The price didn't arrive all at once.
It came in fragments.
An email marked confidential.
A meeting rescheduled without explanation.
A glance held for half a second too long.
Aarvi felt it before she understood it.
---
The shift in the office
People were careful around her now.
Not cruel.
Not openly hostile.
Just… cautious.
Conversations lowered when she passed.
Decisions took longer to reach her desk.
A few colleagues stopped asking for help they once relied on.
She didn't complain.
She had survived worse.
But this felt different —
because this time, the cost wasn't hers alone.
---
Riyan felt the pressure too
The board didn't confront him directly again.
They didn't need to.
He was excluded from informal discussions.
Decisions he usually made alone now required consensus.
A quiet reminder that power could be negotiated — even challenged.
Riyan noticed.
And he accepted it.
Because stepping back now would undo everything he'd said.
---
Aarvi confronted him — not angrily, but honestly
That evening, she stood in his office doorway.
"Are they punishing you?" she asked quietly.
Riyan looked up from his desk.
"No," he said calmly.
"They're testing boundaries."
"For choosing me?" she asked.
"For choosing clarity," he corrected.
She stepped inside, closing the door gently.
"I never wanted to be a complication."
He stood slowly.
"You're not," he said.
"The situation is."
She swallowed.
"If this costs you more than you expected—"
He cut her off gently.
"Don't finish that sentence."
She looked up, startled.
"I won't undo my choices because they're uncomfortable," he said.
"And I won't let you believe your existence is a problem."
Her eyes burned.
---
The cost became personal
Later that night, alone in her room, Aarvi stared at her phone.
A message from HR blinked on the screen:
We'd like to review your role and reporting structure.
Her heart sank.
This was it.
The reshuffling.
The quiet displacement.
She closed her eyes, breathing slowly.
---
Riyan didn't hide this time
She told him the next morning.
He didn't hesitate.
Didn't deflect.
Didn't soften it with empty reassurance.
"Thank you for telling me," he said.
"And no — you won't face this alone."
"I don't want protection," she said quickly.
"I want fairness."
He nodded.
"And that's exactly what you'll get."
---
The truth they both accepted
Staying didn't mean things would be easy.
It meant they would be visible.
Questioned.
Tested.
But it also meant something else —
They weren't pretending anymore.
They weren't hiding behind silence.
They were choosing to face consequences instead of running from them.
---
A quiet understanding
As Aarvi left his office, she paused.
"Riyan?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you… for not making me disappear to make things easier."
He held her gaze.
"I spent years doing that to people," he said quietly.
"I'm done."
She nodded and walked out.
And for the first time, even with everything uncertain, Aarvi felt something she hadn't expected:
The price of staying was high —
but it was finally shared.