Aanya learned, over time, that loneliness didn't always arrive loudly.
Sometimes it slipped in quietly, between coffee refills and half-finished emails. It sat beside her during meetings, nodded along, made itself comfortable without asking permission.
Today, it arrived with the calendar reminder blinking on her screen.
Client Review – 11:00 a.m.
She sighed, rubbing her temples.
Neha leaned over the partition. "You look like you're about to fight someone."
"I am," Aanya muttered. "Internally."
Neha grinned. "The best kind. Less HR paperwork."
Aanya tried to smile, but her stomach was already tight. The client had changed the brief twice. Vikram had forwarded feedback without context. And operations—
She stopped herself.
Don't start now.
The meeting room smelled faintly of marker ink and cold air-conditioning.
Rohan Kapoor sat across the table, laptop open, posture straight. He nodded occasionally, typing notes, expression neutral in a way that always made Aanya feel like she was missing something important.
Vikram cleared his throat. "So, the client wants the revised layout by Friday."
Aanya blinked. "Friday? But the approvals—"
"They want it expedited," Vikram said briskly. "Operations says it's doable."
Her gaze flicked, involuntarily, to Rohan.
He looked up. "Given the dependencies, yes. If design can lock changes by tomorrow."
Tomorrow.
Aanya felt heat rise in her chest. "That doesn't account for revisions."
Rohan's fingers paused on the keyboard. "We'll manage the risks."
"That's vague," she said, sharper than intended. "Design isn't a switch you flip."
A beat.
The room went quiet.
Vikram intervened. "Let's stay solution-oriented."
Rohan nodded once. "I'm just outlining constraints."
Aanya folded her arms, jaw tight.
Constraints.
Always constraints.
Outside the meeting room, Neha caught up to her.
"Okay," she whispered dramatically. "What is his problem?"
Aanya exhaled. "He talks like everything is simple. Like people aren't involved."
Neha nodded emphatically. "Operations guys. No feelings, only timelines."
Aanya didn't respond. She hated how easily that fit the version of Rohan she carried in her head.
Across the floor, Arjun leaned against Rohan's desk.
"She didn't look happy," Arjun said lightly.
Rohan kept his eyes on his screen. "We're under pressure."
"Yeah," Arjun said. "But so is she."
Rohan paused.
He hadn't meant to sound dismissive. He never did. Somehow, it still happened.
By evening, Aanya's head ached.
She reached home, dropped her bag, and didn't even turn on the lights before pulling out her phone.
The screen lit up.
Unknown Number:
Long day?
She sat on the edge of her bed, shoulders slumping.
Aanya:
I don't want to talk about it.
Which probably means I do.
Unknown Number:
You can complain.
I'm good at listening.
Her throat tightened.
Aanya:
There's this guy at work.
He's not rude. Just… cold.
Across the city, Rohan frowned slightly.
Unknown Number:
Cold how?
Aanya lay back, staring at the ceiling.
Aanya:
Like efficiency matters more than people.
Like feelings slow things down.
Rohan read that twice.
Unknown Number:
Maybe he's bad at showing things.
Aanya scoffed softly.
Aanya:
Or maybe he doesn't think they're important.
Silence stretched.
Rohan typed. Deleted. Typed again.
Unknown Number:
Sometimes people hide behind structure
because it feels safer.
Aanya's chest tightened unexpectedly.
Aanya:
That's generous.
Unknown Number:
It's possible.
She stared at the message.
Why did this stranger always give people the benefit of the doubt?
Aanya:
Do you ever do that?
Hide behind structure?
A pause.
Unknown Number:
Yeah.
More than I should.
She didn't ask more.
Instead—
Aanya:
I just wish he'd listen.
Like actually listen.
Rohan's fingers hovered.
Unknown Number:
What would that look like?
Aanya closed her eyes.
Aanya:
Acknowledging the effort.
Not just the outcome.
Rohan leaned back against his headboard.
He hadn't realized how rarely he did that.
The next day, the elevator stalled between floors.
Of course it did.
Aanya shifted uncomfortably, gripping her bag strap. Rohan stood beside her, closer than usual. She could see the faint crease between his brows.
He cleared his throat. "About yesterday—"
The elevator jerked slightly.
She stiffened.
"Yes?" she said cautiously.
"I didn't mean to dismiss your concerns," he continued. "I was focused on delivery."
She glanced at him, surprised by the softness in his tone.
"I know," she said. "I just—design needs space."
He nodded. "I'll factor that in."
A simple sentence.
Why did it feel like more?
The doors slid open.
They stepped out.
No further words.
But something lingered.
At lunch, Maya called.
"You sound tired," she said.
"I am," Aanya admitted. "But also… confused."
"About phone guy or work guy?"
Aanya hesitated.
"…Both."
Maya sighed. "Be careful you're not projecting one onto the other."
Aanya swallowed. "I know."
She hoped.
That night, the texts resumed.
Unknown Number:
Did today get better?
Aanya:
A little.
We talked. Briefly.
Unknown Number:
And?
Aanya:
He surprised me.
Rohan smiled faintly.
Unknown Number:
In a good way?
Aanya:
Yeah.
Still guarded though.
Unknown Number:
Some doors open slowly.
She laughed quietly.
Aanya:
You're very patient with people.
Unknown Number:
Only from a distance.
That line stuck with her.
The following days settled into a strange rhythm.
Emails. Meetings. Elevator rides.
And texts.
Small moments accumulated.
Rohan holding the door when her hands were full.
Aanya forwarding a clarification before he asked.
Their eyes meeting for half a second longer than necessary.
Nothing dramatic.
Just… noticing.
One afternoon, she passed his desk and heard him laugh softly at something Arjun said.
It startled her.
He laughed?
The sound stayed with her longer than it should have.
That night—
Aanya:
I realized today that people are more than the version we see at work.
Unknown Number:
Yeah.
Aanya:
It's strange how easy it is to forget that.
Rohan stared at the screen.
Unknown Number:
Work edits people down.
Aanya smiled.
Aanya:
I like the unedited versions better.
He swallowed.
Unknown Number:
Me too.
On Friday evening, the revised layout went out.
The client approved it.
Vikram sent a brief "Good work, team."
Aanya leaned back in her chair, exhausted.
Rohan approached hesitantly. "The design worked well."
She looked up. "Thanks."
A pause.
"I should've said that earlier," he added.
Her chest warmed.
"It's okay," she said. "You said it now."
They stood there awkwardly until Neha loudly cleared her throat from across the room.
Both stepped back.
Later that night, Aanya typed slowly.
Aanya:
You were right.
Unknown Number:
About?
Aanya:
People hiding behind structure.
Rohan exhaled.
Unknown Number:
And?
Aanya:
I think I misjudged someone.
His heart thudded.
Unknown Number:
That happens.
She stared at the screen.
Aanya:
Doesn't mean I know him.
Unknown Number:
Knowing takes time.
She smiled, fingers hovering.
Aanya:
I'm starting to think time is underrated.
Unknown Number:
I've always thought so.
She set the phone aside, heart quiet but full.
Across the city, Rohan did the same.
Neither knew how close they were to the truth.
Only that something unspoken was growing —
in texts,
in glances,
in the space between words they hadn't said aloud.