The rain had no mercy that night.
It fell hard and fast, soaking the city street and blurring the lights into trembling
reflection. Isha tightened her grip around her bag as she hurried toward the bus stop, her shoes already wet, her hair sticking uncomfortably to her cheeks.
Great, she thought. Just great.
It had been a long day—too many mistakes at work, too many silent judgments from people who never bothered to listen. All she wanted was to go home, make herself a cup of tea, and forget the world existed.
She didn't notice the car until it was too late.
The screech of brakes cut through the rain.
Isha gasped and stumbled backward, losing her balance. Her heart slammed violently against her chest as strong hands caught her arms, steadying her before she could fall.
"Are you blind?"
The voice was sharp. Cold. Irritated.
Isha froze.
She slowly looked up—and met the darkest pair of eyes she had ever seen.
The man standing in front of her was tall, his broad shoulders wrapped in a dark coat, rain dripping from his hair. His jaw was clenched, his expression unreadable except for the clear annoyance etched across his face.
"I—" Isha pulled her arms away, embarrassment burning her cheeks. "You almost hit me."
"You walked onto the road without looking," he replied flatly.
For a moment, they stared at each other, rain falling between them like a curtain. The city noise faded into the background, replaced by the sound of her own heartbeat.
"I was going to the bus stop," she said defensively. "And you were driving too fast."
His gaze flicked briefly toward the empty road, then back to her face. "This isn't a place to argue."
With that, he turned away, heading back toward his car.
Isha stood there, stunned.
That's it? No apology? No concern?
"Unbelievable," she muttered under her breath.
She reached the bus stop moments later, frustration simmering inside her. Her hands were shaking—not from the cold, but from the strange intensity of that brief encounter.
She didn't know why his eyes lingered in her mind.
The next morning, Isha walked into the office ten minutes early, hoping to avoid unnecessary attention. She straightened her clothes, took a deep breath, and reminded herself that today would be better.
"Good morning, everyone," the manager announced. "Before we start, I'd like to introduce someone new."
Isha looked up.
And her breath caught.
It was him.
The same man from the rain.
He stood at the front of the room, composed and calm, wearing a crisp shirt and a neutral expression—as if the previous night had never happened.
"This is Aarav Malhotra," the manager continued. "He'll be overseeing our department from today."
Aarav.
The name echoed in her mind.
Isha felt her stomach drop.
No. No, no, no.
His gaze moved across the room—and stopped on her.
For the briefest second, something flickered in his eyes. Recognition. Surprise.
Then it vanished.
"Let's work well together," Aarav said, his voice professional and distant.
As if they were strangers.
Isha clenched her fists under the table.
The day passed slowly. Too slowly.
Aarav spoke only when necessary. He was efficient, precise, and emotionally distant. When Isha asked him a question, he answered politely—but without warmth.
She hated that.
Hated how her chest tightened every time he spoke her name. Hated how she felt small under his calm, unreadable gaze.
During lunch break, she overheard whispers.
"He's strict."
"He never smiles."
"They say he doesn't mix emotions with work."
Isha scoffed quietly. That much is obvious.
Later that afternoon, as she struggled with a report, frustration finally got the better of her. She sighed and leaned back in her chair, rubbing her tired eyes.
"You've made an error here."
Her heart jumped.
Aarav stood beside her desk, pointing at her screen.
"I—" She straightened. "I'll fix it."
"I know," he said calmly. "I just wanted to tell you before it caused a problem."
There was no insult in his tone. No arrogance.
Just… honesty.
For a moment, their eyes met again.
This time, his gaze softened—just a little.
And that confused her more than his coldness ever had.
That evening, Isha stayed back late to finish her work. The office was almost empty when the lights suddenly flickered.
Then went out.
"Seriously?" she whispered.
Her phone battery was low. The emergency lights glowed faintly, casting long shadows across the room.
"Isha."
She turned.
Aarav stood near the doorway, holding his phone torch.
"The power will be back soon," he said. "You shouldn't stay alone in the dark."
"I'm fine," she replied, though her voice lacked conviction.
He hesitated—then stepped closer.
The silence between them felt heavy.
"You shouldn't walk alone at night," he added quietly. "Especially in this weather."
Isha looked at him, really looked at him this time.
There was concern in his eyes.
Real concern.
"Why do you care?" she asked softly.
Aarav looked away.
"I don't," he said. "I just don't like unnecessary risks."
The lights came back on.
And with them, the walls between them seemed to rise again.
"I'll see you tomorrow," he said, already turning away.
As he walked off, Isha stood frozen, her heart racing.
She didn't know why, but she had the strange feeling that meeting Aarav Malhotra would change her life in ways she wasn't ready for.
And somewhere down the empty hallway, Aarav paused.
Just for a second.
As if he, too, felt it.