Chapter 2

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊|• 0:10ִֶָ

दिल करता है तेरी बाते सुनु
सोचे नया धुरे चुनु मुफ्त का हुआ ये फायदा
क्यों खुद को मैं बरबाद करु
फ़ना होके तुझसे मिलु इश्क का अजब है तायदा
तेरी राहो से जो गुजरी है मेरी डगर
मैं भी आगे बढ़ गया हु होके थोड़ा बेफिकर
कहो तो किस्से मर्जी लू कहो तो किसको अर्जी दू हस्ता
अब थोड़ा फर्जी हूं ये तूने क्या किया

•.¸¸♪•¨*•.¸¸♬

Saloni's Pov

The conference room in the firm was abuzz with chatter as colleagues mingled over lunch. Riya, a colleague from our batch, stood up, a stack of wedding invitations in her hand. "Hey everyone, I'm getting married next month and I'd love for you all to come!" She began handing out the invitations, her eyes scanning the room as she approached me

When she handed me the invitation, her smile turned slightly condescending. "Saloni, I'm so glad I could invite you. I know you're working hard on the audit reports." Her tone implied that she was doing me a favor by inviting me.

I took the invitation, my expression neutral. "Thanks for inviting me, Riya."

That's when it started — the little jab that felt less like a question and more like a weapon.

"So, Saloni... how's life? Career's good, I hear. But what about outside work? You're 27 and still single. Don't you think it's time you settled down?" Rita's eyes sparkled with malice.

I blinked, raising an eyebrow. Why does everyone suddenly care about my personal life? Especially people who don't even know me?

I replied, my patience wearing thin. "What's the rush, Riya? I'm good. I'm focusing on my career right now." I tried to keep my tone light, but I could feel the irritation simmering beneath the surface.

Riya's expression turned concerned, but I could see the judgment lurking behind her eyes. "I'm just worried about you, Saloni. Most of the time, you spend your time alone, and I don't think that's healthy. You need to get out there and meet people. As your friend I am just looking out for you." Her voice was laced with a patronizing tone, and I felt my defenses rise.

Looking out for me or looking down on me? Cockroach khi ki.

I stood up, my patience wearing thin. "Thanks for your concern, Riya, but I'm fine. I don't need to be around people all the time to be happy. And even if I did, I'm not exactly lacking in social skills." I smiled sweetly, trying to diffuse the tension.

I really don't want to argue with someone like her. She isn't worth my time.

"It's not that you're focused on your career, Saloni. You just don't have anyone. Let's face it, you're pretty isolated in your personal life." Her words were like a slap in the face, and I felt my anger rising.

Anjali, one of our colleagues, spoke up, her tone firm. "Riya, that was out of line. You shouldn't talk like that." But Riya ignored her and continued to push my buttons.

That was it. My jaw clenched.

I took a breath, voice low but firm. "That's none of your concern."

But she wasn't done. Not by a long shot.

"Let's be honest — you're boring. No one wants to spend time with you. No boyfriend, no friends outside work. Heck, I don't even think you have friends at work."

I felt my blood pressure rise, but I kept my voice steady, though the edge was sharp now.

"If you want to gossip, maybe focus on your own life instead of mine."

That should've stopped her, right? Nope. She just smiled wider — like she was enjoying winding me up.

"Seriously, Saloni? You think you're so above it all, but the truth is, you're just lonely."

I pushed myself up from the chair. The scrape against the floor made the room go quiet.

"Enough," I said, voice cold and steady. "If you want to judge me, do it somewhere else. I don't owe you or anyone explanations about my life."

Riya blinked, like she didn't expect me to finally push back.

Leaning in, I added quietly, "And if I told you I do have someone?"

The room fell silent, with colleagues staring at me in surprise. Riya's face fell, and she looked annoyed. She raised an eyebrow, her tone laced with a little annoyance and mocking.

"Oh, really? What's his name? What does he do? Is he a practicing CA or working in finance, maybe a financial manager or something?" I smiled weakly, feeling like I was trapped in a web of my own making.

Ise kehte hai apne hi pair par khud kuladi Marna.

If I say he's a CA too, it'll be a problem. Everyone in the profession knows each other, we all are acquaintances. It's bound to come up in conversation. One LinkedIn search and my fake love story would collapse faster than Riya's moral compass. I might get caught in my own lie. What should I say? Come on Saloni, come up with anything!

" Actually he's... uh...a doctor!" A doctor? That's crazy. I knew I was digging myself deeper, but I couldn't stop now.

Rohan, another colleague, spoke up, his tone friendly. "Hey, Saloni, we'd love to meet him. You should bring him to Riya's wedding."

Riya's eyes narrowed, and I knew she was plotting something. "Yes, do invite your boyfriend. I'd love to meet him." I nodded, feeling like I was sweating bullets. "I'll...see what I can do." Oh man, I'm in so much trouble.

──── · · ୨୧ · · ────

I stepped out of my car, my mind still reeling from the chaos at the office. Why did I even lie about having a boyfriend? That cockroach! If only she didn't provoke me I would have kept quiet. And why did I say he is a doctor! Like really Saloni you think a doctor would be in a relationship with you!

Lying about having a boyfriend wasn't enough that a meeting with a client went wrong as well. Such a bad day I had today.

As I walked towards the lift, my heels snapped on the pavement. I let out a frustrated sigh. "Seriously?!" I muttered to myself. "This day just can't get any worse! First, that cockroach Riya, then that client, and now my heels. It was my favorite and I only got to wear it four times only. What's next? Am I going to trip on my own feet and face-plant into a dustbin?"

Just as I was about to step into the lift, Mrs. Gupta's voice stopped me. "Saloni, beta! Wait up!" My heart sank. I thought to myself, "Oh no, please God! I don't have energy to deal with her.

But instead of grilling me about my life, Mrs. Gupta said with a warm smile, "You know, someone new moved into the apartment next to yours. I was going to go greet them with some freshly made kheer, but since you're going up to the third floor, why don't you take it for me?" I was taken aback. Kheer?

Mrs. Gupta handed me not one, but two tiffins. "And this one's for you, beta. I know how much you love sweets! I packed some extra kheer just for you." My heart warmed at the kind gesture. I thought to myself, "Okay, Mrs. Gupta, you've won me over with your kheer."

I used to think that Mrs Gupta is a noisy lady who does nothing but poke her nose in everyone's business but she is so sweet! How wrong I was to think about her like that. May God bless you Mrs Gupta! May you get all the happiness in the world.

Mujhe toh bas kheer se matlab hai.

I took the tiffins and thanked her. Well, maybe this day isn't so bad after all. At least I have kheer to look forward to! I smiled, and headed towards the lift.

As I stepped into the lift, the doors were about to close, but a hand shot in, halting their trajectory. A tall, handsome figure slipped in, and our eyes met in a fleeting moment. My gaze locked onto his, and my heart skipped a beat. Those familiar brown eyes, like molten chocolate, seemed to pierce through me.

Arjun?

What in the cosmic chaos is he doing here?

I blinked once. Twice. Maybe if I blinked a third time he'd vanish. No luck.

It's been almost... ten years. A whole decade of not seeing him, not hearing from him, and now—poof—here he is. Appearing out of thin air like some ghost from my emotionally repressed past.

The lift lurched into motion, but it was my stomach that really dropped. I was suddenly too aware of everything—his presence next to me, the scent of kheer wafting from my tiffin, and how I was probably still slightly smudged from the disaster that was today.

Our eyes met for a second. Just a second.

And then... nothing.

No smile. No flicker of recognition.

Seriously?

He pressed the button for the third floor. Still hadn't looked at me. No smile. No "Oh my god, Saloni?!" Just... nothing.

Like I was invisible.

I mean, sure, it's been years. The memories came flooding back – the way we'd sit together in class, exchanging notes and whispers; the way we'd study together, our heads bent over textbooks, and our hands touching - and now I'm just what? A mildly interesting wall poster?

Of course.

Of course he doesn't smile. Of course he doesn't say anything. That would be too easy, wouldn't it?

I looked away. Pretended like my pulse wasn't banging in my ears. Pretended I didn't care. Pretended this was just another day and he was just another guy in the lift and not the boy whose heart I once—

Nope. Not finishing that sentence. Delete. Burn it. Pretend it never existed. Get a grip Saloni, you're not seventeen anymore.

Maybe he's changed. People change. I've changed. He probably has a serious life and a job, files taxes on time, doesn't stay up all night overthinking every small thing like some of us.

Maybe he remembers. Maybe he's pretending.

The silence in the lift stretched like chewing gum on a hot day. I felt trapped—between the past, his cologne, and the weight of a million unsaid things that apparently we were never going to say.

As the doors opened, I stepped out and quickened my pace, my heart racing with every step.

I didn't look back.

Because I was mature.

Because I didn't need closure.

Because I'm not the kind of girl who walks out of someone's life and then falls apart in an elevator ten years later when he walks back in looking like a damn magazine cover.

Nope. Not me.

Totally fine.

I just needed to go home, eat kheer, scream into a pillow for twenty minutes, and pretend this entire day never happened.

That's all.

As I reached my apartment door, I fumbled with the keys, my hands shaking. I pushed open the door and slipped inside, the cool air enveloping me like a shroud. I leaned against the door, my eyes welling up with tears. But before the tears could fall, I wiped my eyes.

I marched to the kitchen like a soldier going to war, dropped my bag on the counter with a thud, and yanked open the tiffin box. The sweet, milky aroma of kheer floated out, warm and comforting like a hug I didn't know I needed.

"Oh thank you, Mrs. Gupta," I muttered like she was a literal saint. "You beautiful, meddling woman with the gossip network of the CBI—you've redeemed yourself."

I scooped a giant spoonful and shoved it into my mouth. The creamy, sugary goodness hit me instantly.

And then I cracked.

My face twisted into a wobbly half-cry-half-snort as I dramatically collapsed onto the couch, spoon still in hand like a lifeline.

"Why?" I muttered to the ceiling. "Why today, God? What karmic crime did I commit that I had to run into him today of all days?"

Another spoonful.

"You're really enjoying this, aren't you? Watching me spiral, eating kheer like a heartbroken soap opera heroine. What's next? Rain indoors? Dramatic background music?"

I put the tiffin down and wiped my face with the sleeve of my blazer. "God, I am also your child. I file my taxes. I recycle. I even tolerate Riya without pushing her into a printer. Isn't that enough?"

The image of Arjun's neutral, unreadable face flashed in my mind again—and it stung. *Not even a flicker of recognition. Not even a hint of the boy I used to—

Nope. Not going there.

I stared at the now half-empty tiffin like it held answers. "And I just had to lie. Could've kept my mouth shut. Could've let Riya think I'm boring and single and dying alone. But nooo. I went and invented a fake boyfriend. And not just any boyfriend—a doctor."

I groaned and flopped back onto the couch like a dramatic Bollywood heroine.

"This day can't possibly get worse."

Just then, my eyes landed on the second tiffin.

Oh right. The neighbor welcome committee. Because apparently, I'm a kind, functional adult who delivers desserts to strangers.

"Why is my life like a sitcom written by a sadist?" I muttered, dragging myself off the couch. I splashed cold water on my face, pat-dried it, then forced my features into something vaguely resembling a smile.

Tiffin in hand, I opened the door and stepped out.

"I hope my new neighbor is a boring IT guy who never talks," I whispered to myself. "Please don't be weird.

As I raised my hand to knock on the door, my mind was racing with thoughts.

This is fine. Totally fine. I'm just delivering kheer. Like a good, respectful, society-loving neighbor. Not because Mrs. Gupta made me. And definitely not because I'm trying to be helpful or friendly or emotionally available.

I let out a breath and knocked.

The door swung open.

And my soul straight-up left my body.

There he was.

Arjun.

Standing in front of me. Again.

Twice in one day. Twice in one lifetime would've been enough. But no, the universe apparently ordered a double serving of emotional torture with a side of awkward silence.

He looked at me like I was a mildly unexpected furniture delivery.

His face was unreadable—polite, distant, the kind of expression you reserve for someone trying to sell you overpriced air purifiers. No spark of recognition. No raised eyebrow. No "Hey, long time no heartbreak."

I could practically hear the dramatic music in the background.

"How can I help you?," Arjun said, breaking the silence, his voice friendly but neutral.

I stood there, frozen in shock, my mouth still hanging open. I felt like I was in a dream, a really weird dream where the universe was playing a cruel joke on me.

How can I help you? Seriously! Does he really not recognize me or is just pretending to be a stranger?

For a second, I just stood there like a badly coded robot, blinking. Then my brain kicked into high -speed babble mode.

"Hi. Um. I'm Saloni. I live right next door. Which is obvious, I guess. Because... I'm standing here. Anyway—Mrs. Gupta from the ground floor made some kheer. She wanted me to bring it over. For you. She's really sweet, you know? Well, annoying sometimes. Okay, a lot. But sweet underneath. She's like a human onion—layers. Anyway, Kheer."

WHY am I talking like this? Someone press pause on my mouth. Please.

His eyes stayed neutral. Calm. Almost too calm. Like I was a stranger, or worse, a memory he deleted and emptied from the trash folder too.

I shoved the tiffin at him like it was a bomb I needed to get rid of.

"Here. Welcome to the building."

He took it with a polite nod, like I hadn't once broken his heart at seventeen and then disappeared.

"Thanks," he said.

Just that.

Thanks.

Not "Saloni?"

Not "Wow, this is awkward."

Not "Oh, hey, remember when we were inseparable and then you shattered me like a dropped phone screen?"

Nope. Just... "thanks."

And suddenly I was standing there in silence, holding the ghost of every memory between us.

Say something. Say anything. Pretend you're chill.

"So. Um. Hope you're settling in well. The lift's usually broken. The landlord's allergic to fixing things. And sometimes the tap water tastes like it has childhood trauma, but you'll get used to it."

What am I even SAYING?

He just nodded again. Still nothing. Like we were just neighbors and not... whatever we were.

I couldn't take it anymore.

"Well. Okay then. Enjoy the kheer. Bye."

I turned to leave before my face gave away the emotional earthquake happening inside me. My heart was pounding so loudly it could've set off a car alarm. I was halfway back to my door when I muttered under my breath:

"Cool. Great. Run into the guy you broke up with and pretend you're both emotionally evolved adults. Totally normal Tuesday."

I closed my door behind me and leaned against it, my chest heaving. My reflection in the mirror across the hall looked like someone who just saw a ghost, got hit by a train, and still had to finish her audit report by morning.

"Why? Why does the universe hate me?"

Of all people. Of all buildings. Of all floors in all of Mumbai, he had to move in next door. Was the universe playing "How Much Can Saloni Handle Before She Explodes" on hard mode?