CHAPTER 44
ISHIKA
I don’t mean to go to him. Sometimes lying to oneself feels better than accepting the underlying truth. The file in my hand is real—final layouts, revisions he needs to sign off on, a few cost changes that can’t move forward without his approval. It’s valid and very necessary work.
But I could have sent it through Ajay. I could have scheduled it. I could have waited. Instead, I print it, align the pages twice even though they’re already straight, and walk out of my workspace before I can think too much about why my steps feel…lighter.
There is a small, quiet anticipation sitting under my ribs.
After the conversation I had with him this weekend, I somehow felt…
myself relax a bit. I could spiral and shut off like I always do but…
I feel like I don’t want to. I want to show myself to someone and that’s only going to be him because I… trust him.
I don’t examine the way my fingers smooth down my hair as I walk.
Or the way I check my reflection in the glass partition as I pass it.
Or the fact that I’m already thinking about what he’ll say when he sees me.
I am happy I am trying not only because I want to be seen…
but because he deserves it too, my softer side.
The corridor to his office is quieter than usual. Most people are still at their desks, the afternoon lull settling into that steady rhythm of work that doesn’t demand urgency. I slow slightly as I reach his door—not intentionally, just…instinctively.
It’s partially open. Voices drift through.
Ajay’s and his.
I lift my hand to knock—and then stop. “Insurance is sorted,” Ajay is saying, his tone low, controlled in that precise way he always speaks. “They won’t question it further.”
There’s a pause and the only sound audible is paper shuffling. “Good.” Aryan replies, his voice so calm. Something about it makes me frown.
I don’t move. I don’t know why I don’t move, it’s not like me to eavesdrop but something about this doesn’t feel right. Maybe because something in Ajay’s tone has changed. Sharpened.
“You were reckless,” he says quietly. “This could have gone very differently.” My fingers tighten around the file.
Reckless?
There’s a small beat of silence. “I know.” Aryan
And then Ajay says something that makes everything inside me go completely still.
“You committed arson, Sir.” The word lands like a crack through glass.
Arson.
My heartbeat stutters.
No.
That doesn’t make sense.
That—“What exactly was your plan?” Ajay continues, quieter now, but the edge is unmistakable. “Because burning your own office down is not—”
“I didn’t burn it down,” Aryan cuts in, irritation threading through his voice now. “It was a controlled fire.”
“That doesn’t make it better.”
“If it brought her near me,” Aryan says, voice lower now, something almost careless in the way it slips out, “I’d do it again.”
Everything inside me stops. The file in my hand suddenly feels too heavy. My mind doesn’t process it immediately. It just…echoes.
I’d do it again.
For a second, I think I misheard. That I filled in the blanks wrong. That this is some misunderstanding I’ll laugh about later. But the silence that follows isn’t confusion. It’s acceptance.
Ajay doesn’t argue. Doesn’t correct him. Just exhales like a man who expected that answer and didn’t like it.
“You’re playing a dangerous game.”
“I know.” There’s no hesitation in Aryan’s voice.
No regret. And something inside my chest twists so sharply it almost hurts.
Because I understand. Not the action. But the reason behind it.
And it makes me feel worse. He had to take such a drastic step to bring me closer because I couldn't be an adult and talk about that night.
I push the door open without any warning. Both of them look up. Ajay immediately straightens, expression smoothing out into something neutral.
Aryan—Aryan freezes. Just for a second. But I catch it. The way his body stills. The way his eyes flicker over my face like he’s trying to read exactly how much I heard. It doesn’t take long for him to figure it out.
“Ajay,” he says quietly. Ajay nods once and leaves without another word.
The door closes behind him and silence fills the room. My eyes don’t leave Aryan. “What was that?” My voice is steady. Too steady. That’s how I know I’m angry.
He doesn’t answer immediately. He just watches me very carefully.
“Sunshine—”
“No,” I cut him off. “You don’t get to call me that right now.” He flinches, only a bit but I notice it. “What did he mean?” I ask, taking another step forward. “About the fire.”
He exhales slowly and runs a hand through his hair. “...It was under control.”
“That’s not what I asked.” My grip tightens around the file until the edges press into my palm.
“Did you do it?” The question hangs between us.
“Yes.” The word is quiet. But it lands like a blow. For a second, I just stare at him. Waiting for him to take it back. To laugh. To say it was a joke. He doesn’t.
“Why?” I know why but I want to hear it from him.
“You were avoiding me.”
My chest rises sharply. “You set your office on fire—”
“It was controlled—”
“I don’t care,” I snap, my voice finally breaking through the calm I was holding onto. “You put yourself in danger.”
“I knew exactly what I was doing.”
“That doesn’t make it better!” The words echo louder than I expect. I don’t lower my voice this time. I don’t try to soften it. Because this—This is not something I can just…accept.
He takes a step closer. Like approaching something fragile.
“I couldn’t take it.” His voice is quieter now.
“I couldn’t take you pulling away like that.
” My breath catches. “I thought I messed everything up that night,” he continues, words coming faster now, like they’ve been sitting in him too long.
“I thought I pushed too far. And then you just—shut down. You wouldn’t look at me.
You wouldn’t talk to me. Everything went back to how it was before and I—”
He stops and runs a hand through his hair again, frustration slipping through now. “I didn’t know how to fix it.”
I stare at him. “You don’t fix something like that by—burning your office down.”
“I didn’t burn it down.”
“You set it on fire.”
“It was small—”
“Don’t you dare!” I jab my finger into his chest, “I have seen the damage!” My voice cracks.
That’s what stops him. Because this isn’t just anger anymore.
It scares me how easily his thought went to putting himself in danger rather than maybe…
trying to cage me. He may have wanted to not push my boundaries but the thought of something happening to him feels me with equal part of rage as it does with fear.
“You could have gotten hurt,” I say, quieter now, but the words feel heavier than before.
“I didn’t—”
“You could have.” I bark. His eyes are intense as he gazes at me and my breath shakes now, “I don’t…” I shake my head, trying to steady my breathing. “I don’t understand how you thought that was okay.”
“I wasn’t thinking about it like that.”
“Then how were you thinking about it?”
He hesitates. Just for a second. “I just wanted to be near you.” The honesty in his voice makes something in my chest twist painfully. “I thought I’d lost that.”
My fingers loosen slightly around the file. “You didn’t,” I say, softer now.
“It felt like I did.” Silence settles again. He takes another step closer. Close enough that I can see the faint tension still in his jaw. “I know it was stupid,” he says quietly. “I know it wasn’t the right way to handle it.”
“Then why did you do it?”
“Because I panicked.”
That catches me off guard.
“You?” I ask before I can stop myself.
He huffs out something that almost resembles a laugh. “Yeah,” he says. “Me.”
I don’t respond immediately. Because I can see it now.
Not the action. But the emotion behind it.
The same fear. The same…desperation I’ve felt before.
Just expressed differently. “Ishika,” he says, softer now, his voice losing that edge completely, “I thought I ruined it before it even had a chance to become something.”
My chest tightens. “And I didn’t know how to fix it without pushing you further away.”
The room feels smaller now. “I’m not saying it was right,” he adds quickly. “I know it wasn’t.”
I take a step forward before I can think about it.
The file slips from my hand onto the table behind me, forgotten.
He watches me carefully. Like he’s not sure what I’m going to do next.
Honestly, neither am I. “You scared me.” The words come out barely above a whisper.
I see it in the way his expression shifts. The way something softens immediately.
“I didn’t mean to.”
“But it did,” I huff, “And I am upset with you and I won't talk to you for a while because if I do…If I see you I may punch you for being such a caring Idiot.”
I kiss his cheek gently so he doesn’t feel I am pulling away and end up doing something…stupid but I need him to learn that this isn’t right and shouldn’t ever happen again.