HIS FATHER'S MANAGER'S DAUGHTER

The Friendship

After they finished breakfast, the atmosphere in the kitchen was a mix of the calm from their earlier conversation and an undercurrent of tension that neither could fully ignore. Aryan put down his fork, leaning back in his chair, while Nandini quietly sipped the last of her coffee.

For a moment, they sat in silence, the sound of the bustling city outside barely reaching the quiet of the kitchen. Nandini could feel her thoughts circling—she knew what she needed to say, but voicing it was another challenge entirely. She had asked him to be patient, to slow down, and even to be friends—but in reality, she knew what Aryan truly wanted. And that knowledge made her heart twist with guilt.

Aryan stood, collecting the plates with an ease that almost made Nandini smile. It was an image that felt so far from the Aryan she had grown up knowing—the quiet, intense, somewhat brooding Aryan who now stood casually cleaning up after breakfast as if this was the most natural thing in the world. But as he placed the plates in the sink and began rinsing them, she knew this was more than just a simple gesture. Aryan wasn't the type to ignore emotions. He was doing this, she realized, to give her space to process.

And it worked. Because the longer she watched him, the harder it became to hold back her own feelings.

"Aryan," she said softly, her voice hesitant.

He paused, his back still turned to her as he washed the dishes, but she saw the slight tensing of his shoulders at her tone. He was waiting for whatever she was about to say. She swallowed, her heart beating faster, and then continued.

"I know I keep saying we need to take things slow... and that I want us to figure things out like friends, but I—" She stopped herself, feeling a knot form in her throat. Aryan turned slightly, his profile catching the morning light that streamed in through the window.

"Nishu," he began, his voice calm but with an underlying intensity that always seemed to be present when he spoke to her. "You don't have to explain. I get it."

She shook her head. "No, you don't. You've been so understanding about everything, and here I am, pushing you away again. I keep asking for time, and I'm scared that I'm just hurting you by not giving you a clear answer."

Aryan turned fully toward her now, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel, his eyes locking onto hers with that unwavering focus she had come to expect from him. There was a storm behind his eyes, something deep and consuming, and yet he stood there, as composed as ever.

"I told you," Aryan said softly, his voice holding that familiar mix of gentleness and steel, "I'll wait. I've been waiting for years. I've wanted you for years, Nandini, but I also know that you need time. You've been through a lot, and I respect that."

Nandini's breath hitched at the raw honesty in his words. The weight of his emotions was impossible to ignore, and the guilt of asking him to wait even longer gnawed at her.

"But I don't want to lose you," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I don't want to push you away so much that you eventually leave."

Aryan moved toward her then, his footsteps deliberate but quiet. When he was close enough, he gently tilted her chin up with his fingers, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Nandini," he said, his voice low and steady, "I'm not going anywhere."

Her heart softened at his words, the tenderness in his touch, the quiet assurance that he would stay by her side no matter what. And yet, the tension between them lingered. She could feel it in the way his fingers tightened ever so slightly under her chin, in the way his jaw tensed as he struggled to keep his emotions in check.