ADHURI KAHANI: A tale of an amnesic bond

56. NIRAJ IS DEAD

ISHAAN'S POV

I found myself grinning and hoping like a complete fool as I exited the elevator and headed to my cabin. My steps were lighter, almost like I was floating. The memory of her saying my name played on repeat in my mind, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't wipe the smile off my face.

"Damn it, Ishaan. What is wrong with you?" my inner voice chimed in, dripping with mockery. "She just said your name, not a declaration of love. You're being so cringe."

But I couldn't care less. Let my inner voice judge me all it wanted-I was riding a high I hadn't felt in a long time. The way she had said my name, soft and sweet, had done something to me. It felt intimate, personal, like a tiny glimpse into a side of her I hadn't fully seen before. I was so used to her addressing me as "sir," her voice laced with formality and distance. Hearing her say "Ishaan" felt like a crack in the walls she'd built around herself, and I wasn't about to ignore it. It was progress-a small but significant milestone-and I was determined to savor every second of it.

I stopped in my tracks as the cleaner exited what used to be her cabin-Inaaya's cabin. My moment of childlike giddiness evaporated, replaced with a wave of awkwardness. I cleared my throat loudly, mostly to mask the embarrassment of possibly being caught hopping like a toddler in the middle of the office corridor.

Please, dear lord, I silently prayed, tell me he didn't see that. My image-my carefully curated persona of the strict, disciplined, ice-cold boss-remained intact. At least for now. But then again, who cares about an image when it comes to her?

I straightened my shoulders, trying to reclaim some of that authoritative aura I was known for, but my thoughts betrayed me almost instantly. I'd give up everything for her. My carefully built reputation, the walls I'd so meticulously constructed over the years-none of it mattered if it meant having her. Maybe this is what my 19-year-old self felt back then. Completely consumed by her, ready to defy every expectation, every plan laid out for me, just for a chance to be by her side. Just like how I'd refused to go to the U.S. for further studies back then. Everyone thought I was crazy, reckless even. But they didn't know. They didn't understand that I couldn't leave her, not when she was the center of my universe.

And now, even years later, she still had the power to make me act like a lovesick teenager. She probably didn't even realize it, but she did.

"Good morning, sir."

I quickly adjusted my tie and plastered a tight-lipped smile on my face. "Morning," I replied with a curt nod, maintaining the professionalism I was known for-or at least trying to.

With that, I continued toward my cabin, walking at a measured pace this time, every step deliberate, as if I hadn't just been hopping like a fool moments earlier. Compose yourself, Ishaan. You're the boss. Act like it. But even as I walked, my thoughts wandered back to her-to the reason my carefully constructed persona kept crumbling around the edges. Inaaya.

Maybe the cleaner didn't notice anything unusual. Or maybe he did. But honestly, did it even matter? My heart was a traitor, and it didn't care about my "strict, disciplined, ice-cold" reputation. All it cared about was her-her smile, her voice, her lips her everything.

My lips twitched into a small smile as I reached my cabin and shut the door behind me. Leaning against it for a moment, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. This woman had me unraveling in ways I didn't think possible, but for her, I'd happily let it happen.

Straightening up, I walked to my desk, the smile lingering as I sat down. It was going to be a long day, but just the thought of her, even her absence, made it a little brighter.