Mumbai.
Glass buildings. Sharp suits. No second chances.
Boardroom silence heavy tha.
"Malhotra Industries is expanding into tech-based academic infrastructure," someone presentation de raha tha.
Head of the table.
Rithvik Malhotra.
Not backbencher anymore.
CEO.
Calm. Focused. Controlled.
Uska style same tha — observe first, speak later.
"Risk analysis?" usne short poocha.
"Competitor firm — Aethra Consulting — is advising the opposing board."
Rithvik ne file flip ki.
"Aethra?" he repeated.
"Yes. Lead strategist is handling this personally."
"Name?"
"Apurva Sharma."
Pause.
Room silent.
Rithvik ka expression change nahi hua.
Bas ek second ke liye uski grip pen pe tight hui.
Seven years.
Aur naam abhi bhi effect karta tha.
"Schedule the joint review meeting," usne neutral tone mein kaha.
"Tomorrow. 11 AM."
Next Day.
Conference room — neutral territory.
Door open hua.
Apurva andar aayi.
Formal suit. Minimal makeup. Confident walk.
Not the scholarship girl anymore.
She didn't look surprised.
She had already seen the company name.
Unki aankhen mili.
No shock expression.
No awkward smile.
Bas ek silent recognition.
"Ms. Sharma," Rithvik stood up professionally.
"Mr. Malhotra," she nodded.
Same tone.
Different world.
Baithte waqt dono ek second ke liye ruk gaye.
Same table.
Opposite sides.
Jaise school library.
History repeat ho raha tha.
Meeting start hui.
Professional arguments.
Strategic counters.
Sharp points.
Apurva clear thi.
"Your expansion model ignores regional equity impact."
Rithvik calm.
"And your proposal ignores scalability."
Board members impressed the.
Tension visible tha.
Par iss baar personal words nahi the.
Bas intelligence clash.
Meeting end hone ke baad sab log room se nikal gaye.
Door close.
Silence.
Seven saal ka silence.
Finally Rithvik ne kaha —
"You didn't reach out."
Direct.
No hello. No how are you.
Apurva ne uski taraf dekha.
"You didn't either."
Same tone.
Same stubbornness.
Par iss baar ego childish nahi tha.
Bas history heavy thi.
"Truth pata chal gaya tha," Rithvik ne calmly kaha.
"Mine too," Apurva replied.
Pause.
"That day…" he started.
"Too late," she finished.
Silence again.
No shouting.
No emotional breakdown.
Bas controlled hurt.
And unfinished sentence.