Morning came quietly.
Not with panic.
Not with confusion.
But with a strange, unfamiliar calm.
Aarvi woke before her alarm, staring at the soft light slipping through the curtains. For a moment, she forgot everything — the rumors, the distance, the ache.
Then she remembered.
Riyan at her door.
His apology.
The way he held her — not desperately, not possessively — but like he was choosing to stay.
Her chest tightened.
It hadn't been dramatic.
It hadn't been reckless.
It had been honest.
---
Riyan left before dawn
He hadn't stayed long.
He hadn't crossed any lines.
After the hug, after the quiet settled, he had stepped back first.
"You should rest," he had said softly.
"And I should leave before this becomes something you regret."
She hadn't stopped him.
But when he reached the door, he paused.
"Aarvi," he said without turning, "I meant what I said. I won't disappear again."
She nodded.
"I believe you."
That was all.
No promises.
No labels.
Just trust — fragile, new, terrifying.
---
At the office, everything felt exposed
Aarvi walked in with steady steps, her head held a little higher than before.
She wasn't naïve.
She knew people still whispered.
But something inside her had shifted.
She wasn't alone anymore.
Across the floor, Riyan entered moments later.
This time, he didn't avoid her.
He didn't stare either.
He simply acknowledged her — a quiet nod, brief eye contact, respect intact.
It was subtle.
But it was everything.
---
He didn't hide her — and he didn't claim her
During the morning meeting, Riyan asked for Aarvi's input directly.
No softness.
No favoritism.
Just trust.
"And Miss Sharma," he added calmly, "handle the follow-up with legal. I trust your judgment."
A few heads turned.
Aarvi met his gaze and nodded.
"Yes, sir."
Her voice didn't shake.
Riyan noticed.
And something in his chest loosened.
---
Later, alone — but not distant
He called her into his office just before lunch.
This time, the door stayed open.
Professional.
Transparent.
"Aarvi," he said, leaning against the desk, "about last night—"
She raised a hand gently.
"You don't need to explain."
He studied her.
"You're not uncomfortable?"
"I was," she admitted.
"But I'm not anymore."
That honesty mattered more than reassurance.
"I won't put you in a position where you feel exposed again," he said.
"And I won't step back without asking you first."
She nodded slowly.
"That's all I needed."
---
A new balance — fragile, but real
When she left his office, Aarvi felt something unfamiliar settle into her chest.
Not excitement.
Not fear.
Stability.
They hadn't solved everything.
They hadn't defined anything.
But they had chosen something important:
Communication over control.
Presence over distance.
Respect over fear.
And Riyan Malhotra realized something quietly, without panic for once—
Choosing her didn't mean losing himself.
It meant becoming someone better than the man who hid behind walls.