He asked me if I was okay, and for a second, I forgot about the walls I’d built around myself.

Nandini’s POV,

The morning felt heavier than usual, though I couldn’t figure out why. I sat in my cabin, trying to focus on the file before me, but my thoughts kept drifting back to yesterday. To the engagement. To him.

Manik Malhotra.

It wasn’t like this was my first time seeing him at work. It wasn’t like we hadn’t spent hours in the same space before. Yet, after yesterday, something had shifted. I couldn’t shake the memory of him saying my name—his awkwardness, the way he looked when I stammered out his.

Shaking my head, I stood up and straightened my dress. Focus, Nandini, I told myself. Work was my escape, my sanctuary, and I wasn’t about to let yesterday's events change that.

I glanced at the clock. He’d be here any moment. Taking a deep breath, I left my cabin and walked toward the elevator. My heels clicked softly against the tiled floor, but my heart was pounding louder than I liked to admit.

The elevator doors opened, and there he was. Manik Malhotra.

Dressed impeccably as always, his sharp suit hugged his tall frame perfectly. His tie was a deep blue today, and it somehow made him look even more intimidating. Or maybe that was just me overthinking.

“Good morning, Mr. Malhotra,” I greeted him, keeping my voice professional and steady, though it felt like my throat was dry.

He looked at me for a brief second, and I couldn’t help but notice the faint hesitation in his gaze. He wasn’t his usual self either. Was he feeling awkward too?

“Morning,” he said simply, his voice lower than usual.

I immediately launched into listing his schedule for the day, hoping the professional routine would help ease the tension.

“We have the board meeting at 10:30, followed by a call with the Singapore client at noon. After lunch, there’s a meeting with the marketing team at 2:30,” I recited as we walked toward his cabin.
He nodded but didn’t say much, which was unlike him. Usually, he’d interrupt with a quick comment or a clarification. Today, his silence felt loaded.

Once we reached his cabin, he turned to me. “Where’s the quarterly report file?”

I nodded quickly, glad for the distraction. “Here it is,” I said, pulling it from my folder and handing it to him.

As I extended my hand, I noticed his eyes linger on it. Specifically, on my hand.

I followed his gaze and realized what he was looking at—my bare finger.

My engagement ring wasn’t there.

Panic bubbled in my chest. He must have noticed, and now he was staring, probably thinking all sorts of things. My fingers trembled slightly as I fumbled to explain.

“Actually…” I started, my voice shaky. “Anyone could notice it here, so I removed it…” I trailed off, pulling at the chain around my neck. “I’m wearing it as a pendant instead.”

I showed him the chain where my ring rested, nestled against my skin.

He coughed awkwardly, his gaze flickering between the ring and my face. “It’s okay,” he said after a moment. “I, uh… I’m doing the same.”

I blinked, confused until I noticed the subtle gleam of a chain peeking out from under his shirt collar.

“You are?” I asked, surprised.

He nodded, reaching up to tug the chain slightly so the ring came into view. “I thought it would be easier this way. Less distracting at work.”

The air between us felt thick, though neither of us acknowledged it. I didn’t know if it was the idea of us both wearing the rings like this or the realization that he’d thought about it enough to do the same as me.

“That makes sense,” I said softly, tucking my chain back under my dress.

He nodded, his usual composed demeanor slipping back into place. “Let’s get to work,” he said, his tone clipped and professional.

“Yes,” I replied quickly, retreating to my desk in his cabin to organize his files.

For the rest of the morning, we worked in silence, but I couldn’t help but notice the subtle tension in the room. Now and then, I’d catch him glancing at me, though he’d immediately look away.

I wasn’t sure what this new dynamic between us meant or where it was heading, but one thing was clear—this wasn’t just another day at work. Not anymore.

Nandini’s POV ends.

Manik’s POV,

I was sitting in my cabin, listening to Nandini go over her detailed handover briefing. She was meticulous, as always, explaining every file, and every piece of information with such precision that I didn’t need to ask twice. It was her last day in the office before she’d officially start working from home till marriage.

Of course, I didn’t understand why this arrangement was necessary. She didn’t want the leave; that much was obvious. But Mom had personally insisted. “Manik, she’ll have so much to do with the wedding preparations. Let her rest and work from home,” she had said.

I knew better than to argue with Mom, especially when she was in her overbearing mother-in-law mode. So here I was, silently nodding along as Nandini wrapped up her last day in the office for now.

“...and this file here has all the financial data for the last quarter,” Nandini was saying, pulling me out of my thoughts. “The marketing report will be sent to your email by Niharika. I’ve already briefed her on what she needs to do.”

I nodded, watching as she organized the files neatly on my desk. Her efficiency never ceased to amaze me. “Got it,” I said, jotting down a quick note.

She hesitated for a moment, then added, “If there’s anything urgent, you can call me anytime.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I think I can manage for a few days without bothering you, Miss Murthy.”

She blinked, looking slightly startled by my comment. For a second, it felt like she wanted to say something, but she quickly masked it with her usual professionalism.

“Can I leave now?” she asked after a moment.

I leaned back in my chair and nodded. “Sure. I’m leaving too.”

She simply nodded and left my cabin. I gathered my things, taking my time before heading toward the parking lot.

As I stepped out, I noticed the weather had taken a turn for the worse. The rain was coming down in torrents, and the sky looked dark and unforgiving. I pulled my car out of the parking lot, my windshield wipers working overtime as I navigated through the heavy rain.

That’s when I saw her.

Nandini was standing near her car, her phone pressed to her ear. Her brows were furrowed, her free hand gesturing in frustration. She looked… tense. Something was wrong.

I pulled my car closer to her and rolled down the window. “What happened?” I asked.

She looked over, startled by my sudden appearance, before sighing. “My car’s tire is punctured, and the cabs aren’t booking because of the rain,” she said, glancing back at her phone.

Of course, it had to be her car. This day couldn’t go smoothly, could it? I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Get in,” I said, nodding toward the passenger seat.

She hesitated, shaking her head. “It’s okay. I’ll manage. The cab will get booked in a few minutes.”

I rolled my eyes, exasperated. “Look at the weather. It’s only going to get worse. Stop arguing and get inside.”
She frowned, looking torn, her gaze flickering between the rain and me. After a long pause, she finally sighed and said, “Okay.”

She opened the door and slipped into the passenger seat, pulling her bag onto her lap. I couldn’t help but notice how small she looked, drenched in the rain, her hair slightly damp and clinging to her face.

“Thanks,” she muttered softly, her voice barely audible over the sound of the rain.

“Don’t mention it,” I replied, starting the car and pulling back onto the road.

The silence in the car was deafening at first, save for the sound of the rain pelting against the windows. She kept her eyes fixed on the road ahead, her fingers fidgeting with the strap of her bag.

“So,” I said after a while, breaking the silence. “Excited about working from home?”

She let out a small, dry laugh. “Not really. I’d rather be in the office.”

“Then why didn’t you just say no to the leave?”

She glanced at me, her expression unreadable. “Your mom asked for it. How could I say no?”

Fair point. Mom could be very persuasive.

The silence returned, but it felt a little less suffocating this time.

“Engagement went well,” I said, trying to keep the conversation going.

She turned to look at me, raising an eyebrow. “You think so? I was sure you hated every minute of it.”

“I didn’t hate it,” I said defensively, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. “It was just… awkward.”

She nodded in agreement, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Awkward is an understatement Mr. Malhotra.”

“Manik,” I corrected without thinking.

She froze, “What?”

“You can call me Manik,” I said, trying to sound casual. “We’re getting married in ten days, after all.”

Her cheeks turned a faint shade of pink, but she quickly nodded. “Okay… Manik.”

Hearing her say my name sent an unexpected warmth through me, though I quickly shoved the thought aside.

Driving in this storm felt like a battle I wasn’t prepared for. The rain lashed against the windshield, and even with the wipers working at full speed, visibility was terrible. The wind howled, rocking the car slightly, making it feel like nature was trying to drag me into its chaos.

I glanced at Nandini. She was quiet, her hands clutching the strap of her bag tightly, her gaze fixed out the window. The faint light from passing streetlamps illuminated her face, and for a moment, I wondered what she was thinking. Was she as uneasy as I was?

The storm’s intensity wasn’t helping my focus. At one point, the road disappeared under a sheet of water, and I realized too late that I’d missed seeing a speedbreaker.

The car jolted violently as it went over it.

“Manik!” Nandini’s shout startled me as she clutched her seatbelt and squeezed her eyes shut.

“Damn it!” I cursed, slamming on the brakes. The car skidded slightly before coming to a halt. My heart raced, and for a split second, panic coursed through me.

I immediately turned toward her. “Are you okay? Did you get hurt?”

She opened her eyes slowly, breathing heavily. “I’m fine,” she said, her voice shaky but firm. “But can you please be more careful?”

Her tone wasn’t accusatory; it was more out of concern than anything else.

I nodded, guilt gnawing at me. “Sorry,” I muttered, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “It was the damn storm. I didn’t see the breaker.”

She adjusted her bag on her lap, trying to steady herself. “Just… drive slower, please. We’re in no rush.”

I nodded again, this time more resolutely. “Got it.”

The car rolled forward, this time at a much slower pace. The storm was relentless, but I focused harder, determined not to mess up again. After a few moments of silence, I decided to ask her something that had been on my mind.

“Where should I drop you?” I asked, keeping my tone casual. “Murthy Mansion or your apartment?”

She glanced at me, surprised by the question. “My apartment,” she said after a pause. “I’ll go to the mansion tomorrow.”

I nodded, though I was a bit curious. “Why not tonight? Isn’t it safer to stay with your family during a storm like this?”

She hesitated, her fingers playing with the strap of her bag again. “I just… I need some time to myself. Besides, they’re busy with preparations. I’ll join them tomorrow.”

Her words sounded unreasonable. I couldn’t place it—maybe discomfort or frustration. Either way, I didn’t press further.

The storm showed no signs of letting up as we drove on, but I made sure to stick to the main roads and avoid unnecessary risks. Nandini remained silent most of the drive, glancing out the window occasionally.

Manik’s POV ends.

Nandini’s POV,

The storm outside was raging like never before. As I stepped out of the car and looked at the sky, the wind howled fiercely, carrying the heavy rain in all directions. The streetlights flickered against the relentless storm, and a deep pit of worry settled in my stomach as I realized it would be too dangerous for Manik to drive back in this weather.

I turned back to him, noticing how he gripped the steering wheel as if contemplating whether to argue with the storm or wait it out. Nervously, I spoke up, “I don’t think it’s safe for you to drive right now. The weather is only getting worse.”

“It’s fine,” he replied curtly, his tone calm but firm. “I’ll manage.”

His usual stubbornness irritated me for a moment. “Manik,” I said with a little more force, “this is not about managing. It’s genuinely unsafe. Just… come inside for a while until the weather gets better. Please.”

He sighed, clearly debating before his shoulders slumped in resignation. “Fine,” he said, running a hand through his hair.

We hurried toward the building, trying to avoid getting drenched. The wind pushed the rain sideways, soaking parts of our clothes anyway. By the time we reached the lift, I noticed Manik wiping his forehead with his sleeve, muttering something about unpredictable Mumbai weather.

The elevator ride to my penthouse was quiet, the soft hum of the lift interrupted only by the occasional clap of thunder outside. I could feel his gaze wandering, likely taking in the small details of the place—my shoes neatly lined up in the hallway, the faint scent of lavender that lingered in the air.

As we stepped inside, I unlocked the door and pushed it open, gesturing for him to enter. “Come in,” I said softly.

He hesitated briefly before stepping inside, his eyes scanning the space. The warm yellow lights of the living room reflected off the large glass windows, beyond which the storm raged on. I noticed his slightly awkward stance, unsure of what to do.

“Please, have a seat,” I said, pointing to the couch. “I’ll bring some water.”

I walked into the kitchen, grabbed a glass, and returned to find him standing near the window, his back to me. Handing him the glass, I said, “Here.”

“Thanks,” he murmured, taking the glass but not drinking right away.

I quickly fetched a towel from the bathroom and handed it to him. “You can dry yourself with this,” I said, noticing the water dripping from his hair.

He took the towel, looking slightly more comfortable. “Thanks again. Uh… which way is the washroom?”

I pointed toward the hallway. “Last door on the right.”

He nodded and walked off while I headed to my room to change. My damp clothes clung uncomfortably to my skin, and I sighed as I pulled on a cozy pair of cotton pajamas. My mind kept replaying the events of the evening—his concern during the drive, the way he had looked at me when I hesitated earlier.

By the time I came out, I found myself naturally gravitating toward the kitchen. Cooking always calmed me down. The rain hammered against the windows as I placed a pan on the stove.

Manik’s voice floated in from the balcony, and I realized he was on the phone. Curious, I stepped closer to hear snippets of his conversation.

“…No, Mom, I’m fine. The storm’s just bad. I’ll stay here until it settles down,” he was saying. After a pause, he added, “Yeah, I know… Don’t worry, I’ll let you know when I leave.”

I smiled faintly, amused by how he reassured Neyonika Aunty like a teenager explaining why he’d missed curfew.

As I chopped potatoes for the parathas, Manik walked into the kitchen. “You didn’t have to go all out. I’m fine without food,” he said, leaning against the counter.

I turned to him with a small smile. “It’s no trouble. I’m making something for myself anyway. You’ll eat, and that’s final.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but I cut him off with a playful smirk. “Don’t worry, Mr. Malhotra. I’m a good cook. You won’t end up in the hospital.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Fine. Anything you want, then.”

“I’ll make aloo paratha,” I said quickly. “It’s fast and simple.”

“Sounds good,” he said, sitting on a nearby chair.

As I kneaded the dough, I felt his gaze wandering around the kitchen, taking in the small personal touches I’d added—framed photographs on the counter, colorful fridge magnets from my travels, and a few recipe books stacked neatly in a corner.

Breaking the silence, he said, “By the way, Mom asked if you wanted to make any changes to the room.”

I paused, rolling out the dough. “Your room?” I asked, turning slightly to look at him.

“Yeah,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “You haven’t seen it, so… I guess it’s an invalid question.”

I laughed lightly. “You’re right. I haven’t seen it. So, do you think it needs changes?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it.”

Smiling, I said, “Well, you don’t have to change it for me. Keep it as it is.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, his tone uncertain.

“Damn sure,” I replied with a teasing grin.

He shook his head, smiling faintly as he leaned back in his chair.

As I placed the parathas on the stove, the aroma of cooking filled the air. For a moment, the storm outside felt like a distant hum, and the warmth of the kitchen seemed to cocoon us in a space that felt surprisingly easy.

And just like that, the awkwardness between us seemed to melt away, replaced by something lighter, something… comfortable.

Nandini’s POV ends.

Manik’s POV,

The sound of rain outside was relentless, creating a rhythm against the windows that seemed to amplify the silence in the room. As I sat in her kitchen, leaning slightly against the chair, my gaze kept drifting to her.

Nandini was focused entirely on what she was doing. She worked with a precision that I couldn’t help but admire. The way she rolled out the dough for the parathas, her hands steady and sure. But seeing her like this, out of the usual office attire, in her casual clothes, was… different.

For the first time, I noticed the small things—how a faint streak of wheat flour had smudged on her forehead, probably unnoticed by her. Her hair kept falling in front of her face, and she repeatedly tucked it behind her ears with a quick motion, almost as if it were second nature.

I didn’t realize I had been staring until she called out, breaking the trance.

“Manik,” she said, her voice soft yet firm, “the food is ready.”

I blinked, sitting up straighter. “Oh, okay,” I replied, shaking off whatever had gotten into me.

She began carrying the plates and bowls toward the small dining table, balancing them carefully. Instinctively, I stood up and grabbed a few items to help her.

“You don’t have to do that,” she said quickly, looking up at me. “I’ll manage.”

I shook my head. “Nandini, stop being so formal. It’s just plates, not rocket science. Let me help.”

Her lips parted as if to argue, but she let out a resigned sigh and stepped aside. “Fine,” she murmured, almost like a child reluctantly agreeing to share her toys.

We set the table together, and for a moment, there was a strange sense of domesticity in the air—something I wasn’t used to but didn’t entirely mind. Once everything was in place, she gestured for me to sit down, and I complied.

As she placed the parathas on my plate, I caught the faintest aroma of freshly cooked food, mixed with the subtle scent of her lavender soap lingering in the air. It was oddly calming.

We began eating in silence, the occasional clatter of cutlery the only sound between us.

“So,” I started, wanting to break the quiet, “how do you think the Sharma meeting will go next week?”

She looked up, chewing thoughtfully. “It depends on how prepared the team is. I’ve already briefed Rajeev about the specifics. He should be able to handle it well.”

I nodded, swallowing a bite of the paratha. “Rajeev is good, but he gets flustered under pressure. I hope he doesn’t crack during negotiations.”

She tilted her head slightly, a small smile playing on her lips. “You know you can always step in if things go south. Isn’t that your specialty?”

I chuckled softly. “Sure, but I’d rather not babysit during every meeting.”

She smirked, taking a sip of water. “Well, that’s the burden of being the boss, Mr. Malhotra.”

I raised an eyebrow at her, surprised by the casual teasing. “And here I thought you’d defend your colleagues.”

“He can manage,” she replied with a shrug. “I’ve given him every detail he needs. He just has to keep his nerves in check.”

I nodded again, impressed by her confidence. Nandini always had a way of managing things efficiently, whether it was handling a chaotic schedule or organizing a last-minute presentation. She had this quiet strength about her, and for some reason, it was more noticeable now than ever.

“By the way,” I said after a pause, “Mom asked about the wedding preparations. She wanted me to remind you to let her know if you need anything.”

Nandini smiled faintly. “Your mom has been too kind. I’ll call her tomorrow. She’s already handling most of it. I don’t think there’s much left for me to do.”

“Knowing Mom, she’s probably got a checklist a mile long,” I said with a small laugh. “She’s been on my case too, asking if I’m ready.”

Nandini looked at me, her expression unreadable for a moment. “And are you?”

The question caught me off guard, but I kept my tone light. “Ready for what? Marriage? Or is my room being invaded by pastel curtains and throw pillows?”

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “Relax. I won’t invade your space. I’ll leave the room exactly as it is.”

Her words were casual, but something was reassuring about them. “You’re sure?” I asked, half-joking but also genuinely curious.

“Damn sure,” she replied with a playful smile, echoing her earlier words.

I found myself smiling back, the atmosphere feeling strangely… easy.

As we continued eating, the conversation shifted back to work—discussing client meetings, pending projects, and the logistics for the next quarter. It felt natural, almost like a routine we’d been following for years.

By the time we finished, I leaned back in my chair, feeling oddly content. The storm outside still raged on, but at that moment, it felt like the world had paused, leaving just the two of us in this small, warm space.

And for the first time, I didn’t mind the interruption in my usual routine.

Nandini was wiping the table clean after our quiet dinner, her movements deliberate and calm. I watched her for a moment, unsure why before she turned to me with a question.

“Coffee?” she asked, her voice soft.

I nodded. “Sure.”

She disappeared into the kitchen, and I leaned back in my chair, listening to the patter of the rain against the windows. There was something calming about the atmosphere tonight, despite how unfamiliar it felt.

When Nandini returned with two steaming mugs, she gestured toward the balcony. “Let’s sit there.”

Without a word, I followed her.

The balcony was small but cozy, with a couple of chairs and a tiny table. The air was thick with the scent of wet earth and fresh rain. We sat down, both of us cradling our mugs, staring out at the rain as it poured over the city.

For a while, neither of us spoke. The silence wasn’t awkward, just... heavy, like there was too much on both our minds but no words to bridge the gap.

“So,” I finally said, breaking the quiet, “how was it? Studying in New York?”

Her posture stiffened slightly, her fingers curling tighter around the mug. For a moment, it looked like she didn’t want to answer.

“It was... okay,” she said, her tone flat, almost uninterested.

I frowned. There was something in her voice that made me think it wasn’t okay at all. “Just, okay?” I probed.

She shrugged, her gaze still fixed on the rain. “Yeah. It was fine.”

I didn’t buy it. “There’s more to that story,” I said, tilting my head to look at her.

Her eyes flicked to me briefly before she looked away again. “Not really,” she said casually, but the way her lips pressed into a thin line told me otherwise.

I decided to let it go. If she didn’t want to talk about it, I wasn’t going to push.

We sat in silence for a few more minutes, the sound of the rain filling the gaps between us. Then she turned to me, her expression more thoughtful this time.

“Can I ask you something?” she said.

I nodded, taking a sip of the coffee. “Go ahead.”

She hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Why did you suddenly say yes to this marriage?”

The question caught me off guard. I sat up straighter, my fingers tightening around the mug.

“Why this sudden question?” I asked my tone light but was curious.

She shrugged, playing with the rim of her mug. “Just curiosity. You weren’t ready before, but then you suddenly agreed. I’m wondering why.”

I leaned back in my chair, thinking about how to answer. “Mom said it was time,” I said finally, keeping my tone casual. “She told me I had to take this responsibility at some point, so why not now?”

Nandini nodded, her expression unreadable. She didn’t look entirely convinced, but she didn’t press further either.

“You didn’t seem fully satisfied with the arrangement either,” I added, watching her closely.

She looked at me for a moment, then shrugged again. “I wasn’t. But it’s happening, so I might as well go along with it.”

I nodded, not satisfied with her reply.

The rain had slowed to a drizzle by then, the storm calming as if it had exhausted itself. I placed my empty mug on the small table next to me and stood up.

“I should leave now,” I said, glancing toward the door. “The weather looks manageable.”

Nandini nodded, standing as well. “Okay,” she said softly. Then, almost as an afterthought, she added, “Message me when you reach home.”

I looked at her, surprised by the request. “Sure,” I said with a small nod.

She walked me to the door, and I stepped out after a brief “Goodnight.”

The drive home was quieter than I’d expected. The rain had almost stopped, and the roads were slick but clear. I reached the Malhotra mansion soon enough, parking the car and heading inside.

The living room lights were still on, and Mom and Dad were sitting on the couch, clearly waiting for me.

“Finally,” Mom said, looking up as I entered. “We were wondering if you’d gotten swept away by the storm.”

I rolled my eyes. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“Go freshen up,” she asked, standing up. “I’ll heat dinner for you.”

“I ate at Nandini’s,” I said casually, dropping my car keys on the side table.

Mom and Dad exchanged a look, their expressions immediately turning to tease.

“Dinner at Nandini’s?” Mom said, raising an eyebrow.

“How romantic,” Dad added with a smirk.

I sighed, shaking my head. “It wasn’t like that. The storm was bad, and her car broke down. That’s all. I told you.”

“Sure, beta,” Mom said, her tone was playful. “Whatever you say.”

I didn’t bother arguing, I was too tired to get into it. “Goodnight,” I said, turning toward the stairs.

“Goodnight,” they both chorused, but I could hear the laughter in their voices as I walked away.

Once in my room, I shut the door behind me and leaned against it for a moment, exhaling deeply. The day had been unexpectedly long, and yet, I didn’t feel as drained as I thought I would.

I changed into more comfortable clothes and sat on the edge of my bed, my phone in my hand. For a moment, I debated whether to message her. It wasn’t a big deal, but for some reason, it felt... significant.

Finally, I typed out a short message:

Reached home.

I stared at the screen for a second before hitting send.

A minute later, my phone buzzed with her reply:

Okay.

Simple, direct, and yet, it left a faint smile on my face.

With that, I placed my phone on the nightstand, turned off the lights, and called it a night.

Manik’s POV ends.

Hope you all like the chapter.....

Few words for Manik...

Few words for Nandini...

Next few chapters will be long and a little fast forward as I want to show Manik and Nandini married as soon as possible.

Favourite moment???

Do comments and vote...

Thank u 🙂🙂

Love,
Kiara ❤️❤️