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…

Ruhi woke up with a pounding headache and a vague sense that something was very, very wrong.

She blinked slowly, her vision blurry. The ceiling above her wasn't familiar. The sheets beneath her weren't hers. The scent in the air, something masculine, something like sandalwood and coffee was definitely not her room.

She sat up abruptly, her head spinning.

And then she realized.

Oh god.

She was in Riaan's bed.

Ruhi's eyes went wide. She looked down at herself, still in the black bodycon dress from last night, still wearing her heels. The memories came flooding back in fragments. The reception. The wine. The taxi.

The kiss.

Oh god, oh god, oh god.

She scrambled off the bed, her heart hammering. She barged out of the room, desperate to escape and froze.

Riaan was asleep on her bed.

His blanket was tangled around his waist, his bare chest rising and falling with each steady breath. His hair was a mess, his lips slightly parted, and he looked utterly peaceful. Utterly beautiful.

Ruhi stared at him, her mouth half-open.

Does this man always like to stay around half-naked!?

She should leave. She should wake him up. She should do something other than stand here like an idiot, watching him sleep.

But she didn't.

She walked closer, slowly, and knelt beside the bed. She kept her hands on the mattress, resting her chin on them, and just... watched.

His face was softer in sleep. No tension, no guarded expressions. Just him. Just Riaan.

She muttered under her breath, "You're so cute."

He stirred.

Ruhi's eyes widened. His eyelids fluttered, and she panicked. She shot up, sprinted across the room, and slammed the bathroom door shut behind her.

She leaned against the door, her heart pounding, her cheeks burning.

Did he see me? Did he wake up? What the hell is wrong with me?

She looked at herself in the mirror. Her lipstick was smeared, her hair was a disaster, and her face was the colour of a tomato.

Shit!!

⁞⁞⁞⁞

Riaan woke up slowly, the morning light filtering through the curtains. His head was heavy, his body still tired from the night.

He sat up, running a hand through his disheveled hair. His shirt was still unbuttoned, his chest bare. He'd crashed on Ruhi's bed last night. Because where else was he supposed to sleep when she was asleep in his bed.

He looked around the room. Empty.

She was already up.

He got dressed quickly, splashed water on his face, and walked out to the main hall. She was there, sitting at the small dining table, a plate of breakfast in front of her. She was wearing a simple oversized t-shirt and shorts, her hair in a messy bun, her face freshly washed.

Riaan sat beside her, reaching for his portion of breakfast. He didn't say anything, just started eating.

She turned to him, her expression determined. "See, Riaan."

He glanced at her, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "I'm seeing."

She sighed, clearly frustrated. "Uhh... What happened last night was completely our drunken mistake."

He set down his fork, turning to face her fully. "You were drunk. I wasn't."

Her jaw tightened. "F-fine! My drunken mistake! Okay? Forget it like it never happened. Erase it from your memory."

Riaan studied her for a long moment. The way she was avoiding his eyes. The way her hands were trembling slightly. The way she was trying so hard to pretend last night meant nothing.

"Hmm," he said finally. "I'll try."

She sulked, stabbing at her food with unnecessary force.

He almost smiled. Almost. But he couldn't. Not when every fiber of his being was still burning with the memory of her lips on his.

They ate in silence.

The office of Rohan Sharma was sleek and modern, all glass and steel. Ruhi's energy returned as they walked in, her professional demeanor firmly in place.

The designer himself met them, a tall, broad man in his forties with a warm smile. "Ms. Misra! Dr. Talwar! So glad you could make it. I apologize for the delay yesterday. Family emergency."

Ruhi smiled, gracious despite everything. "It's completely fine, sir. We understand."

They sat down to discuss the plans, and Ruhi launched into her vision. Her hands moved animatedly as she described the themes, the colour schemes, the layout. The ground floor for the elders. The upper floor for the children. The garden with swings and slides. The library corner.

Riaan added details where needed, structural integrity, budget allocation, accessibility for the elderly. They worked together seamlessly, finishing each other's sentences, anticipating each other's needs.

Rohan Sharma nodded approvingly. "You two make a great team."

Ruhi's smile faltered slightly. Riaan said nothing.

They finalized the project, and Rohan stood to shake their hands. "I'll have the first draft ready in two weeks. Ms. Misra, I'll email you the initial renderings."

"Thank you, sir," Ruhi said, her voice warm. "I can't wait to see them."

She walked outside, leaving Riaan to discuss the finances. He paid the advance without hesitation, his Nani's words echoing in his head. "Take care of everything, beta. Make sure the children also get the best."

They finalized the details, and Rohan shook their hands. Ruhi walked out first, heading toward the central waiting area. Riaan stayed behind to discuss the financials, paying the advance and signing the paperwork.

Ruhi walked outside, a small smile on her face. The meeting went well. The project was finally moving forward.

She sat on the central couch in the reception area, picking up a magazine to pass the time. She flipped through the pages absently, her mind still on the meeting, on the renovation, on everything that needed to be done.

Then she decided to use the washroom.

She walked into the small restroom, locked the door behind her, and was washing her hands when she heard a click.

She tried the door. It wouldn't open.

She tried again, harder. Nothing. "Hello?" She knocked on the door. "Is someone there?"

Silence.

She knocked harder, panic beginning to creep into her voice. "HELP! HELP! IS ANYONE THERE?"

Nothing.

And then the lights went out. Complete, suffocating darkness.

Ruhi's breath caught in her throat. Her heart started hammering. The walls felt like they were closing in on her, the darkness pressing against her from all sides.

No, no, no, not again.

Her claustrophobia kicked in like a tidal wave. She couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. The air was gone, the space was shrinking, and she was trapped.

She started panting, her hands flying to the door, banging against it. "HELP ME! PLEASE!SOMEONE!"

Her phone. Where was her phone? She patted her pockets desperately.

Empty. She'd left it in her purse. Outside. On the couch. She was trapped. Alone. In the dark

Outside. Riaan finally walked out, he found Ruhi's purse on the couch, but she was nowhere in sight.

He frowned, looking around. "Where's Ms. Misra?"

The receptionist looked up. "Sir, ma'am went to the washroom."

"Oh, alright." Riaan nodded, settling onto the couch. He picked up his phone, scrolling through messages, waiting.

Five minutes passed.

Ten.

Fifteen.

His leg started bouncing.

She was taking too long. Something felt off. He tried to ignore it, rationalizing that women took longer in the washroom sometimes. But the uneasy feeling in his gut wouldn't go away.

He walked back to the receptionist, his voice tight. "Uh... Excuse me. She's been in there for a long time now. Can you check on her once?"

The receptionist's smile faltered slightly. "Sure, sir."

She walked toward the washroom, and Riaan waited, his heart beginning to pound.

A few minutes later, the receptionist rushed out, her face pale. She immediately ran toward the security guard, shouting in rapid Marathi.

Riaan didn't wait. He sprinted toward the washroom, the security guard following close behind.

The lights were off. The corridor was dark.

Inside the washroom, a young woman, a stranger lay unconscious on the ground, her face pale and lifeless. Riaan's doctor instincts kicked in instantly. He knelt beside her, checking her pulse. Alive. Unconscious, but alive.

And then he heard it.

A faint, broken whisper.

"Help me... please..."

It was her.

Ruhi.

Her voice was so tired, so fragile, that something inside Riaan snapped. He followed the sound to a door on the side, he realized. The door was locked from the outside with a sliding bolt.

His blood turned to ice.

Someone had deliberately trapped her in there. He wrenched the lock open, his fingers shaking, and threw the door wide.

And then he froze.

Ruhi was crouched on the floor of the small, dark restroom, her knees drawn to her chest. She was sweating profusely, her face tear-streaked, her entire body trembling violently. Her breath was coming in ragged gasps, and her eyes were wide with terror.

The moment she saw him, she wiped her tears abruptly, her composure slamming back into place like a shield.

"L-Lets go." Her voice was barely a whisper.

That was it. Nothing else. No explanation. No breakdown. Just a desperate need to escape.

Riaan stared at her, his heart shattering. "Ruhi—"

"Let's go." She stood up on shaky legs, pushing past him. "Now."

He followed her out, his eyes fixed on her trembling form. The security team was dealing with the unconscious woman, but Riaan barely registered any of it. All he could see was Ruhi, the way she was walking so fast, so desperately, like she was running from something. The way she was holding herself together by the thinnest of threads.

She got into the taxi without a word. Riaan sat beside her, close enough to feel her shaking. She was staring straight ahead, her jaw clenched, her hands gripping her purse so tightly her knuckles were white.

She was trying so hard not to fall apart.

Not to cry.

Not to show that she was scared to death.

Riaan wanted to reach for her. But he didn't know if she'd let him. So he just sat there, watching her, his heart aching for her.

They reached the hotel. Ruhi practically sprinted inside, her heels clicking furiously against the marble floor. She walked into her bedroom and slammed the door shut behind her.

Riaan stood in the hallway, his fist clenched at his side.

She's crying.

The thought echoed through his mind like a siren. He could hear it through the door, the muffled, desperate sobs she was trying so hard to contain. The same sound he'd heard in that hospital locker room. The same sound that had burrowed under his skin and refused to leave.

She's definitely breaking right now.

He leaned his forehead against the door, his eyes squeezed shut. His body was trembling with the effort of holding himself back. Every instinct screamed at him to go to her. To hold her. To make it stop. But another part of him, the part that had learned to keep people at arm's length whispered that he had no right. That she didn't want him to see her like this. That she'd push him away just like she'd pushed everyone else.

No. No. I can't.

But he couldn't just leave her alone. Not like this. Not when she was falling apart.

He turned the handle and pushed the door open.

Ruhi froze.

She was on the bed, her knees clutched so tightly to her chest that her knuckles were white. Her entire body was shaking violent, uncontrollable tremors that made her look like a leaf caught in a storm. Her face was buried in her knees, but he could hear the broken, ragged gasps that escaped despite her efforts to muffle them.

The moment she sensed his presence, her body went rigid. She turned her face away, pressing it into her knees, her shoulders hunching as if she could make herself disappear. As if she could hide the wreckage of her composure from him.

She's trying to pretend she's fine, he realized. Even now. Even like this.

But she wasn't fine.

Riaan walked toward her slowly, his heart splintering with every step. His footsteps were soft, deliberate, like he was approaching a wounded animal that might bolt at any moment. He didn't say anything. He didn't need to. Words would have been useless right now.

He sat on the edge of the bed, close enough to feel the heat radiating from her trembling body. And then he opened his arms.

It was an invitation. Not a demand. Not a presumption. Just an offering.

She looked at him through tear-blurred eyes, her expression caught between fear and desperation. For a moment, she didn't move as if she was waiting for him to take it back, to change his mind, to prove that she couldn't trust this.

He held her gaze. Steady. Patient. Unmoving.

And then she crashed into him.

She hit his chest with such force that he had to brace himself against the bed frame. Her fingers clawed at his shirt, twisting the fabric in her fists like she was anchoring herself to him. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, and the sobs that tore out of her were raw, ragged, primal, the kind of cries that came from somewhere so deep inside her that they seemed to shake her very bones.

"I-I was scared!" she choked out, her voice muffled against his skin, wet and broken. "It was—it was so suffocating and—I couldn't—I couldn't breathe!"

His arms came around her, pulling her into his lap, cradling her against his chest. He could feel every tremor, every shudder, every violent gasp for air. Her body was so small against his, so fragile, so utterly undone.

He pressed his cheek against the top of her head, his hand finding its way into her hair. His fingers moved in slow, soothing circles, stroking the tangled strands, trying to ground her with touch alone.

"Shhhh..." His voice was barely a whisper, but he poured every ounce of gentleness he possessed into it. "It's okay. Relax. You're safe now. You're not trapped anymore. You're here. I've got you."

She was in his lap now, curled into him like a child seeking comfort. Her entire body was pressed against his, her knees digging into his thighs, her face buried in his neck, her hands still clutching his shirt like he was the only thing keeping her from drowning.

He stroked her hair. Rubbed her back in slow, steady circles. Murmured reassurances against her temple, words that didn't matter, that were just sounds of safety, of presence, of I'm here, I'm not going anywhere.

Her sobs began to quiet, but her body was still shaking. He could feel her heartbeat against his own, rapid, frantic, slowly beginning to steady with each passing second.

Riaan's heart didn't race this time.

Because she was trusting him. Fully. Completely. Without walls, without masks, without the careful composure she'd worn like armor since the moment he'd met her. She was showing him the broken pieces of herself, and she wasn't trying to hide them.

And in this moment, that was enough. That was everything.

He held her for a long time.

Minutes, maybe hours. He didn't check his watch. Didn't count the seconds. He just let himself exist in this space with her, his arms around her, her weight against his chest, her breath slowly evening out against his neck.

Her crying eventually subsided into shaky, hiccuping breaths. She pulled back slightly not all the way, just enough to look at him. Her face was blotchy and swollen, her eyes rimmed with red, her lips chapped from crying. Her mascara had smeared down her cheeks, and her hair was a tangled mess.

She looked absolutely destroyed.

And Riaan had never seen anything more beautiful.

Because this? this was real. This was her. Not the composed woman who smiled through her grief. Not the guarded girl who called him a creep. Not the pianist who performed for thousands of people like she didn't have a care in the world.

This was Ruhi. Broken. Vulnerable. Raw.

And she was letting him see it.

He reached out slowly, his fingers trembling slightly as they brushed a few strands of wet hair away from her face. The touch was featherlight, almost hesitant, like he was afraid she might shatter if he pressed too hard.

His thumb traced the path of a tear down her cheek, wiping away the lingering moisture. The skin beneath his touch was hot, swollen, impossibly soft. She flinched slightly not from pain, but from the shock of being touched so gently.

She'd been touched roughly before. By grief. By loss. By the world. But never like this. Never with this kind of tenderness.

"Ruhi." His voice was low, intimate barely a whisper. "You don't need to hide. You don't need to pretend you're fine when you're not."

She blinked, her breath catching.

"If you want to fall apart..." He paused, his thumb still resting against her cheek. "Fall apart. I'll be right here. I'll hold you as long as you need."

Her breath hitched.

For the first time in her life, she just stared at him. Her lips parted slightly, her eyes searching his face like she was trying to understand something she'd never experienced before. Something she didn't have words for.

No one had ever said that to her.

She'd spent her entire life being strong, for her sister, for the orphanage when she took over, for everyone who leaned on her. She'd never had someone who told her it was okay to break. She'd never had someone who offered to hold the pieces while she fell apart.

Her eyes glistened, not with tears of fear or pain, but with something else. Something she couldn't name.

Something that felt dangerously close to hope.

Her voice was barely a breath, so soft he almost missed it. "Aan..."

He didn't move. Didn't speak. Just held her gaze, his thumb still resting against her cheek, his other hand still splayed across her back.

And in that moment, something shifted between them. Something fundamental. Something irreversible.

The walls she'd built around herself, the careful, meticulously constructed walls that had kept everyone out for years began to crack.

And Riaan was there to catch her when they fell.

His arms tightened around her, pulling her back into his chest. She went willingly this time, melting into him like she'd been waiting her whole life for someone to hold her like this.

They stayed like that as the minutes passed. The sobs didn't return, but the tears still came quiet, gentle, like a slow release of everything she'd been holding in for so long.

And Riaan held her through all of it.

"112," he murmured. "Maybe 113."

She blinked, confused. "What?"

"Your heartbeat." His smile widened. "It's a little fast, don't you think?"

She looked away immediately, her cheeks flushing bright red. Of course. Of course a cardiologist would notice her heartbeat.

But she didn't move away. She stayed in his arms, her head resting against his chest, her breathing slowly evening out.

And then his phone rang.

Riaan pulled it out, glancing at the screen. He answered, his expression shifting from soft to cold in a matter of seconds. He listened, said "Hmm," and ended the call.

When he looked at Ruhi, his eyes were hard. "We're leaving this place. Now."

She frowned. "What? Why? What happened?"

But he was already walking out of the room, his jaw clenched, his fists tight at his sides.

Ruhi watched him go, her heart pounding with a different kind of fear now.

What happened? And why does he look so... angry?

…

In his lap... omg!!

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