Vyom Shekhar surprising me on my birthday and giving me a card was the last thing I expected.
He actually wrote me a letter — a real, proper letter. If he keeps doing things like this, I will definitely fall for him. I'm not even kidding.
I got a few more wishes from my parents and friends, and a gift delivered to my doorstep from my best friend Veer. He claimed he was out of town so he couldn't come — I wanted to throttle him, but he sent a lovely pair of earrings and a saree, so I'm letting it slide.
The card still smelled faintly of his cologne when I opened it. His handwriting made my heart do that stupid little flip — the kind I can't hide even though I try. Vyom watched me with that gentle, unreadable expression of his, and I felt ridiculously lucky.
My phone buzzed on the table, cutting through the quiet. I glanced at the screen — a number I didn't immediately recognize. "Hello?" I said.
"Is this Nandini?" a firm, slightly breathless voice asked. "This is Kalpana from the district office. Sorry to call on your birthday, but there's been a sudden development. The committee in Meghalaya has approved provisional funding for the village project. They want you and Mr. Shekhar to attend an urgent meeting — three days, starting tomorrow morning. Can you make it?"
Shock and a strange, bright thrill ran through me. Funding. For the village. For the project we'd been sketching on napkins and late-night conversations. I instantly agreed. Because I know Vyom will never deny to this, so I didn't even needed to ask him.
"Okay great, thanks for you time ma'am".
The call ended, and I just sat there for a few seconds, trying to process everything. Birthday surprises, letters, and now this. I immediately dialed Vyom's number.
He picked up on the second ring. "Hey, birthday girl," he said in that calm voice of his. "What's up?"
"Vyom," I said, trying to keep the excitement out of my voice, "we need to go to Meghalaya. The committee approved the funds, and they've scheduled a meeting for three days starting tomorrow. We have to leave tonight."
There was a short pause on his end, then a low chuckle. "So, the universe really doesn't want you to rest on your birthday, huh?"
I smiled despite myself. "Apparently not."
"Alright," he said firmly. "Pack your things. I'll be there in two hours. We'll head straight to the airport , I'll book the tickets on the way."
"Two hours? That's too soon, C'mon no!"
He cut me off gently. "You can handle it. Just grab the project files, your essentials. You'll need it for the meeting."
I rolled my eyes, even though I was smiling. "Only in two hours?"
"Of course. Now stop wasting time and start packing, Nandini," he said, his tone softer now. "We've got a big three days ahead."
When the call ended, I looked around my room — "I need to work hard now".
I started packing everything, and let me tell you — time has never moved so fast. Two hours felt like twenty minutes. Somehow, between the rush and mild panic, I managed to get everything packed.
"Gosh, that was a lot of work," I muttered, zipping up the last bag.
That's when I realized I still wasn't dressed. Perfect.
I grabbed a T-shirt and a pair of trousers, threw them on, and tied my hair into a loose bun. Just as I slipped my phone into my bag, a car horn honked outside.
"He's here," I whispered to myself, grabbing my luggage and rushing downstairs.
Vyom was leaning against the car, scrolling through his phone, the headlights washing over his calm face. He looked up as I came out, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
"Cutting it close, weren't you?" he teased, taking the suitcase from me.
"I was packing our files too," I shot back, trying not to sound breathless.
He grinned. "Then I guess I owe you one for packing the files."
Sarcastic Old man.
The drive to the airport was quiet, filled with the low hum of the radio and the faint city glow outside. Every now and then, I'd glance at him, his focus on the road, his sleeves rolled up, the faint light catching the edge of his jawline. I hated that he looked this composed when my brain was a mess of nerves and excitement.
"You okay?" he asked suddenly, eyes still on the road.
"Yeah," I said, looking out the window. "Just can't believe it's happening. The funding, the meeting,it all feels unreal."
"It's real," he said softly. "And we'll make it count."
At the airport, everything happened in a blur — security checks, boarding passes, and Vyom doing most of the talking while I clutched my coffee and tried not to yawn. Our flight had a short stop in Kolkata before heading to Shillong. By the time we boarded the second flight, the sky outside had turned a deep shade of blue.
Once we were seated, Vyom opened his laptop again. I groaned.
"You seriously can't go five minutes without working?"
He didn't even look up. "You'll thank me when the presentation doesn't crash midway."
"Bossy," I murmured, resting my head against the window.
"Efficient," he corrected, a hint of amusement in his tone.
Somewhere between his typing and the low hum of the plane, I dozed off. When I woke up, the world outside the window was painted green — rolling hills, patches of mist, and sunlight filtering through the clouds.
"Good morning," Vyom said, glancing at me as the plane descended. "Welcome to Meghalaya."
I blinked, stretching. "Already? That was fast."
He smiled. "You slept through half the flight and the turbulence. Impressive."
After collecting our luggage, we stepped out into the crisp air of Shillong. The scent of rain lingered — clean and fresh. A car was waiting for us, and the drive to the hotel felt like something out of a painting. Hills on either side, narrow roads curling through pine trees, and clouds hanging so low it felt like we could touch them.
The hotel was a quiet, cozy place overlooking the valley. Vyom handled the check-in while I stood by the window in the lobby, watching the fog drift past.
"Here," he said, handing me a keycard. "Your room's next to mine. Get ready, we will be heading out for meeting after 3 hours. The meeting starts at 11 am."
I smiled, taking it. "You really know everything, donn't you?"
He shrugged. "Someone has to make sure."
I rolled my eyes. "whatever."
He chuckled. "Breakfast at seven. Don't be late."
As he walked towards his room, I couldn't help but smile. From birthday surprises to flights across the country, everything was moving fast — almost too fast.
But somehow, with Vyom there, it all felt exactly right.
Vyom knocked on my door around seven. "Breakfast in fifteen minutes," he said through the door. His voice was calm as always, but I could tell he was a little anxious.
When I came down to the dining area, he was already there, sitting by the window with a cup of black coffee, scrolling through his notes. The sunlight fell across his face, and for a second, I almost forgot how to breathe.
"You're late," he said, looking up briefly.
"I was deciding between brushing my hair or brushing my brain awake," I muttered, sitting across from him.
He chuckled, sliding the breakfast menu toward me. "Do both next time."
We ordered simple things — toast, omelet, and tea. I barely tasted mine; my stomach was a mess of nerves and excitement. Vyom noticed.
"Nandini," he said softly, "don't overthink it. You've got this."
That one line — calm, confident, steady — was all I needed.
The meeting started at eleven. The conference room was lined with maps, project charts, and a handful of serious-looking people from the funding committee. For the first few minutes, my voice trembled, but once I started explaining our proposal, the words began to flow. Vyom stepped in seamlessly — answering questions, explaining logistics, adding that quiet strength to my nervous energy.
By the end of it, one of the members smiled. "This is a solid plan. You both clearly care about this project. Expect a confirmation soon."
When we walked out, I felt like I could finally breathe again. Vyom turned to me with that rare, genuine smile.
"You did great," he said simply.
I grinned. "We did great."
He nodded, amused. "Fair enough."
On the drive back, the tension slowly melted away. Halfway to the hotel, Vyom asked the driver to stop at a small roadside shop. Steam curled from the pans, and the air smelled like fresh momos and tea.
"Hungry?" he asked.
"Starving," I admitted.
We sat on a wooden bench under a bamboo shade. The owner brought us a plate of dumplings — hot, soft, and perfect. I burned my tongue on the first bite, making Vyom laugh.
"Slow down," he said, smirking. "They're not going to run away."
"They're just too good," I mumbled through a mouthful, glaring at him playfully.
He leaned back, watching me. "You know," he said, his tone quieter now, "I wasn't sure about coming here at first. But seeing you talk today the way you handled the whole meeting,I don't think I've ever been prouder."
I froze, dumpling halfway to my mouth. "You're being too nice," I said, trying to look anywhere but at him.
"I'm being honest," he replied, eyes locked on mine. "You underestimate yourself too much, Rose."
Something in the way he called me rose — low, steady, certain — made my stomach twist. The air felt heavier, quieter. I looked down, pretending to fix my hair, anything to hide the warmth spreading across my face.
"Vyom," I began, but the words didn't come out right.
He smiled slightly, sensing it. "What?"
"Nothing," I said quickly, my cheeks burning.
He didn't press, just watched me with that faintly teasing expression that made everything worse.
The shop owner brought another plate, breaking the moment. Vyom turned away first, and I exhaled slowly, hoping the steam from the dumplings was enough to hide the blush on my face.