Khanna Residence – Early Morning

The sunlight streamed through the massive French windows of the Khanna mansion. The quiet hum of birds outside was broken by the rhythmic beat of footsteps in the home gym.

Reyansh stood shirtless, sweat glistening on his skin as he finished his last rep, his veins taut, muscles flexing with frustration more than effort. It wasn’t just a workout—it was his daily war with emotions he refused to name.

After a cold shower, he stepped out wearing a white formal shirt, tucked into black tailored trousers with a black blazer, a rolex watch clinging to his wrist. His hair, slicked back but tousled just enough to give away his chaos.

He walked down to the breakfast table where his parents were already seated.

His father folded the newspaper and looked at him.

> “Reyansh, tum kisi ko dekh rahe ho ya nahi? Agar nahi, toh batao. Hum ladki dekh lete hai tumhare liye. You can’t be stuck in the same place forever. Hume bhi toh apne pote-potion ko dekhna hai.”

(Are you seeing someone or not, Reyansh? If not, tell us. We’ll find a girl for you. You can’t stay frozen in the past forever. Even we want to see our grandchildren.)

His mother chimed in, more gently this time.

> “Aur waise bhi kuch din se dekh rahi hoon, tu thik nahi hai . Kahi khoye rehte hai . Shaadi ke beech puch nahi paayi… ab ghar aa gaye hain toh bol, kuch hai?”

(I’ve been watching you… you’re not yourself these days. Always lost. I couldn’t ask during the wedding, but now you’re back—tell me, is there something going on?)

He paused. And suddenly, like a reflex, her face flashed before him.

Ira.

Her voice. Her eyes. Her silence.

But he composed himself. Cold. Distant.

> “No. It’s just work. Nothing else. And marriage… I’m not ready for it. I’m happy alone.”

Without finishing breakfast, he picked up his car keys and left for the office.

---

Ira’s House – Later That Morning

The alarm buzzed. Again. And again.

It was her mother's last call, no shout that finally woke her up.

“Iraaaaaa utha jaaa”, her mother said shouting.

She sat up, blinking. “Shit,” she muttered, rushing to the washroom. “I’m late!”

Today was her first day back at work after the wedding.

She slipped into a soft cream-colored kurti with delicate floral threadwork all over, a little deep V neckline, paired with a matching dupatta. A tiny black bindi sat between her brows, and kajal lined her tired eyes. She wore small silver jhumkas, just enough to remind herself she still loved looking good—even if she didn’t feel it.

Downstairs, her family sat having breakfast.

> “Beta, nashta karke jaa,” her mother called out from the dining table.

(Have breakfast before you leave, dear.)

> “Maa, I’m already late. Office mein kuch kha loongi,” she said, grabbing her bag and rushing out.

(Mom, I’ll eat something at the office.)

—

ITA Industries – Conference Wing

Reyansh was already in office, reviewing documents, when his thoughts wandered.

> “Aaj toh aani chahiye… ya phir nahi aayegi?”

(She should be coming today… or maybe not?)

He finally turned to Neha, the junior manager under Ira’s project wing—who had always been just a bit too interested in him.

> “Miss Neha, Miss Ira has joined today or is she still on leave?” he asked in his formal tone.

Neha smiled, tilting her head.

> “Yes sir, she’s coming today.”

Then, slightly leaning closer:

> “But sir, aap kahaan the itne dinon tak? You just disappeared.”

(Where were you all these days, sir?)

Reyansh’s eyes sharpened.

> “Miss Neha, it’s personal. And I don’t appreciate anyone interfering in my personal life.”

Before Neha could respond, the cabin door burst open.

Ira.

Her face froze seeing them.

> “Oh, I’m sorry… If I’m interrupting something personal, please continue. I’ll leave.”

Her tone was cold. Almost mocking.

She turned sharply.

> “Ira—” Reyansh rushed behind her, catching up before she could step away.

He grabbed her wrist gently and pinned her near a side wall.

Their eyes locked.

Her dark brown orbs—burning.

He bent slightly toward her, his breath warm on her skin.

> “Jealous? Miss Ira”

> “Why would I be?” she snapped back.

> “Toh phir tumhari aankhon mein yeh aag kyun hai?”

(Then why is there fire in your eyes?)

> “It’s nothing like that, Mr. Khanna.” she said, shifting her eyes away—but only for a second.

She could feel his closeness. Smell his scent. See his hazel green orbs that always… did something to her.

He softened, almost whispering now:

> “Jo aap soch rahi hain, woh sab kuch nahi hai… aap galat samajh rahi hain.”

(Whatever you're thinking, it’s not like that… you're misunderstanding it.)

That brought her back.

> “Why would I even think about it?” she said, pulling herself away.

“I’m no one in your life. And you’re no one in mine”.

“If you think I’m misunderstanding, then Mr. Khanna, you’re mistaken.

Do whatever you want—but not in my office. These are working hours. Respect that.”

She walked away.

And he stood there, shattered.

He clenched his fists and suddenly—

PUNCHED the wall.

His voice shook with raw emotion:

> “Mere liye sab kuch ban gayi hain aap, Ira… aur aap keh rahi hain ke aap kuch bhi nahi?”

(You’ve become everything for me, Ira… and you say you’re nothing?)

> “Shabd nahi mil rahe mujhe… batane ke liye ke aap mere liye ab kya ban chuki hain…”

(I have no words… to explain what you’ve come to mean to me now…)

---

Later – The Conference Room

Ira stood at the head of the long table, giving a detailed presentation.

Reyansh sat opposite her, his eyes not on the slides—but on her.

The cream kurti, the bindi, the soft kajal… her presence was hurting him more than silence ever had.

> “She looks… dangerous. Divine. Untouchable,” he thought.

She asked something to the room, directly looking at him.

> “Mr. Khanna… your inputs?”

No response.

> “Mr. Khanna?” she repeated, louder this time.

> “Uh—sorry. It’s a great plan,” he muttered, standing up and walking out of the room.

> “What are you doing to me, Ira?” he whispered to himself.

“You’re becoming a part of me that I cannot afford to lose. And I won’t. No matter what.”

---

Later – Ira’s Cabin

She sat quietly, her heart still confused.

> “What’s wrong with him?” she murmured.

“Why does he always make things complicated?”

Her phone rang.

Varun.

A dull ache settled in her chest as she picked up.

> “How have you been? I just can’t wait to make you my life partner…”

The words "life partner" echoed strangely in her ears.

Before she could answer, a soft knock came at her cabin door.

Still on call, she said without turning back:

> “Come in.”

And continued on the phone.

> “Varun… abhi toh ek din bhi nahi hua hai shaadi se wapas aaye hue…”

(Varun… it’s not even been a day since we came back from the wedding…)

The moment she turned, her heart dropped.

Reyansh.

He had heard everything.

She instantly said to Varun ,“ I'll call you later Varun”.

> “Mr. Khanna… what brings you here?”

He handed her a file. She opened it and flipped through it silently—until his voice broke the silence.

> “Do you love Varun?”

Her hands froze.

> “Why do you want to know?”

> “Just answer me. Do you love him?”

> “It’s none of your business, Mr. Khanna.”

> “It is, Ira.”

> “It’s Miss Ira, Or Ira Verma for you.”

He swallowed the sting and changed his tone.

> “He’s my childhood friend. And if the woman he wants to marry doesn’t love him… it’ll ruin him. So if you don’t love him—end it now.”

She slowly closed the file and looked up at him.

> “Mr. Khanna, I told you once and I’ll say it again—you are no one to interfere in my personal life. Why do you forget things so quickly?”

He stared at her.

Silent.

Crushed.

And the chapter ended not with a goodbye—but with a question burning in his mind:

> "What if she really loves Varun?"

> "But then why do her eyes… tell me something else?, As if they are hiding something very deep?”