Roohi, too tired to even change, curled up on the sofa and drifted into sleep within moments, her breathing deep and even.
Veena and Apoorva, lingered in the quiet living room, the soft glow of the lamp casting a gentle light across their faces. They spoke in low tones about the day—the pleasant moments that left their hearts lighter, and the quiet sadness that still clung to them from certain stories they had witnessed.
As they talked, Apoorva found herself relaxing in a way she hadn't in a long time. Life had pulled her into its busyness, and the long, meandering conversations with her mother had grown fewer and shorter. Tonight, though, it was different. She was no longer Apoorva-the-grown-woman, managing responsibilities; she was Appu-the-little-girl, legs tucked under her on the couch, laughing softly at her mother's gentle teasing, listening intently to her thoughts.
In these moments, the day's fatigue melted away, replaced by the comforting rhythm of their voices. It wasn't just a conversation—it was the revival of something precious, a closeness that had always been there, waiting quietly to be felt again.
By the time the clock ticked past midnight, their conversation slowed and softened, like the fading notes of a lullaby. Veena, leaning slightly toward Apoorva, reached out without thinking and brushed a loose strand of hair from her daughter's face. The touch was unhurried, carrying the same care she had shown Apoorva since she was a child.
Apoorva paused mid-sentence, her heart swelling with a warmth she couldn't quite put into words. That simple gesture—so ordinary, yet so deeply personal—made her feel secure, loved and safe. Veena's fingers lingered for a moment, as if silently saying: "I am still here, and you are still my little girl."
They continued speaking in hushed tones, their words weaving into the night. Though the day had been long, Apoorva wished this moment could stretch endlessly—just her and her mother, as if the world outside fading into nothingness.
Veena's hand still rested lightly on Apoorva's head when her gaze drifted somewhere far away. "You know… if he was here then this moment would feel quite complete to me," she said softly, almost as if speaking to herself.
Apoorva's eyes flickered, searching her mother's familiar face. "You mean…him?" The question lingered unfinished, slipping into the quiet between them. Veena's smile was faint, the kind that hides more than it reveals. "Someone who knew your heart carried both tenderness and courage, even before you did. He would have deserved a second chance! but unfortunately didn't!"
For a moment, Apoorva's throat tightened. Images pressed at the edges of her mind—a shadowed figure, fragments of laughter, a voice she could almost hear but not quite grasp. It was like reaching for something in a dream and waking just before she could touch it. She forced a small laugh, shaking her head. "Ma, let's not talk about that now as letting bitter thoughts in will destroy the sweet moments now, It's late. I have office tomorrow, Good night!" Her voice cracked slightly, despite her effort to sound casual.
Veena gave her a look of quiet understanding, saying nothing. She simply squeezed Apoorva's hand, letting the silence speak for them both. Apoorva leaned back, staring at the ceiling, willing her mind to steady before the heaviness in her chest spilled over. "I've often wondered why certain memories refuse to fade," she thought aloud. "Maybe they know their place in the story better than we do. Maybe they stay, waiting for the day we're ready to understand them fully."
The morning light came in through the thin curtains, brightening the room. From the kitchen, the smell of cardamom tea reached Apoorva, gently pulling her out of sleep. She sat up slowly, the house quiet except for the faint sounds of Veena moving about.
From the kitchen, Veena's voice floated in a gentle hum—not a song Apoorva knew, but one she had heard her mother sing only on certain mornings, the ones when her mood was somewhere between peaceful and thoughtful. Apoorva padded into the kitchen, her hair slightly tangled from sleep.
"Good morning," she said, her voice still heavy with drowsiness. Veena looked up from the stove, smiling softly. "Good morning, my little owl. Go get ready, breakfast is almost ready." Apoorva sat at the small wooden table, watching her mom moves - the way she poured tea, checked the simmering pot and wiped her hands on her apron. It was an ordinary scene, yet somehow it carried the weight of everything unspoken from the night before.
As she wrapped her hands around the warm cup her mum placed before her, Apoorva found herself blurting, "Amma, you seemed lost in thought last night." Veena paused for a fraction of a second, then gave a small shrug. "Some thoughts are like the morning fog; they visit for a while, then fade when the sun rises".
Apoorva nodded, staring into her tea, trying to believe Veena's metaphor, though the fog in her own chest hadn't cleared yet. She sipped quietly, letting the sweetness of the tea anchor her to the present.
Apoorva got dressed in a crisp light blue kurta with neatly pressed trousers, draping a matching dupatta over her shoulder. She tied her hair into a tidy ponytail and quickly checked her reflection in the mirror before stepping out. Roohi was still rubbing her eyes when Apoorva helped her into her uniform and handed her a slice of toast. The drive to Roohi's school was short, filled with half-sleepy chatter from Roohi and the occasional reminder from Apoorva to 'eat fast, we are almost there.'
After dropping her off, Apoorva headed straight to the office. As she reached the central hallway, her steps slowed. There, by the glass meeting room, stood Aaron—back in the building after nearly three months away, though she don't know exactly where he had been. He was surrounded by a small group of teammates, his voice warm but measured as he gave a brief update. For a moment, Apoorva simply watched. The last time she had seen him, he was wheeling a carry-on suitcase through the lobby, his eyes bright with anticipation for the work ahead. Now he looked the same, yet different—a little more tired around the eyes, but carrying a quiet energy, as if the break had added something invisible behind in him.
Aaron noticed her then, his gaze met hers for a brief second, a flicker of recognition passed between them before he turned back to his teammates. Apoorva walked past, steady in her steps, yet she couldn't ignore the faint awareness that his return might shift the rhythm of the days ahead.
The glass-walled conference room hummed with low voices when Apoorva stepped in, laptop tucked under her arm. The faint hum of the projector filled the space, slides frozen on the first page of the briefing. At the far end, Aaron sat with his usual composed posture—one hand resting lightly on the table, the other absently clicking a pen between his fingers. His eyes moved over the screen as if memorizing every pixel.
Apoorva's gaze brushed past him, just for a second- before she pulled out the chair opposite and set down a neat stack of reports.
The CEO's voice cut through the quiet. "This project is the highest-value deal of the year. Marketing and Operations need to work in perfect sync. Apoorva, Aaron—you'll lead from your respective ends. The timelines are tight, the client demanding, and there is no margin for error." The room's focus landed squarely on them. Aaron's answer was smooth—almost too calm. "The design and development teams will finalize their modules within the deadlines. QA will run continuous checks to ensure nothing is overlooked."
Apoorva flipped her notebook open, pen already moving. "Content and client-facing updates will be synchronized with each milestone. I expect daily status reports—no delays, no exceptions." Aaron's lips lifted in something that wasn't quite a smile. "You'll have them—if you can process them as fast as we send them." Her pen stilled for the briefest moment. Apoorva looked up, her expression unreadable. "I process faster than most." A few muted laughs rippled around the table. The CEO allowed the corners of his mouth to lift, "Then we are in good hands."
The agenda moved on, but the air between them stayed sharp. Apoorva kept jotting notes, acutely aware of Aaron's steady presence across the table. This wasn't going to be easy—then again, easy had never been the point for her.
Apoorva had already heard the whispers about Aaron's unmatched efficiency, stories that drifted through corridors and clung with admiration from colleagues, even he joined this company as a Development Manager a year ago. But this was the first time she was working beside him. Even before she had worked with previous managers but it felt oddly challenging—like trying to match pace with a river she had only ever seen from the bank.
She wasn't one to poke into anyone's life—people were puzzles she rarely tried to solve. And yet... Aaron puzzled her. She didn't know why her mind kept circling back to him, collecting stray details as if they might someday matter.
Aaron, on the other hand, carried his own quiet thrill. He knew exactly how sharp Apoorva was—her reputation for precision wasn't exaggerated. To him, she wasn't just a manager as him, she was a standard to measure against. He wanted to learn from her, to absorb her methods piece by piece. In his mind, she was the superior, though he'd never make that public, never let it show in a way she could call him out. And so the day stretched before them, carrying unspoken curiosities, each silently studying the other through the work they shared.