek lines and architectural dominance. But his mind wasn't in Dubai anymore.
It was on a different skyline now - the one Vaani was helping build in Abu Dhabi.
He exhaled once, set the coffee down, and walked toward his desk to grab his car keys.
~·~
The sun beat down on Abu Dhabi with a sharp glare, but inside the new Deshmukh International branch, it was cool and alive with progress. Dhruv walked through the glass front doors, nodding briefly at the receptionist who recognized him immediately and buzzed Mark.
The moment he stepped into the main lobby, he paused.
His eyes widened just slightly - not the kind of reaction anyone would notice, but it was enough.
The space was stunning. Modern, minimal, sharp, and yet somehow warm.
There were curved walls with hidden lighting strips that glowed softly.
Clean black and ivory contrasts. Carefully chosen accent colors that represented the brand identity but didn't overwhelm the space.
It was still a work-in-progress, but already, it felt expensive. Elegant. Thought-through.
He stepped further in and found himself slowing down - his eyes taking in the details he hadn't even asked for but clearly needed. He heard a faint buzz of conversation from the side and turned.
There she was.
Vaani was sitting at the far end of the corridor on a built-in bench, a laptop open in her lap, phone pressed to her ear.
Her brows were slightly furrowed, eyes flicking between the laptop screen and something on a paper next to her.
She looked a bit stressed - not a lot- but something about her expression made him frown.
She looked... concerned.
He took a few more steps forward, just as she glanced up - and her eyes landed on him.
Her expression shifted instantly, not forced, but almost as if she was trying to smooth it over. She quickly ended her call and stood up, brushing her hair back from her face.
"Hi," she said, walking up to him, shutting the laptop as she did.
"Hi," Dhruv replied, searching her face. "Everything alright?"
She paused for a second, and then nodded. "Yes. Just... timelines and vendor delays and... stuff. It'll be handled."
He narrowed his eyes slightly, not fully convinced, but didn't push. "Hmm."
Then his gaze drifted around them again, hands sliding into his pockets.
"This looks... incredible," he said, finally. "The render you showed doesn't even come close to how this feels in person."
Her lips curved into a surprised smile. "Thank you."
"Not just saying it," he added. "It's clean. Sophisticated. Feels global."
Vaani's expression softened - not just in relief, but in the way someone looks when their work is seen for what it is. Not just acknowledged, but truly understood.
Before she could say more, one of her team members called her from the hallway.
"Vaani? Just need a second on the lighting panel dimensions."
"Coming," she said quickly, then looked at Dhruv again, almost apologetically. "I'll just be a minute."
He nodded. "Go."
And she left.
But Dhruv didn't walk away. He stayed exactly where he was, turning slowly on his heel to take in the rest of the space.
A worker rolled past with a trolley of fixtures.
Two more painters were applying finishing coats in the hallway.
There was a quiet, focused energy all around - and it reminded him of offices he'd seen in Singapore, London, L.A.
And at the center of it was her. Calm. Collected. Guiding everything without ever raising her voice. It wasn't just her design that impressed him - it was her presence.
There was something about the way she moved through chaos like it was natural.
He found himself watching her from across the room, just for a moment longer.
Still wondering what that brief look of worry was.
Still not understanding why it mattered to him. But knowing... it did.
The energy in the office had settled into that late afternoon rhythm - the kind that comes after a productive morning, when everyone's earned a break.
Mark clapped his hands together, his voice cutting through the quiet hum. "Alright, everyone - lunch?" He looked around, eyes eventually settling on Dhruv with a raised brow. "You joining us, boss?"
Dhruv opened his mouth, instinctively ready to say no. He never did these things. Team lunches weren't his style - especially not when his brain was cluttered with work and unread emails.
But then Vaani walked over, swiping her hands against her pants, a smudge of paint near the edge of her sleeve. "Sure," she said casually, "the base coat's drying. We've got time before the next phase."
He paused.
Something about the way she said it - the easy calm in her voice, the quiet control - made him stop.
He glanced at her, then back at Mark. "Alright. I can take out an hour."
Mark grinned. "Perfect."
They all began filing out of the building in groups, light conversation already floating between them. Dhruv stepped back, holding up a hand.
"I'll catch up - left my phone inside."
Mark nodded. "We'll be outside."
Dhruv turned back into the silent building. The space felt different with everyone gone - hollow, almost meditative. His footsteps echoed slightly as he headed back toward the makeshift workstation where he'd set his phone earlier.
As he picked it up, his eyes drifted toward her corner.
Her laptop was still open, screen glowing. He heard the loud buzz of message notifications pinging one after the other - a flood of them.
Something made him step closer.
He wasn't snooping. Not really. It was right there, and the buzzing was loud enough to draw attention.
He leaned forward just slightly and read the screen.
Ria ??
Vaaani send me the pics naaa pls!
Tell Mark to send videos also
Also you didn't tell me what you're wearing for my cocktail!!
There were more - messages from another group chat called Ria's Bridesquad - all half-chaotic and celebratory.
Dhruv let out the faintest chuckle, a rare and almost unnoticeable softening of his jaw.
That's what she was hiding behind all that stress? Wedding madness?
But then, as he began turning, something caught his eye.
A different tab, still open but minimized.
He paused.
And then clicked.
His brow furrowed.
He stared at the screen for a second. It was a standard form - fields filled halfway. Nothing specific, no attachments yet. Just the basic details.
But why?
Why would Vaani - who had studied at UCL and Oxford - be filling out a student loan form now? And for whom?
It didn't make sense.
She'd mentioned nothing about studying further. And even if she was applying for someone else... it wasn't clear. It didn't fit the version of her he thought he knew - self-sufficient, confident, composed.
Something about the form made a strange unease ripple through him. Not in a dramatic way. Just... a flicker of discomfort. A question that didn't have an answer.
Before he could think further, his phone buzzed in his hand this time.
Mark: Sir? Coming? They're deciding the restaurant.
Dhruv blinked.
"Huh? Yeah," he muttered under his breath.
He quickly minimized the tab and shut the laptop gently, making sure everything looked exactly the way it had before.
As he turned and walked out, the air outside suddenly felt heavier.
Lunch. Yes. That's what he was heading to.
But his mind?
It was stuck somewhere between those flood of wedding messages... and the unexplained weight of an education loan form that didn't belong to the girl he thought he was beginning to understand.
And for some reason, that bothered him more than it should've.
The restaurant was a casual bistro tucked into a corner near the waterfront. Warm lighting, clinking cutlery, and laughter made it feel like the sort of place where time slowed down.
Dhruv stepped in, his tall frame drawing momentary glances as he scanned the table his team had taken over.
They were all seated already - Mark, two members from the design team, one from logistics, and Vaani.
The only empty chair?
Right next to her.
He blinked once, the hesitation brief but very much there, then walked over and slid into the seat beside her.
He noticed it immediately - the way her spine straightened just slightly, a flicker of stiffness in her shoulder. But within seconds, she relaxed again, as if mentally reminding herself: you're fine. He's just... Dhruv.
Across the table, Mark was animated, explaining something about the wall fixture plan to one of the interns.
Vaani sat listening, nodding every now and then, her eyes attentive and curious - the same way she always was when she was immersed in anything creative.
She hadn't said much to him since their quick exchange in the office, but that wasn't unusual.
Still, Dhruv didn't miss the faint, guarded energy about her today. Not like their late-night chat or the quiet chai breaks. Something was off.
The waiter came around with the orders soon - plates clinking down on the wooden table.
Dhruv's eyes flicked to Vaani's plate.
A small salad. Some boiled vegetables. A glass of lime water.
He tried not to make a face but failed.
Seriously?
Then the waiter came to Dhruv.
"Sir, what can I get for you?"
Dhruv glanced at the menu quickly and shut it. "Fettuccini Alfredo," he said. "Large. Veg."
The waiter nodded. "Anything else, sir?"
He shook his head. "That'll do."
When the pasta arrived - a steaming, creamy plate large enough for two - he picked up the serving spoon silently, scooped a generous portion, and added it to her plate without so much as a word.
She blinked and turned to him, startled. "W...what?"
He didn't look at her. Just leaned back, picked up his fork, and finally met her gaze.
"You're twenty-four, Vaani. Not two plus four. That's the diet of a six-year-old."
Her lips parted, ready to protest - to say she wasn't that hungry, or that she preferred light meals during work.
But then he added, in a voice quieter, firmer: "Eat this pasta too. Please."
Something about the way he said it made her words vanish. It wasn't commanding or mocking. It was... sincere. Almost gentle, if Dhruv Deshmukh even had that register in his voice.
She hesitated, then gave a small nod.
He looked away and dug into his food, but not before seeing her quietly pick up her fork and take a bite.
Around them, conversation carried on - office gossip, music recommendations, jokes about Mark's obsession with symmetry in design.
But Dhruv was only half-present.
He wasn't sure why it bothered him - that she was eating like she hadn't had a full meal in days. Or that there was an education loan form open on her laptop earlier. Or that she'd looked genuinely anxious for a moment before noticing him and covering it up with a smile.
She was here, in his office, doing a stellar job. Working hard, managing people, holding her own in a space he had built from scratch.
And yet - there was something about her today that felt... quieter.
She took another bite, and from the corner of his eye, he saw her sneak a glance at him.
"What?" he asked softly, still chewing.
"Nothing," she said, brushing her hair behind her ear. "It's good. The pasta, I mean."
He let out a faint "hmm," and kept eating.
When she looked away, he allowed himself a few seconds to watch her again - the way she shifted in her seat, the way her lashes lowered when she was thinking, the way she smiled only with the corner of her mouth when she liked something but didn't want to admit it aloud.
He didn't understand why he was noticing so much.
Or why he had ordered a large pasta knowing fully well he wouldn't finish it - but suspecting she needed it more than he did.
~·~
The afternoon sun filtered through the tall glass windows of the under-construction office space, casting shifting shadows as the workers moved around-rolling in paint trays, lifting boxes, adjusting wires.
There was the sound of hammering, distant drilling, footsteps crossing back and forth.
The place, though half-done, was alive with motion.
Vaani sat quietly at one of the makeshift tables pushed to the side of the floor.
Her laptop was open, but she wasn't really working anymore.
Her part-the conceptual part-was largely done.
Now, it was about execution. Physical labour, supervision.
She'd checked all the details twice over, marked things, handed over her notes to Mark.
Now it was waiting, watching, occasionally giving input.
But mostly, it was stillness.
And boredom.
She tapped her pen gently on her sketchpad, idly doodling a curve she'd already drawn ten times over.
She watched the way the paint was being layered, how the glass partitions were being cleaned, how the wiring was being hidden cleverly behind the wooden panelling.
All satisfying. All... not requiring her attention anymore.
From across the room, Dhruv had been watching. Subtly. He was speaking to one of the lighting contractors but kept noticing her. That fidgety stillness. The way her eyes moved with purpose but her fingers didn't.
He dismissed the man he was talking to and walked across the room, stopping near her table.
"Vaani," he said.
She looked up quickly. "Yes, Sir-" and caught herself just half a second too late.
He raised an eyebrow.
She sighed, immediately flustered. "Sorry. Force of habit."
"I've told you not to call me that," he said plainly.
"I know. But we're working for you. It's just automatic."
He tilted his head slightly, his voice calm but pointed. "You're not working for me. You're designing my company's floor. There's a difference."
She blinked, slightly caught off guard by his insistence.
He folded his arms and added, "Your company is currently working alongside mine. Not beneath it."
She slowly nodded, unsure of what to say.
Then his tone shifted-gentler, but more personal.
"If you want to call me something," he said, "I have a name."
His eyes didn't waver from hers.
And for a second, she was still.
It hit her then-that she hadn't once said his name out loud. Not since the wedding, not at home, not even by accident. Not in her thoughts. Not to anyone.
And clearly, he'd noticed.
"Dhruv," he said, when she didn't reply. "You can call me Dhruv."
She met his eyes-uncertain, shy-but nodded slightly. "Okay."
"Anyway," he said, glancing around the buzzing floor, "I can tell you're bored. Want a quieter place to work?"
She gave a small shrug, as if trying to downplay it. "Maybe. I was going to head to the café down the block, just to get some space and sketch a few things."
He shook his head. "No need."
She looked at him, confused.
"Come with me," he said simply, already turning on his heel.
She stared at his back for a beat and then stood, grabbing her sketchpad and tablet.
He didn't look back to check if she was following. But she did.
They walked through the site, past the workers and their ladders, past the partly painted accent wall and the polished concrete floor.
At the end of the corridor was a narrow stairwell that hadn't yet been fitted with signage.
He took the stairs two at a time and opened a door that led to the top floor.
It was quieter.
Empty, unfinished, and high above the street. But the windows here offered a panoramic view of Abu Dhabi's skyline-glass buildings rising into gold-flecked skies, the early evening light touching every surface with warm edges.
Vaani stepped in behind him, silent, slightly breathless.
"This," he said, gesturing around, "is going to be the executive floor. My office will be at that end." He pointed to the far left corner. "But for now, no one's using this space."
She walked toward the windows, almost involuntarily, her eyes widening at the view. The sound from downstairs was faint here. Just the hum of the city, far and soft.
"It's... beautiful," she murmured.
"I know," he said, not talking about the skyline.
She turned slightly and looked at him.
He didn't say anything else.
"You can sit here," he continued, gesturing to a cluster of makeshift furniture-just a table, two chairs, and some supplies someone had left behind. "Peaceful. Take your time."
She nodded slowly. "Thank you. I wasn't... expecting that."
He shrugged. "You work better when you're not restless."
She looked at him again, surprised he'd noticed that at all.
"I'll send someone up with coffee," he added. "If you want it."
She gave a soft smile. "I'd like that."
And for a few seconds, the room felt full-not with people or noise, but with something unspoken. A steady current. An awareness. A pause.
~·~
The sun was beginning to dip, casting long shadows through the glass facade of the Abu Dhabi office.
The once-bustling site was now quieter-most of the workers had packed up, tools stashed, boots echoing as they descended the stairs or waited outside for their rides.
The scent of fresh paint still lingered, mingling with the faint breeze that came in through the open windows.
Vaani stood near the central work table, collecting her things-sketchpad, tablet, her pen that she'd somehow dropped under the chair. She wasn't in a rush. She never liked being the first to leave. It made her feel like her job wasn't done. Like there was something more she might have missed.
Mark passed by her, slinging his bag over his shoulder.
"You did really good work today, Vaani," he said with a tired smile. "Things are moving faster than we expected."
She smiled softly. "Thanks, Mark."
He paused at the door. "How will you get home? Should I drop you?"
"Oh no," she shook her head quickly. "It's alright, I'll take a cab. Or the bus."
Mark looked like he might protest, but then nodded. "Alright then. Be safe, yeah?"
"I will."
And with that, he walked out.
Soon, the office was almost empty again, quiet except for the occasional murmur of finishing crews or the muffled sound of footsteps in the hallway. Vaani adjusted her bag strap and pulled out her phone to check for cab options when she heard footsteps approaching behind her.
She turned and saw Dhruv walking toward her, coat in hand, car keys loosely dangling from his fingers.
"Why are you taking a cab?" he asked, voice casual but eyes fixed on her.
She blinked, caught off guard. "What?"
He stopped a few steps in front of her. "We live together, Vaani. Why are you taking a cab?"
She shifted slightly, suddenly unsure why she hadn't thought of that. "Oh, I just... I thought you might have more work. I didn't want to disturb."
He frowned gently, shaking his head. "You don't disturb me."
She looked down at her shoes, the toe of her sneaker slightly nudging the leg of the chair beside her. "I also... I needed to stop by my parents' place. Just for a bit. To grab a few things."
There was a beat of silence. When she looked up again, his eyes were on her-curious but unreadable.
"Hmm," he said simply. "Okay then."
She thought that was it-that he'd nod and go back to whatever he was doing. But instead, he stepped back, shrugged on his coat, and lifted his keys.
"Let's go then."
She froze. "What?"
He turned slightly, already heading for the door. "I'm done with work. I'm heading out too. I'll come with you to your parents' place."
She hesitated for half a second too long, but something about the matter-of-fact way he said it made her legs move before her brain could fully catch up.
"Okay..." she said softly.
He didn't wait for her to protest again.
They exited the building together, walking in silence under the now-orange-tinted sky. The air was warmer than before, but not heavy. Just soft. Calm.
When they reached the car, Dhruv walked ahead and opened the passenger door for her. She blinked again-he didn't usually do that-and gave him a small, grateful nod as she slid into the seat.
He rounded the car and got into the driver's seat. The door shut with a familiar thud, the kind that sealed them in with a quiet hum.
He started the engine. The soft purr of the car filled the silence as he began to pull out of the lot.
For the first few minutes, neither of them said anything. The city passed by them in slow motion-buildings glowing in the golden hour, traffic moving lazily, people on sidewalks heading home.
Vaani looked out of the window, one hand clutching the strap of her bag, the other resting quietly on her lap.
She stole a glance at him-one hand steady on the wheel, the other resting near the gear, his eyes focused, jaw set in his usual thoughtful way. He didn't say anything, but his presence didn't feel cold. It didn't feel distant. It just... was.
After a while, she turned her gaze back to the road.
It wasn't loud, this moment. It wasn't dramatic or emotional. But it felt real. Grounded. And strangely, like something had shifted, just a bit. Like she wasn't just sharing a car ride home.
She was being... included.
And even if neither of them said it out loud, that mattered more than she realised.
??