Aarvi tried her best to stay invisible that day.
She worked quietly, kept her head down, and avoided unnecessary movement. After the hug, after the silence that followed, she felt like every emotion inside her was sitting too close to the surface.
And on top of that… life refused to pause.
Her phone buzzed again.
Hospital: Please visit today. Test results need discussion.
Her chest tightened.
She turned the screen face-down, swallowing hard. She couldn't break down here. Not at work. Not where he could see.
But Riyan noticed.
He always did.
From inside his office, he saw the moment her shoulders stiffened, the moment her fingers trembled before she forced herself to type again. The quiet struggle written all over her face made something twist painfully inside him.
He stood up without thinking.
---
He called her in — and didn't pretend this time
"Aarvi," his voice came through the intercom, low and firm, "come to my office."
She hesitated for half a second… then obeyed.
When she stepped inside, he closed the door behind her himself.
"What happened?" he asked immediately.
She blinked, startled.
"Nothing, sir."
He didn't raise his voice.
He didn't get angry.
He just looked at her — really looked — and said quietly,
"Don't lie to me."
Her breath caught.
"You've been holding your phone like it might explode," he continued. "You've barely eaten. And your eyes… they're not okay."
Aarvi pressed her lips together, trying to keep her emotions in check.
"It's just… hospital stuff," she whispered.
That was all it took.
The word hospital shattered the last bit of control he had left.
---
He stepped closer, forgetting his position
"What kind of hospital stuff?" he asked, voice tight.
She shook her head. "Please don't ask me more."
Riyan exhaled slowly, frustration and worry tangled in his chest.
"You don't get to carry everything alone," he said quietly. "Not anymore."
She looked up at him, eyes glossy.
"I don't want to be dependent on you."
"I'm not offering dependence," he replied.
"I'm offering support."
Her lips trembled.
"No one ever says that without expecting something in return."
His expression softened painfully.
"I'm not 'no one,' Aarvi."
The room fell silent.
She didn't argue.
She couldn't.
---
The breaking point
Her phone buzzed again.
This time, she didn't hide it.
Riyan saw the message.
Saw the urgency.
His jaw tightened.
"Get your bag," he said suddenly.
She looked up, shocked.
"Sir?"
"I'm taking you to the hospital."
Her heart raced.
"No, you can't—"
"I can," he interrupted gently. "And I will."
"This isn't appropriate—"
"I don't care about appropriate right now," he said, voice firm but controlled. "I care about you."
The honesty in his tone made her chest ache.
"Riyan," she whispered, scared, overwhelmed, "please don't make this harder."
He stepped closer, eyes steady, voice low.
"Watching you suffer in silence is harder."
---
A line crossed — because he couldn't help it
He picked up his coat.
"I'll clear my schedule," he said. "We're leaving."
Aarvi stared at him, heart pounding.
She should say no.
She should push him away.
She should protect her independence.
But she was tired.
So tired.
And when he gently placed a hand on her shoulder — not possessive, not demanding — just grounding…
She didn't pull away.
"Just this once," she whispered.
Riyan nodded.
"Just this once," he promised.
But deep down, both of them knew —
It would never be just once.