Twin Inferno

42. back to normal

Siya’s POV

Back in India, the chaos of the office wrapped itself around me like a thick fog. The days abroad had been almost serene, filled with stolen smiles, late-night laughter, and moments that felt... right. But as soon as we returned, Ehaan had changed. The warmth that had started to grow between us on that trip faded into cold indifference the moment he stepped foot in the office.

I shook my head as I watched him through the glass wall of his cabin, engrossed in his work. He hadn’t looked up once all day. His harsh tone snapped at everyone who dared disturb him. My fingers fidgeted with the edge of a document as I remembered the smile he’d shown me on that last night abroad. It seemed like a distant memory now, buried under layers of formality and distance.

By the time the clock struck eight, the office was almost empty, save for a few of us trying to wrap up the day’s workload. I peeked into Ehaan’s office again and noticed the untouched lunchbox on his desk. I bit my lip, deciding that I’d at least try to make sure he ate something. With a sigh, I grabbed the box and headed to the small kitchen down the hall, warming up the food.

I made my way back to his office, balancing the plate in my hands as I knocked softly on the door.

“Come in,” his voice sounded clipped, barely masking his irritation. I pushed the door open and stepped inside, smiling tentatively. “What is it, Siya?”

“I just... noticed you didn’t eat,” I said, placing the plate on his desk. “Thought I’d bring you some dinner.”

His gaze flickered to the plate before returning to his computer. “I didn’t ask you to.”

I swallowed, feeling a twinge of hurt, but I kept my tone light. “I know. But you’ve been working nonstop, and I thought you might need a break.”

He leaned back, his eyes narrowing as he looked at me. “Siya, you don’t have to play the concerned wife or... whatever it is you’re trying to do. I’m perfectly capable of handling myself.”

My cheeks flushed, embarrassment pricking at me, but I forced myself to stay calm. “It’s just dinner, Ehaan. You’re not some machine who can run without fuel.”

“I told you,” he said, his voice icy, “I don’t need it. Or your pity.”

I opened my mouth to argue but quickly shut it, realizing that pushing him further would only make things worse. Instead, I took a steadying breath and managed a small smile. “It’s not pity. It’s just... caring.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Siya, I appreciate your... efforts, but I don’t have time for this.”

The words stung more than I’d admit. For a second, I wanted to just walk out, to leave him to his stubbornness. But as I looked at the exhaustion in his eyes, the lines of stress on his face, I knew I couldn’t. I had seen glimpses of his softer side, the side he hid so well. And maybe, just maybe, he needed someone to push through his walls.

Ignoring his glare, I slid the plate a little closer to him. “You don’t have to talk to me. Just eat. I won’t even stay if that’s what you want.”

For a moment, he just looked at me, his expression a mix of annoyance and something else—something almost vulnerable. But just as quickly, he masked it with his usual stoic look.

“Fine,” he muttered finally, picking up the fork. He didn’t look at me, focusing instead on the food as he took a bite, his movements mechanical.

A small smile crept onto my face as I turned to leave. “Goodnight, Ehaan,” I whispered, hoping he might hear the warmth in my voice.

But as I walked out, his words followed me, echoing in my mind. I knew he was pushing me away, building his walls higher with every interaction. But for some reason, I felt more determined than ever to find a way through to the real Ehaan hidden beneath them.

I didn’t need a reason. I just wanted him to know someone cared—even if he was determined to pretend otherwise.