The office was loud that day, but it wasn't the good kind of loud — not the laughter-over-lunch kind. This was whispers.
Whispers with my name in them.
I caught fragments when I passed certain desks. A pause. A sideways glance. A half-smile. And I knew. Not because they were obvious, but because I had been here before. The same quiet judgement I'd felt back in my situationship days with Yuvraaj — the same way people's eyes seemed to say, "Oh, you're that girl."
That night, lying in bed, I scrolled aimlessly through my phone. My thumb hovered over Yuvraaj's chat window. So much had been left unsaid between us — not just since joining this office, but before. Months before. Back when everything had begun to crack. Back when I thought I was careful enough to avoid this exact mess.
Maybe that's the problem. I thought I knew the rules. I thought I could protect myself from being the villain in someone else's story.
But the truth was, that story started long before my first day here.
Yuvraaj wasn't just another coworker to me — he was someone I had once cared for in ways I probably shouldn't have.
Before either of us ever stepped foot in this office, we were in what people politely call a "Situationship." But for me, it wasn't some careless fling. I gave. I poured. I invested.
On his 22nd birthday, I sent him twenty-two red roses, one for each year. When he was upset, I didn't just send a message; I sent flowers to his doorstep, or a teddy bear — small things that carried big feelings.
I knew how to love because I had been loved before. My one serious relationship had taught me what care really looked like, and somewhere deep down, I wanted Yuvraaj to feel that too.
But I had boundaries.
"I can't be physical with you," I told him one night over the phone. "Not in a situationship. I'm looking for something real — marriage."
"That's fine," he said without hesitation.
And then came the most important rule.
"If you ever fall for someone else or start a relationship, you have to tell me. I will walk away. I will not be your second option or your side chick."
"You have my word," he promised.
That promise shattered thirteen days before my birthday.
I didn't hear it from him — I heard it from her. By the time I found out, they had already broken up. He had been in a relationship and never said a word.
I felt betrayed, but on my birthday, my phone kept lighting up with his name. Call after call after call. I ignored the first few, then the next, but eventually, at the end of the day, I picked up.
I asked,"What do you want?"
"Just hear me out. Yes, I was in a relationship with her, but it wasn't the way I felt about you."
"Then why hide it? You could have told me."
"Because it was nothing serious. And you said we can't be physical — I can't live like that. It's hell."
"Hell is betraying someone who trusted you."
"No, listen… I love you. I can't think about anyone else without thinking of you first."
He hesitated, his voice softer now, almost pleading.
"Okay… I am at fault. But don't walk away from me, Noor. I'm not in a relationship right now. I love you. Her and me… we already broke up. Noor, I can't afford to lose you."
I stared at the phone, my heart pounding, torn between the fury burning inside me and the desperate sincerity in his voice.
somehow, it worked. I believed him.
I went back.
Not long after, he was jobless. Around that time, Aliza — had joined this new office. I reached out to her.
"Aliza, there's someone I know. He's looking for work. Can you check if there's an opening?"
"Send me his resume."
Within weeks, Yuvraaj was hired. His paycheck, his stability, his place in this office — all of it because I opened that door.
And back then, I still thought I had done the right thing.
Months passed. Aliza had settled into her role as HR, and one day she mentioned over lunch:
Aliza asked,"I need a girl in my sales department. It's all boys right now — the balance is off. Why don't you join?"
It felt like the right time. I gave two interviews and cleared them both. But before my first day, something odd happened.
Aliza told me that people in the office were already asking her if Yuvraaj's friend was joining. She looked confused as she said it, and I felt my stomach twist. Apparently, Yuvraaj had already told everyone I was coming — before I had even stepped into the building.
When I finally joined, I felt eyes on me. Whispers. People already knew who I was. I wasn't "the new girl." I was "Yuvraaj's friend."
That's when Rohit, one of his teammates, approached me. At first, it was just casual conversation, friendly. But then, without warning, he dropped a bomb,"You know… Yuvraaj has a girlfriend, right?"
"What?"My face must have shown the shock
His eyes widened like he had said too much,"Forget it, I shouldn't have—"
I insisted,"No, tell me. All of it."
Hesitant, he explained that Yuvraaj had been in a relationship for six months. I didn't want to believe him,"That's not true."
"It is. Have you noticed his stories? He only ever reshared hers — no one else's. If you don't believe me, ask him. Just… don't tell him I told you."
That night, I went home with my mind in overdrive. I couldn't sleep without confronting him,"Rohit told me you're in a relationship."
Yuvraaj said panicky,"What? Rohit doesn't like you. He's putting false things in your head. I'm not dating anyone right now."
The next day, the office felt heavier. Rohit and Yuvraaj had a fight over what he told me. And suddenly, Rohit wasn't talking to me anymore.
The doubt never left me.
I wasn't stupid — I could see patterns, and patterns don't lie. I just didn't have proof.
The girl Rohit had mentioned was always there, always texting Yuvraaj throughout the day. When I asked him about it, the answer was always the same:
"We're working on a project. That's it."
I'm not the type to go through someone's phone — not because I trust blindly, but because I believe if you need to check, the relationship is already cracked. And if there's that much lack of trust, it's better to walk away. So, I believed him.
Until the day I noticed something strange. Her contact name had changed to "Cute Munchkin."
I pointed at his lockscreen notification,"What's this?"
"You know I have a lot of female friends. Remember my childhood friend? You met her — I saved her name as 'Panda.' Does that mean I'm dating her too? No, right? The same goes for this girl."
I wanted to believe him. I really did. But the seed of doubt was growing.
Things got worse after the Rohit incident. Rohit, in his frustration, told everyone that Yuvraaj was involved with me despite having a girlfriend. And instead of clearing the air, Yuvraaj leaned into the performance. He started ignoring me.
This… this was exactly what I had always been scared of.
And now, it was happening right in front of me.
This was the very reason I had taken a promise from Yuvraaj in the first place — that if he ever had a girlfriend, he would tell me, so I could walk away without my image being tarnished. But clearly, that promise meant nothing to him.
In the office, he started ignoring me. Making faces when I tried to talk, as if to show everyone just how "loyal" he was. He was crafting a public image — and I was the villain in it.
But nights were different. At night, he became someone else entirely. The same man who would smile at my words, speak softly, try to pull me back in.
Whenever I was upset by his coldness in the day, he didn't try to fix it at the moment. He waited. Waited until the office walls weren't watching, until he could call me at night and smooth it over with words.
It was a game. And I didn't even realise I was playing.
Later, I found out why. Before I had even joined, Yuvraaj had already set a narrative about me.
She attracts drama. She creates drama with the people she talks to.
In the beginning, that's why people kept their distance. Rohit had been the only one who gave me a chance, who thought maybe Yuvraaj was wrong. But now, because of this mess, I had — indirectly — made Yuvraaj's words look true.
And that hurt more than I could explain.
The seed of doubt had been there for months. But the breaking point came quietly — and cruelly.
It was my birthday.
He didn't plan anything. Not a coffee, not even a moment to see me. Just one dry text:
"Happy birthday."
..
..
..
Ten days later, it was her birthday. And suddenly, there was magic. A whole trip to Manali. Photos. Stories. Smiles that weren't for me.
That was it.
I didn't wait for an explanation this time. I didn't wait for the night call, the soft voice, the "you're different" lies.
I walked away.