Whisper in the Night|18+(hold)

Chapter 6 :Creating Her Own Destiny

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Kaira's POV:-

The click of my heels against the polished marble echoed through the emptying corridor, each sharp sound a cruel punctuation mark to the silence Rishav had cultivated around me. The meeting had just ended, and true to form, he hadn't spoken a single word directly to me — not even as his best friend's sister, a title that felt increasingly like a hollow, invisible barrier.

A hollow, bitter laugh, no louder than a breath, escaped me. What a life. I felt it deep in my bones, the profound emptiness that resonated with every step towards my cabin. It wasn't just the professional slight, it was everything. I felt like I was destined to have nothing truly mine, nothing loyal, nothing loving. My own brother, my flesh and blood, hadn't even bothered to tell me about the COO appointment. He knew, better than anyone, what a blow that would be, yet he'd kept me in the dark. Sometimes, I wondered if I was truly just a ghost to them, a shadow they could step over without even noticing I was there.

I pushed the cabin door shut, the soft thud feeling like a final seal on my isolation. Leaning back against the cool wood, I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the tremor in my chest to still. God, why? The silent question burned, a familiar ache. Why am I always the one left behind? Why am I always... alone? The room's silence pressed down on me, heavier than any indictment. My chest ached with the weight of unspoken grief, but I straightened, a rigid mask falling into place. No one, absolutely no one, would see me break. Not here. Not now.

I walked to my desk, the familiar hum of my laptop a welcome distraction as I forced my fingers to type, pretending to dive into work. But the screen blurred, replaced by Rishav's face. His usual calm, almost unreadable expression, save for one fleeting, incandescent flicker of happiness that had lit his eyes when Ritu's name was announced. It haunted me, a searing brand on my memory. He had never, not once in all the years I'd known him, looked at me like that.

My fists clenched, knuckles white, beneath the desk. Fine. If the world insisted on my solitude, then I would embrace it. But no one would ever witness my tears again.

Then, insidious and sharp as a shard of glass, the thought slid into my mind: What if... what if they both like each other?

It twisted, grinding deeper with every desperate attempt to push it away. My heart hammered against my ribs, a painful drumbeat, as I replayed the moment. Rishav's eyes, usually pools of quiet intensity, had glowed. Not just with professional admiration, but with an undeniable warmth, a soft wonder I'd never seen directed at anyone else before.

My breath hitched. Was it just pride in a colleague's achievement? Admiration? Happiness for her? Or... something far, far more?

I pressed my palms flat against the cool, smooth surface of the desk, as if grounding myself would make the horrifying realization vanish. But it didn't. Instead, it magnified, screaming in the sudden, ringing silence of my mind.

Maybe I was the fool. The utterly pathetic fool, holding onto childish affections that were never reciprocated, never even considered. He was my brother's best friend. And me? I was just the little sister who'd tagged along, a perpetual shadow in the periphery. That's all I ever was to him. That's all I'd ever be.

I bit down hard on my lower lip, tasting the metallic tang, desperate to quell the burning behind my eyes. I hated myself for the mere thought, for the persistent hope that still flickered, for the raw, aching question that clawed at my throat: Why couldn't it have been me?