He stopped the car a little before her office gate, exactly where she preferred.
She unbuckled her seatbelt and looked at him with that soft expression she didn't even realize she had started reserving only for him.
"Bye… and thank you."
He tilted his head slightly, pretending formality. "Always at your service, ma'am."
She rolled her eyes, but the smile betrayed her. As she stepped out and closed the door, he watched her walk away — confident steps, light mood, sunlight catching in her hair.
He didn't leave until she disappeared inside.
Work felt easier that day.
Her emails were crisp, her presentations flawless, her energy unusually bright. Even the interns noticed.
One of them leaned against her desk. "Ma'am… you're glowing today. Something special?"
She kept her expression controlled. "Nothing special. Just happy."
"Why though?" another one teased. "Promotion? Secret admirer?"
She shook her head, smiling faintly. "Shrisha is here. She'll be staying with me for three weeks."
"Ohhh," they stretched dramatically. "Best friend?"
She nodded, softer this time. "Closest. She's been with me since childhood. She knows everything about me."
They exchanged looks but didn't push further.
If only they knew.
In the evening, Shrisha called.
"Dinner outside tonight. My treat. No excuses."
She laughed. "Okay, okay. Where?"
Before they could decide, her screen flashed again.
Arsh.
"Free tonight?" he asked casually, as if he hadn't already planned it.
"I am… but I was going out with Shrisha."
There was a second of silence.
"Can she join?" she added quickly.
His voice stayed easy. "Of course. 8 PM?"
"8 PM."
She reached home around seven.
Shrisha was already waiting, cross-legged on the couch, eyes sharp the moment she entered.
"So?" Shrisha asked.
"So what?"
"How was your day?" she narrowed her eyes. "And don't give me a corporate answer."
She tried to walk past her, but Shrisha caught her wrist and pulled her down beside her.
"Tell me properly."
She took a breath.
"Shrisha… I need to tell you something."
And then she did.
About Arsh. About the morning texts that made her heart race. About the way he teased her but never crossed a line. About how he looked at her like she was something fragile and strong at the same time.
Shrisha listened without interrupting.
When she finished, Shrisha leaned back and smiled softly.
"I'm happy for you."
Her eyes lit up instantly.
"But," Shrisha added carefully, "you've never really been in love before. So if you're stepping into this… step carefully."
She nodded slowly.
"If he ever hurts you," Shrisha continued, her voice half-serious now, "he won't like what happens next. I promise."
She laughed, nudging her shoulder. "Relax. He won't hurt me."
Shrisha held her gaze a second longer than necessary.
"Who else knows?"
"No one. Just you."
That answer seemed to matter more than she realized.
"By the way," she said casually, trying to lighten the mood, "he's joining us tonight."
Shrisha's eyebrow lifted. "Oh?"
"Don't start."
Shrisha smirked. "I'm just observing."
At exactly 8 PM, Arsh was downstairs.
On time.
He greeted Shrisha politely, calm and composed. No overconfidence. No awkwardness.
They went to a nearby restaurant, laughter filling the table as conversations flowed effortlessly. Arsh included Shrisha in everything, asked about childhood stories, teased her about embarrassing memories.
Shrisha watched carefully.
The way his eyes softened when he looked at her.
The way he noticed when she went quiet.
The way he subtly adjusted his chair closer without making it obvious.
By the end of dinner, Shrisha had to admit — he seemed genuine.
As they stepped outside, Shrisha crossed her arms and looked at him directly.
"You better take good care of my baby."
It sounded playful.
But it wasn't entirely a joke.
Arsh didn't hesitate.
"She's mine now," he said calmly, glancing at her with quiet certainty. "How could I ever hurt her?"
Her breath caught.
Shrisha noticed the way she blushed.
And for a brief second, something unreadable flickered in Shrisha's eyes.
Because sometimes…
The sweetest beginnings hide the most dangerous endings.