It was past midnight.
The office lights were dimmed, most floors completely empty.
Only one section was still alive—
The design department.
Anika sat at her desk, surrounded by files and blueprints.
She was working fast.
Almost aggressively.
Like she was trying to outrun something.
Or forget something.
"Still here?"
Her hand paused.
She didn't look up.
"You should go home."
A quiet pause.
Then—
"So should you."
Arman Khurana walked in.
No suit jacket this time.
Sleeves rolled up.
Tie gone.
Less CEO.
More… him.
He stopped beside her desk.
"You're overworking."
"I'm working."
"There's a difference."
She finally looked at him.
"And you're the one telling me that?"
A faint smirk.
"Fair."
Silence.
But not calm.
Not like before.
This silence was different.
Heavier.
Charged.
Anika stood up suddenly.
"I need a break."
She walked toward the conference room.
Glass walls.
City lights outside.
Dark sky.
Quiet.
A few seconds later—
He followed.
Of course he did.
She stood near the glass, arms crossed.
Not looking at him.
"You keep doing that."
"What?"
"Following me."
A pause.
"Maybe I don't want you to walk away."
That made her turn.
Their eyes met.
And instantly—
That same tension returned.
Stronger.
More dangerous.
"Why?" she asked.
His answer came without hesitation.
"Because every time you walk away…"
A step closer.
"…you take the conversation with you."
Her breath slowed.
"Maybe the conversation should end."
"Doesn't feel like it should."
Another step.
Closer.
Now the space between them—
Almost gone.
Anika's voice dropped.
"You keep saying things… and then you pull back."
"And you keep asking questions you're not ready for."
"That's not fair."
"Neither is this."
Silence.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
The rain started again outside.
Soft at first.
Then louder.
Filling the quiet.
Arman's voice came lower now—
"What do you want, Anika?"
The question hit deep.
Because she didn't have a simple answer.
"I don't know," she admitted softly.
"Then stop pretending you don't feel anything."
Her eyes lifted to his.
"I never said that."
"Then say what you feel."
There it was again.
That demand.
That push.
Her heart raced.
"This isn't simple."
"I didn't say it was."
"You're my boss."
"And you're still standing this close to me."
That shut her up.
Because he was right.
She didn't step back.
Neither did he.
Their faces inches apart.
Breathing uneven.
The air thick.
Anika whispered—
"This is wrong."
"Then move."
She didn't.
Another second.
Another heartbeat.
Arman's hand lifted slightly—
Stopped.
Like he was fighting himself.
"Last chance," he said quietly.
"To what?"
"To walk away."
She looked at him.
Steady.
Unmoving.
"I don't want to."
That was it.
The final line crossed.
The distance between them disappeared.
Not rushed.
Not careless.
But inevitable.
And just before everything could change—
A loud knock echoed on the glass door.
Both of them stepped back instantly.
Reality crashing in.
"Sir?" Meera's voice from outside.
"Urgent client call."
The moment broke.
Again.
Anika turned away quickly.
Trying to steady herself.
Arman ran a hand through his hair.
Frustration clear.
"Work," she said quietly.
"Yeah."
But as they walked out—
One thing was certain.
They were done pretending.
And next time—
There would be no interruption.