Saturday.
9:28 AM.
Singhaniya Tech.
Weekends made the office quieter.
Not empty.
Just-
Less guarded.
Fewer people. Softer voices. Slower movement.
The kind of silence where things that were usually ignored-
Became noticeable.
Anika was at her desk.
Of course.
Laptop open.
Files arranged.
Work ready.
Because routine-
Was still the safest place to hide.
Her phone lay beside her.
Screen blank.
No new notifications.
No missed calls.
Nothing.
And that-
Should've felt normal.
It didn't.
Her fingers moved across the keyboard.
Emails.
Reports.
Data.
Everything precise.
Everything controlled.
Except-
Her focus.
Because somewhere in between numbers-
A thought kept slipping in.
Friday night.
That pause.
That look.
And something about it-
Hadn't settled.
9:38 AM.
No intercom.
No call.
Nothing.
And somehow-
That felt stranger than routine.
Because now-
She was aware.
Of the absence.
9:42 AM.
Footsteps.
Closer.
Not passing.
Stopping.
At her desk.
Anika looked up.
Because this-
This wasn't normal.
He stood there.
No file.
No tablet.
No reason.
Just-
There.
"Good morning," he said.
Not formal.
Just-
That.
A pause.
Because this-
Had never happened before.
"...Good morning, sir."
"Busy?"
Not a command.
Not an instruction.
A question.
She blinked once.
"Yes."
Automatic.
Safe.
"Hmm."
A small nod.
Then-
"Come with me."
Not to cabin.
Not specified.
Just-
That.
Her brows pulled slightly.
"...For?"
A pause.
Then-
"Coffee."
Silence.
Because this-
Wasn't about coffee.
Again.
"I can have it sent," she said.
Controlled.
Careful.
"No."
Same as yesterday.
But this time-
Different.
Because he wasn't behind a desk.
"You're coming."
Not forceful.
Not raised.
But-
Certain.
And that certainty-
Was harder to refuse.
A second.
Two.
Then-
She stood.
Because saying no-
Would mean acknowledging.
And she still wasn't ready for that.
9:47 AM.
Office Café.
Almost empty.
One corner occupied.
A barista cleaning cups.
Muted music playing somewhere in the background.
They sat across from each other.
No files.
No laptops.
No reason to pretend this was work.
And that-
That was the problem.
The coffee arrived.
Placed between them.
Untouched.
Silence settled.
Not awkward.
Not comfortable.
Just-
Aware.
He leaned back slightly.
Watching her.
Not hiding it.
Not filtering it.
And that-
Was different.
"What?" she asked finally.
Because this silence-
Wasn't accidental.
He tilted his head slightly.
"Nothing."
A pause.
Then-
"You're different today."
Her expression didn't change.
"I'm working."
"That's not what I meant."
Silence.
Because now-
This wasn't professional anymore.
"Then what did you mean?" she asked.
Calm.
But not disengaged.
He held her gaze.
Steady.
"You're trying harder to not look at me."
That-
Landed.
Direct.
Unfiltered.
Unnecessary.
And true.
"It's actually impressive," he said quietly.
"Most people fail in under five seconds."
Her fingers tightened slightly around the cup.
"That's not true."
"It is."
No hesitation.
No doubt.
And that-
Made it worse.
A pause.
Then-
"If this isn't about work, I should go."
There.
Exit.
Safe.
Predictable.
He didn't stop her.
Not immediately.
Just watched her stand.
Turn.
Take a step-
"Why didn't you call back?"
There it was.
Again.
But this time-
Closer.
No corridor.
No distance.
No escape.
She stopped.
Back still to him.
Because turning-
Would mean engaging.
And she wasn't sure she could do that without-
Breaking something.
"That wasn't a work call."
Her voice steady.
Controlled.
Familiar.
"But you noticed it."
His voice quieter now.
Not pushing.
Not soft either.
Just-
There.
Silence stretched.
She turned slowly.
Faced him.
Eyes steady.
"You called for two seconds."
A beat.
"Does that even count?"
A flicker.
Something in his expression-
Shifted.
Not amusement.
Not irritation.
Something sharper.
"Enough for you to notice."
A pause.
Then-
"Not enough for you to call back."
That-
Wasn't casual.
That was-
Personal.
Her breath stilled.
Just for a second.
Because this conversation-
Was no longer balanced.
"You didn't leave a message," she said.
Deflecting.
Restoring.
Trying to.
"I didn't need to."
And that-
That was different.
Because now-
He wasn't hiding behind logic.
Or work.
Or anything safe.
Silence.
Thicker now.
Closer.
"You're making this complicated," she said.
Low.
Controlled.
"No," he replied.
Equally quiet.
"You are."
A pause.
Then-
"I just asked a question."
"And I answered it."
"No," he said.
A step closer.
Slow.
Deliberate.
"You avoided it."
Her pulse shifted.
Because distance-
Was changing.
Again.
"I didn't," she said
a second too fast.
Then-
"You're not asking as my boss anymore." she said.
There.
The line.
Finally spoken.
Clear.
Necessary.
And late.
He stopped.
Just before crossing it completely.
Not retreating.
Not pushing further.
Just-
There.
"Right."
A small nod.
Like he acknowledged it.
But didn't fully agree.
A pause.
Then-
"You want me to keep this professional?"
That question-
Was loaded.
Because it wasn't about work anymore.
Her answer came immediately.
"Yes."
No hesitation.
No pause.
No space.
He held her gaze.
Longer this time.
Reading.
Processing.
Then-
A small exhale.
"Okay."
Simple.
Calm.
Controlled.
But something in that tone-
Had changed.
Because this wasn't acceptance.
This was-
Adjustment.
She nodded once.
Turned.
Walked out.
Again.
But this time-
It didn't feel like she had control.
It felt like-
She had just set a rule.
And he had decided-
How far he was willing to follow it.
6:18 PM.
Work Floor.
The office was nearly empty.
Lights dimmed.
Systems shutting down.
End of day.
Anika packed her bag.
Movements slower than usual.
Because something about today-
Had shifted.
And she couldn't quite place how.
She stood.
Walked toward the exit.
And just before she crossed the glass corridor-
"Anika."
She stopped.
Turned.
He stood near his cabin.
Not behind the desk.
Not distant.
Closer.
Again.
"...Yes, sir?"
There.
Back.
The line.
Placed.
He walked toward her.
Not rushed.
Not hesitant.
Just-
Certain.
Stopped a few steps away.
Close enough to matter.
Not close enough to cross.
"That rule you set."
Her brows pulled slightly.
"...What?"
"Professional."
A pause.
Then-
"I'll follow it."
Relief-
Almost came.
Almost.
Until-
He continued.
"But don't expect me to act like I don't notice things."
Her breath stilled.
Because that-
Was not part of the rule.
A step closer.
Not touching.
Not crossing.
But enough.
She didn't step back-
and that was the first mistake.
"I do."
Quiet.
Certain.
"And I'm not going to pretend I don't."
Silence.
Because this-
This wasn't confession.
But it wasn't distance either.
It was something in between.
Something-
More dangerous.
Her voice came out lower.
"...You should."
A beat.
"If you want things to stay the same."
And that-
That was the real condition.
The real boundary.
He held her gaze.
Long.
Unmoving.
Then-
"That's the problem."
A pause.
Then softer-
"I don't."
Silence.
Sharp.
Immediate.
Because that-
That changed everything.
She didn't respond.
Didn't argue.
Didn't stay.
She didn't stop walking-
because if she did,
she wasn't sure she'd leave at all.
This time-
Faster.
Because staying-
Would've meant hearing more.
And she wasn't ready for that.
Not yet.
Behind her-
He didn't call out.
Didn't stop her.
Didn't follow.
Because this time-
He had said enough.
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