As the trio made their way back to their office floor, the familiar chime of a message lit up Maithili’s phone. She pulled it from her pocket with a flick of her wrist, her thumb automatically unlocking the screen. It was from Vinod.

Vinod Uncle: Hi Maithili, you’re meeting with Abhiram is scheduled at 7:00 PM today. The venue is “Zayra at Bandra. Elegant, quiet, and perfect for a conversation away from people. I’m also sharing his contact number below. Feel free to coordinate directly. All the best, beta. Don’t stress—just be yourself. And remember, we’re with you.

A second message followed, bearing Abhiram Sinha’s contact number. Just seeing his name pop up on her screen made something flutter—an unfamiliar tension that sat somewhere between her chest and her stomach.

For a moment, she just stared at it.
One soft tap, and poof—Abhiram Sinha was no longer a name on paper or a possibility mentioned over tea. He now lived in her contacts, right there between old college friends and work colleagues.

She took a long breath, locked the phone, “Got the place?” Shivam asked casually, glancing sideways as they reached their bay.

Maithili gave a small nod, her voice low. “Yeah. It’s at Zayra. In Bandra. I’m meeting him at seven.”

The moment the name Zayra left her lips, Aarthi let out a dramatic gasp, loud enough to turn a few heads from nearby desks.

“Zayra?! That Zayra?!” she squealed. “The one with the glass rooftop and gold cutlery? That place is like elegance married royalty!”

Before Maithili could react, Aarthi clapped her hands once with theatrical finality. “That’s it. Operation Mission Maithili is officially underway.”

“You heard me.” Aarthi looped her arm through Maithili’s and said we’re taking a half-day. You, my dear, need time to get ready.”

Maithili dug her heels in. “I don’t need a half-day! I’m not delivering a TED Talk. It’s just a meeting.”

“Exactly.” Aarthi’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “A meeting where your entire life might change. Do you really want to walk into Zayra looking like you’ve been fighting Excel sheets since morning?”

Maithili groaned, “I don’t need a makeover.”

“Not a makeover,” Aarthi corrected smoothly, “Just… enhancement. You already look amazing. We’re just turning the volume up a notch. And come on—you’re going to Zayra. You should look like you belong there.”

Maithili crossed her arms with a half-scowl. “Shouldn’t I be focusing on what to say, rather than picking between eyeliner shades and dupatta colors?”

From behind, Shivam chuckled, finally speaking after his long silence. “Maithili, you’ll know what to say when you see him.”

He paused, then added with a smirk, “And if you don’t… your eyes will probably do the talking.”

Maithili groaned again, “Please stop before I actually run in the opposite direction.”

But there was no denying it now—the countdown had officially begun.

And her story with Abhiram Sinha was about to unfold, one heartbeat at a time.
By the time the afternoon sun filtered softly through the blinds of their office, Maithili had officially lost the battle.

Despite her many protests and dramatic sighs, Aarthi and Shivam had declared war on her schedule—and won. All three of them signed out for a half-day, though Maithili swore she could have stayed back and handled things just fine. Neither of them was listening.

“I’m not going to the Oscars!” she argued as Aarthi practically dragged her into a high-end boutique in Khar.

“Exactly,” Aarthi said smugly, holding a rack of dresses like she was curating for a magazine shoot. “Which is why we need something better than your boring salwar sets. You're going to Zayra, Maithili. That place doesn’t just serve food—it serves vibes.”

Maithili rolled her eyes and muttered something about how they were being extra.

After trying—and rejecting—at least six outfits with gritted teeth and half-hearted twirls, she finally gave in when Aarthi handed her three dresses and said, “Try these. No excuses.”

Looking helplessly at Shivam, who was lounging on the boutique couch like he’d seen it all before, Maithili gave him her best glare. “Are you going to help me or just sit there looking smug?”

Shivam only grinned. “Come on, Maithili. You can do this. Just think of it as… dressing for destiny.”

“That’s not helpful.”

Still, with a sigh she slipped into the trial room.

When she stepped out, dressed in a soft pastel Kurti paired with elegant palazzos. Aarthi clapped like she’d just unveiled a masterpiece.

“Perfect,” she declared. “Elegant, effortless, and just the right amount of date energy.”

Maithili raised a brow. “It’s not a date.”

“Yet,” Aarthi said with a wink.

They grabbed a quick lunch afterward, mostly to keep Maithili from escaping, and after a bit more teasing, they walked her to the parking lot.

“Go home. Rest for a bit. Start getting ready by five, and leave by six,” Aarthi instructed, like a general dispatching her soldier. “And no last-minute panic attacks, okay?”

Maithili squinted at her. “Yes, madam. Anything else, commander-in-chief?”

She turned to Shivam, shaking her head in mock disbelief. “You’re sure about this whole lifetime commitment thing with her?”

Shivam laughed. “Completely. She’s stubborn, yeah. But that’s my girl. And that’s exactly why I love her.”

Maithili groaned. “Ugh. You two are ridiculous. Made for each other, clearly. And you’re giving me a headache.”

“We aim to please,” Aarthi grinned.

As Maithili opened her car door, Aarthi leaned in and whispered, “I want every detail after the meeting. Don’t you dare ghost me.”

Maithili chuckled, heart light despite the nerves beginning to form under her skin. “Fine. I’ll call. Or text. Or maybe just send an emoji if I survive.”

“You better,” Aarthi winked.

And with that, Maithili was off heading toward the biggest conversation of her life.

Meanwhile, Abhiram sat in his office, fingers flying across the keyboard, his mind deeply immersed in a stack of reports when his phone buzzed beside him. He glanced at the screen.

Papa.

He straightened slightly in his chair before answering. “Hello, Papa.”

Rajesh Sinha’s voice came clear and direct. “Abhi, meet Maithili at Zayra today. Seven o'clock. I’ll send you her contact—coordinate with her directly.”

Abhiram blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Zayra?”

“Yes, yes,” Rajesh said quickly. “You’ll have privacy there. It’s quiet, away from unnecessary attention. A good place to talk. Just the two of you.”

Abhiram let out a low sigh, rubbing his forehead. “Alright,” he muttered. “I’ll handle it.”

He had barely ended the call when his cabin door swung open.

Vikrant stepped in, that familiar sly smile already tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Abhiram arched a brow. “Let me guess… Zayra was your idea?”

Vikrant shrugged, not even attempting to hide the smugness in his tone. “I just want the best for you. Spoke to bhabhi too—she agreed. You’ll have all the privacy you need tonight.”

Abhiram leaned back, folding his arms. “I could’ve picked a place myself.”

“Oh, come on,” Vikrant rolled his eyes. “If left to your own devices, you’d probably have chosen a conference room. Or worse—booked a time slot in your boardroom.”

Abhiram smirked despite himself, but before he could fire back, his phone buzzed again.

He glanced down.

A new message from Papa. Attached was a contact card.

Maithili Kulkarni.

Abhiram paused for a second, staring at the name glowing softly on the screen. Then, with a quiet click, he saved it.

And just like that, it all felt more real. The woman with whom his life might—or might not—intertwine was no longer just a name floating in family conversations. She was a presence in his phone, in his thoughts.

Vikrant watched him carefully. “Got the number?”

Abhiram gave a small nod.

“So…” Vikrant leaned against the wall, folding his arms. “Are you ready?”

Abhiram exhaled, his fingers tapping thoughtfully on the armrest. “I’ve handled acquisitions and billion-dollar deals with less anxiety.”

Vikrant’s expression softened. “That’s because this one’s different. This isn’t a deal, Abhi. Go talk to her. Don’t turn it into a boardroom pitch. Be real. Be you.”

Abhiram cracked a reluctant smile. “When did you get so wise?”

Vikrant grinned. “Comes with being your only friend… and unofficial therapist.”

A glance at the clock made Vikrant straighten. “It’s already five and you know Mumbai traffic. Start early.”

Abhiram nodded.

Once Vikrant left, he picked up his phone again and called home. The line rang once before Amrutha picked up.

“Abhi?”

“Ma… what’s Myra doing?”

 “She’s in her nursery playing with her puzzles.” Amrutha replied warmly.

“Can you give her the phone?” he asked.

There was a shuffle, and a second later, a tiny voice came on.

“Hello, Papa?”

A slow smile spread across Abhiram’s face as he heard her voice.

“Hi, sweetheart. How was your day?” he asked, his tone softening instinctively.

“It was nice,” Myra said with the kind of breathless excitement, “I did drawing and I made a flower! When you come home, I will show you. And today, we’re going for ice cream!”

“Not tonight, baby,” he said gently. “Papa has an exam, so I might be home late.”

There was a small pause on the other end.

“…You have an exam?” Myra asked in disbelief. “Papa, I didn’t know big people had exams too!”

He let out a low chuckle. “They do sometimes, princess. Grown-up exams are just a little… different.”

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “Then… have you prepared well, Papa?”

Abhiram leaned back in his chair, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I have, baby. I just need to see the question paper now.”

“All the best, Papa!” she said with a bright certainty that could melt mountains. “You will do great! Don’t worry.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the confidence in her voice. “Thank you, baby. But don’t wait for me, okay? Have dinner early. Be good to Dada and Dadi. And no jumping on the bed.”

“Okay okay okay, Papa!” she sang cheerfully, and then, as if remembering something urgent, added, “Love you, Papa. Bye!”

Before he could respond, the call clicked off.

Abhiram stared at the screen for a long second, the ghost of her giggle still echoing in his ears.

He let out a long breath and smiled to himself, pocketing his phone.

Whatever this evening brought, he would walk into it carrying the strength of that one sentence—
You will do great, Papa.

And somehow, he believed it.

Back home, Maithili stood in front of her bedroom mirror, staring at her reflection like it held all the answers she hadn’t yet dared to ask.

The room was still—quiet. Her dupatta shifted lightly over her shoulder as she adjusted it for what felt like the third time, the silver embroidery catching the light in soft glimmers.

The pastel pink kurti, paired with a palazzo and matching dupatta, was not her usual go-to—but it wasn’t overwhelming either. Aarthi had chosen it with ruthless precision, declaring it the perfect mix of “subtle charm and soft confidence.” Maithili had relented, mostly because arguing with Aarthi was like arguing with a cyclone.

Her regular, small stud earrings peeked out from beneath her gently tousled hair, which she had left loose. No elaborate styling. No statement Jewellery. Just her.

Her makeup was minimal—barely-there foundation, a soft stroke of kajal, and a faint tint of rose on her lips. But something about the way it all came together made her pause.

She looked… different.

Not because she appeared drastically altered, but because she felt different.

She gave herself a quiet nod in the mirror, her voice just above a whisper.

“Okay, Maithili. You can do this.”

As if on cue, there was a gentle knock. “Maithili?”

She turned, seeing her mother standing by the door “You look beautiful,” Sushma said, stepping inside. “All the best, beta. And listen… whatever decision you make—yes or no—just know that I’m with you. Always. You don’t have to do anything against your wishes.”

That broke through Maithili’s practiced calm.

She moved toward her mother and hugged her tightly, the gesture grounding her in a way that no mirror pep-talk ever could.

“I know, Ma,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

A few minutes later, she bid goodbye, stepping out into the early evening. Her fingers curled around the steering wheel, familiar and steady.

The drive to Bandra was slow—the Mumbai traffic thick with its usual impatience—but somehow, Maithili didn’t mind. It gave her time to think… and to breathe.

By the time she reached Zayra, it was 7:10 PM.

She stepped out of her car and looked up at the tall glass façade, trimmed in golden lights that glowed softly in the dusk. The name was discreetly etched near the entrance, like a secret whispered only to those meant to hear it.

Zayra.

Elegant. Refined. Tucked away in one of the city’s most exclusive corners, yet intimate enough to feel like it existed outside of time.

Her heels clicked gently on the pavement as she walked toward the entrance, her heart steady but her palms unmistakably damp.

Somewhere inside that building was Abhiram Sinha.

She inhaled once deep and measured.

And then, pushing open the door, she stepped inside.