Inaaya’s POV
The morning had been a blur of nervous energy and hurried preparation. My interview at the prestigious MNC was a significant step in my career, one that I desperately needed. Despite Stuti’s best efforts to calm me, my nerves were frazzled. By the time I reached Cyber Hub in Gurgaon, I felt like a bundle of anxiety, barely held together.
The office was modern and luxurious, exuding an air of subtle elegance. As I looked around, everyone appeared so polished and professional. My formal outfit felt inadequate, and I clutched the thread tied around my wrist, a small comfort from my Nani, fiddling with it to calm my nerves. The clock struck 8 a.m., but the interview had not started. My stomach churned with hunger and anxiety, so I excused myself to the washroom.
By the time I returned, the interview had already begun. I glanced at my watch—9 a.m. I had spent more time in the washroom than I realized. The receptionist handed me a form to fill out, but before I could register my presence, a young woman in a beige mini skirt and office suit emerged and called my name.
“Inaaya Rathore?”
“Yes, it’s me,” I replied nervously. The woman gave me a disdainful look and gestured for me to enter.
Gathering my documents, I walked into the room, feeling a wave of unease wash over me. The office was silent, the kind of silence that made my skin crawl. The interviewer’s chair was facing a large window, his back to me. He seemed engrossed in reading a file, completely unaware of my presence.
“Sir, the next candidate is here, Ms. Inaaya Rathore,” the stern-looking woman announced.
The interviewer stopped flipping through the pages. My eyes fell on the table, where a nameplate read "CEO." My heart began to race. As the chair slowly turned, I felt a surge of disbelief.
“Aadu?” I blurted out, unable to stop myself.
The man sitting in the chair was none other than Atharv Chauhan, my childhood friend and the person I had tried so hard to leave in my past. For a moment, a flicker of emotion crossed Atharv’s face before it hardened.
“Mr. Atharv Singh Chauhan,” he corrected coldly.
My world tilted on its axis. My clothes suddenly felt too tight, constricting my chest. I struggled to breathe, my vision blurring as darkness edged in. Flashbacks of the past flooded my mind—Dhruv’s laughter, our shared secrets, his lifeless body. The guilt of Dhruv’s death weighed heavily on me, and seeing Atharv brought it all crashing down.
I was transported back to that fateful day. Dhruv’s words echoed in my mind, his unspoken love for me, and his tragic accident. The memories were too much to bear. My breaths came in short gasps, my heart pounding in my chest. I clutched the thread around my wrist, hoping it would ground me, but the panic was overwhelming.
Atharv’s voice was the last thing I heard, soothing yet distant, before everything went black.
When I regained consciousness, I was lying on a plush couch in a private office, a glass of water on the table beside me. Atharv was pacing the room, his face a mask of concern and frustration.
“Inaaya, are you okay?” he asked, his voice softer than I remembered.
I nodded weakly, trying to sit up. The room spun slightly, but I steadied myself. Memories of our past flooded my mind, mixing with the shock of seeing him after so many years.
“You gave us all a scare,” he said, sitting down next to me. “Why didn’t you say something?”
I looked into his eyes, those same eyes that had once held so much warmth and affection. “I... I didn’t know it was you,” I whispered.
Atharv sighed, running a hand through his hair. “We have a lot to talk about, don’t we?”
The gravity of our reunion settled over us. The past five years had changed us both, but the unresolved feelings and the history we shared were still very much alive. As I looked at Atharv, I felt the weight of the years between us, and the unspoken words that had shaped our separate journeys.
Flashbacks of Dhruv's death continued to haunt me. His face, his voice, the unspoken love he had for me—it all came rushing back. The guilt was unbearable. I had chosen Atharv, and in doing so, I had lost Dhruv. The pain of that loss, compounded by the shock of seeing Atharv again, was too much to handle.
As I struggled to calm my racing heart, Atharv's presence seemed to both comfort and torment me. This unexpected encounter was just the beginning of a new chapter in our intertwined lives, one that would force us to confront the ghosts of our past and the unresolved emotions that lingered in our hearts.
I stood up, my legs shaky but determined. “I need to leave,” I said abruptly.
“What? You can’t leave now. You have an interview,” Atharv said, his tone a mix of confusion and concern.
“I can’t do this,” I whispered, shaking my head. “I’m sorry.”
Without waiting for his response, I grabbed my bag and walked out of the office. My heart was pounding, and my mind was in turmoil. I couldn’t face Atharv, not after everything that had happened. The memories, the guilt, and the unresolved emotions were too much to bear.
As I stepped out into the fresh air, I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. The past five years had been a long and difficult journey, and seeing Atharv again had reopened old wounds. But I knew one thing for certain—I couldn’t let him back into my life. Not now, not ever.
With renewed determination, I walked away from the building, leaving the interview and Atharv behind. The road ahead was uncertain, but I knew I had to keep moving forward, no matter how difficult it might be.
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
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