•| TWENTY SIX |•
Krish was deeply engrossed in the stack of files spread across his desk, his brows slightly furrowed as his eyes moved swiftly from one line to another.
The soft ticking of the clock blended with the faint hum of the air conditioner, creating a quiet rhythm inside his cabin.
He leaned back slightly in his chair, adjusting his tie, when a sudden knock echoed on the door.
Without lifting his gaze from the document, he spoke in his usual firm tone, “Come in.”
Before he could even process who had entered, two arms suddenly wrapped tightly around him from behind, nearly squeezing the breath out of his lungs.
“Krish bhai!”
The familiar voice, filled with excitement and mischief, made his eyes widen in surprise. The next second, his chair was being rocked left and right as the person continued hugging him like an overgrown child.
Krish immediately dropped the file on the desk and grabbed the arms around him. “Pratik? Is that you?” he said, disbelief lacing his voice as he quickly stood up and turned around.
The moment he saw him, a wide smile broke across Krish’s face — the kind of smile that rarely appeared, reserved only for people closest to his heart.
“Bhai!” Pratik grinned just as widely before pulling him into a proper hug.
Krish hugged him back firmly, even patting his back twice before pulling away to look at him properly from head to toe. His eyes scanned him with mock scrutiny.
“When did you come back from abroad? And what is this?” he said, grabbing Pratik’s shoulder and squeezing his arm. “God… you became manly, huh? Look at these biceps.”
Pratik laughed loudly, flexing his arm on purpose. “Of course, bhai. Foreign air suits me.”
Krish rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the fondness in them. “Idiot. At least inform before showing up like this. How many years has it been?”
“Three… almost four,” Pratik replied, his voice softening a little.
Krish nodded slowly, gesturing him to sit. “Sit. Tell me everything. When did you land? How’s uncle? Aunty? And why are you suddenly here without warning?”
Pratik dropped comfortably onto the chair opposite him, crossing one leg over the other like he owned the place. “Landed last week. Mom and dad are still abroad. I came back because I wanted to finish my studies here… and maybe settle here if things go well.”
Krish leaned back in his chair, arms folded, observing him carefully. “Hmm… good decision. Home is home after all.”
For a few minutes, they kept talking — about old neighbors, school memories, stupid childhood fights, and the mischief they used to do together. Laughter filled the cabin, something that rarely happened within those office walls.
Then suddenly, Pratik leaned forward slightly, his expression turning excited — almost dreamy.
“You know bhai… today I met my childhood best friend.”
Krish raised a brow, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “Oh? That’s nice. After so many years?”
“Yeah… and not just that,” Pratik continued, scratching his nape shyly, “I think I found the best girl for myself.”
Krish chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. “You didn’t even waste a week after coming back, huh?”
“I’m serious!” Pratik protested, though he was smiling like an idiot. “She’s the same… sweet, talkative, cute… still short though.”
Krish laughed lightly at that. “Poor girl. Already being bullied by you.”
“I’m not bullying!” Pratik grinned. “I’m just stating facts.”
Krish watched him quietly as he kept talking — about how they met at the university, how she hugged him the moment she recognized him, how her smile hadn’t changed, how happy he felt seeing her again.
Krish didn’t interrupt much… he just listened, nodding occasionally, a soft smile resting on his lips. Seeing Pratik this happy after years felt… good. Familiar. Comforting.
But somewhere, for a fleeting second, an unknown image crossed his mind — Samira’s smiling face from the morning.
He pushed the thought away instantly, refocusing on Pratik’s voice.
After talking for nearly an hour, Pratik finally glanced at his watch and stood up.
“It was really nice meeting you, bhai. I should leave now. I still have to arrange my apartment and shift my stuff.”
Krish stood up as well. “You’re staying alone?”
“Yeah. For now.”
Krish nodded. “If you need anything — anything at all — call me.”
Pratik smiled warmly. “I know.”
He stepped forward and hugged Krish again, this time calmer, tighter — filled with years of brotherhood rather than excitement.
“Take care, bhai.”
Krish patted his back. “You too.”
As Pratik walked towards the door, he suddenly turned back.
“Oh, and bhai…” Krish looked up.
“Next time I’ll introduce you to her properly.” Krish gave a small nod, unaware of the strange twist fate was already weaving between their lives.
“Sure,” he said simply.
Pratik left, closing the door behind him.
The cabin fell silent again.
---
Not long after Pratik left, Krish had barely settled back into his chair when another knock sounded on his cabin door.
Without looking up from the file he had forced himself to reopen, he spoke in his usual clipped tone, “Come in.”
His secretary stepped inside, holding a tablet in his hand. “Boss… Mrs. Mehra is here.”
Krish’s pen paused mid-air.
For a split second, his mind went straight to his mother.
“Mom?” he asked, brows knitting together in confusion.
The secretary blinked. “No, sir… your wife.”
Krish’s jaw tightened instantly, his expression shifting back into its cold, unreadable mask.
“What is she doing here?” he muttered more to himself than anyone else before waving his hand dismissively. “Fine. Send her in.”
The secretary nodded and left, quietly closing the door behind him.
A few minutes later, a soft knock echoed again.
Krish didn’t bother lifting his head. “Come.”
You stood outside the door for a moment, clutching the lunch box tightly in your hands, your fingers slightly trembling. Taking a sharp breath, you pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The moment Krish looked up and saw you, his expression hardened.
His eyes traveled from your hesitant face… to the lunch box in your hands… and then back to your eyes.
He leaned back in his chair slowly, raising one brow.
“Mind telling me the reason you came here?” your throat went dry under his gaze.
You nervously nibbled on your lower lip before walking forward and placing the lunch box gently on his table.
His eyes dropped to it.
Then flicked back to you.
“What?” he asked flatly.
“Lunch…” you spoke softly. “I thought you might be hungry.”
For a brief, dangerous second — something warm stirred inside his chest.
A strange, unfamiliar happiness.
Someone… thought about him.
Came all the way just to make sure he ate.
But instead of accepting it…
He felt fear.
Fear of how easily your little gestures were breaking the walls he had built so carefully.
So he crushed the feeling before it could breathe.
“I don’t need it.” you blinked, taken aback. “But—”
“I said I don’t wanna eat this shit. Now leave.” the harshness in his voice sliced through the air.
He knew the moment the words left his mouth that they were wrong.
But he forced himself to stay cold — because accepting your care meant accepting you… and he wasn’t ready for that.
You flinched visibly.
Your fingers curled slightly at your sides as you tried to steady your breathing.
You had only come to be a good wife…
To do something small… mature… thoughtful.
Tears immediately burned your eyes.
You blinked rapidly, trying to push them back.
But the humiliation stung deeper than you expected.
Your jaw clenched.
“Fine,” you muttered under your breath.
Then louder — anger cracking through your voice—
“Screw yourself. Eat your ass.” before he could even react, you turned and stormed out of the cabin.
Krish blinked in stunned silence.
“Yeah! What kind of beha— fuck,” he exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
Meanwhile, you were already walking fast — almost running — towards the exit, tears now spilling freely.
“What does he think of himself… arrogant jerk… I was just— ack!”
Lost in your mumbling, you didn’t notice the figure walking towards you.
You crashed straight into his chest.
“Can’t you look where you’re going?!” you snapped instantly, not even looking up.
“Samira?”
The familiar voice froze you mid-anger.
You slowly lifted your tear-filled eyes.
“Pratik…”
The moment you recognized him, all the emotions you had been holding back broke loose.
You stepped forward and hugged him tightly, burying your face into his chest as sobs shook your body.
He stiffened for a second — shocked — before immediately wrapping his arms around you protectively.
“Hey… hey… shh,” he cooed softly, one hand moving to your head. “Stop crying and tell me what happened.”
“H-he is a-always rude… I w-was ju—” your hiccups cut your words, your breathing uneven.
“Okay, okay… calm down,” he said gently. “Let’s talk outside, hmm?”
He guided you carefully out of the office building toward the small garden area nearby.
The fresh air brushed your face as he made you sit on a bench.
He crouched slightly in front of you.
“Take a breath.” you followed his words, inhaling shakily… then exhaling… again… and again… until your sobs softened.
“Now tell me,” he said, voice steady but protective. “I’m here for you. I’ll break his nose if I have to.”
Despite everything, a weak chuckle escaped your lips.
“Leave it…” you whispered, wiping your tears quickly before standing up from the bench, trying to compose yourself — even though your heart still ached from Krish’s words.