𝗌𝗂𝗑𝗍𝖾𝖾𝗇

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Anisha's POV

Exiting my office post the conversation with Mr. Raichand, I swiftly flagged down a cab. The engine roared to life, and in tandem, a message illuminated my phone screen.

"Drop me a message when you reach there. And while driving back, be safe on the road. If your head aches again, don't forget to take medicine, and rest properly. If you can't drive, call me; I'll pick you up."

No surprise who the sender was - Atharva Raichand!

A spontaneous smile graced my lips without warning.

I never knew this man could be so nagging!

But then, I knew next to nothing about him!

My most intimate interaction with Atharva Raichand happened through Sahil, who introduced him as his best friend. A month into our dating, Sahil took me out to dinner, providing the occasion for me to meet his friend.

On that day of our introduction, I had instantly identified him as a familiar face from my time working at the café. The details from those days are a bit fuzzy, but what stands out is his daily routine - occupying a corner table, placing an order, and quietly departing.

Coincidentally, after parting ways with my part-time job and joining IndiVision, he, besides being my boyfriend's best friend, became my boss.

Mr. Raichand held a significant place in Sahil's life as his childhood friend; their bond was inseparable, akin to that of brothers. Their connection ran deep- with both being unwavering pillars of support for each other. Both held immense care, trust, and love for each other, making their friendship a robust and enduring bond.

Beyond being Sahil's confidant, he held a special place almost like a son to Sahil's parents, reciprocating the sentiment with genuine care.

Despite these close connections, a palpable chasm existed between him and me.

In contrast to the warm bonds I cultivated with Sahil's friends, which only deepened after our marriage, my relationship with Mr. Raichand was a distinct tale.

It was distant and formal.

Our interactions before Sahil's untimely death were scarce - their number of times can be counted on my fingers.

Each greeting I extended to him earned only a nod. Our eyes never met. The questions I posed received concise, one-word responses, and every time I offered coffee, it was met with a refusal. Every single time, without exception.

There were only a few times when he bothered to speak to me. On one occasion, my first radio show was a huge hit, and he had visited the IndiVision office for a meeting. The broadcasting network head had praised my achievements in front of him. That's when he had looked at me and spoken - even though it was typical Atharva Raichand's response - a monosyllabic "Good."

Another instance was when Sahil and I got married, and his response was a simple, hurried "Congratulations," as if saying one more word would hurt his soul.

We were distant to the point that when, on one occasion, he visited our home to meet Sahil, and Sahil and his parents were out but due to return in five minutes, he opted not to enter the house. Instead, the man waited outside in the sun until everyone returned.

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