Shadows in the Boardroom

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The polished walls of the conference room held the scent of business formalities, and as Ishan and Shubman found themselves facing each other across the gleaming table, the air thickened with more than just the anticipation of a corporate discussion.

In the midst of the professional discourse, Ishan's mind betrayed him, drifting back to a time when their interactions were not governed by strategic discussions and office politics.


Flashback:

The sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the tangled sheets of their shared bed. Ishan's fingers traced lazy circles on Shubman's bare back as they lingered in the cocoon of their love nest. The world outside seemed distant, irrelevant.

"I love lazy Sundays with you," Shubman murmured, his eyes locked onto Ishan's.

"Me too," Ishan replied, a smile playing on his lips. In that moment, the future held the promise of forever, and the shadows that now loomed seemed unimaginable.

The corporate veneer shattered as the meeting continued, and Ishan found himself grappling with the duality of their relationship—the professional and the personal, the past and the present.

The apartment echoed with the resonance of slamming doors and shouted words. Ishan stood, his back against the wall, as the shards of their relationship splintered around him.

"I can't do this anymore, Ishan," Shubman's voice wavered with a mixture of anger and desperation. "We're drowning, and I can't save us."

The present-day meeting continued, but the weight of these memories lingered in the air, casting shadows on the polished surfaces of the boardroom. Each glance exchanged between Ishan and Shubman carried the echoes of their shared history.

Their last meeting before the divorce had been a silent exchange of belongings—an unspoken farewell in the empty apartment. Ishan packed his books, and Shubman folded their shared memories into boxes. The air was thick with the unsaid, the love that had once thrived now reduced to remnants of what used to be.

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