Late night.
The office was nearly empty again.
Anika sat alone, finishing the last set of revisions. The soft glow of her laptop reflected in her tired eyes.
"Still working?"
She didn't need to look up.
"Deadline," she replied.
Arman Khurana walked in and stood beside her desk.
"Or escape?"
She paused.
"From what?"
"From me."
That made her look up.
Their eyes met.
Silence.
Heavy. Familiar.
Dangerous.
Anika closed her laptop slowly.
"You've been acting strange."
"I could say the same."
She stood up.
Now they were close again.
"Then say it."
Arman stepped closer.
"I don't like seeing you with someone else."
Her breath caught.
"You already said that."
"This time I mean it differently."
The air shifted.
Anika's voice softened—
"Then what do you mean?"
Arman looked at her.
For a long second.
Then—
"I—"
He stopped.
His jaw tightened.
Something held him back.
Always that control.
Anika waited.
But when he didn't continue—
She smiled faintly.
Almost disappointed.
"Exactly."
She stepped back.
"You don't even know what you feel."
That hit.
Hard.
Arman grabbed her wrist gently before she could walk away.
"Anika—"
She looked at him.
Their faces inches apart.
For a second—
It felt like he might finally say it.
Or do something.
But instead—
He let go.
Slowly.
"I don't," he admitted quietly.
Silence.
Anika nodded.
"Then figure it out."
She walked past him.
Leaving him standing there.
Alone.
Conflicted.
And for the first time—
Arman Khurana wasn't in control.