" I'm sor-"
"DON'T, JUST DON'T SAY IT. YOU DO NOT EVEN DESERVE TO SAY IT AFTER WHAT YOU HAVE DONE TO ME! I BEGGED YOU, SCREAMED AND PLEAD, BUT YOU DIDN'T HEED MY WORDS. THEN WHY SHOULD I!"
I yelled with tears streaming down my face when witnessing m...
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The moment lingered in an uncomfortable silence between them, as unsaid words seemed to echo in the air. Finally, Ashok cleared his throat and spoke in a sharp, toneless voice, "So, Mr. Advait, do tell us more about yourself."
Rehan straightened slightly, though he was already impeccably poised. He had a natural grace, fluid and easy, like a gentle stream running its course over smooth stones. His white button-up shirt was crisp, and the afternoon light danced off his charcoal-gray trousers. The dark jacket fit him perfectly, speaking more of quiet taste than ostentation. There was something inherently calming about him, like the first breath of cool air on a hot evening, promising peace.
His warm, observant eyes flicked toward Sharmila for a brief moment. She hadn't lifted her head since he entered, her gaze fixed on the floor as if it held the answers to unspoken questions. Yet, despite her fragility, there was an undeniable grace about her. Her hair, loosely plaited, had begun to slip free, with strands catching the light as they danced across her forehead, turning her vulnerability into something almost ethereal. Though invisible weights pressed on her shoulders, there was a quiet dignity in the way she sat; broken, perhaps, but not defeated.
Rehan turned back to Ashok, his tone professional yet sincere. "I'm a professor at the college," he began. "I take on private tutoring for students who need individualized academic attention. One-on-one sessions allow me to explain things more clearly than in a crowded classroom. Apart from teaching, I also work as a senior data engineer at Deloitte."
Ashok listened, faint amusement flickering across his face, but his expression remained carefully neutral, the tension between them thick and palpable.
Just then, the caretaker entered with the quiet ease of someone accustomed to diffusing tense moments. She softly approached Sharmila, preparing to take her for her leg massage. Sharmila glanced up briefly, her fingers tightening on the arms of her wheelchair before she relaxed into the comfort of routine.
Ashok broke the silence again, his voice controlled but carrying an undertone of caution. "One thing I need to inform you about Sharmila will not be alone during her tutoring sessions. Either I or her caretaker will always be present. Please don't take it personally. Due to past incidents, Sharmila is uncomfortable around men."
"I understand," Rehan replied softly, his gaze steady and sincere.
Ashok stepped forward slightly, his tone warmer but still firm, with a hint of warning. "This does not mean you'll have the chance to get too familiar with her. You will address her only when necessary, and of course, no physical contact is required."
Rehan met Ashok's eyes, his face a mask of respect and professional dedication. "Of course. I want her to feel safe. We can structure the sessions in whatever way makes her most comfortable. If having you or the caretaker present is what she needs, then that's fine with me."
Ashok's features softened slightly, though his voice remained firm. "Good. We'll try it that way. Let's see how she responds."
"I'll do my best," Rehan assured, his words a quiet promise.
