Page 41 of Cherish my Heart

I’m not fine. Especially not right now.

“Is that really what people think?” My voice breaks as I lean against the cold wall. “That I’m here because of… because he—?”

“No,” Radha says firmly, stepping in front of me. “That’s not what people think. That’s what he thinks. Because you bruised his ego. Because men like him think a ‘no’ needs a reason. And if they can’t find one, they make one.”

I swallow, hard. “I tried to be polite. I—”

“You were perfect,” she says, touching my arm. “And he couldn’t handle it. It has nothing to do with Abhimaan. Or you. It’s his own damn insecurity.”

I let out a shaky breath. “I know that. I do. But it still feels like I was just dragged through filth for… what? Doing my job? Saying no?”

Radha nods, quieter now. “That’s the part that hurts the most. You do everything right, and still... someone has the audacity to stain your name.”

The tears prick at the corners of my eyes, but I blink them away.

“I just—” My voice breaks. “I didn’t want anyone to think that about me. That I got here because of him.”

That’s all I have ever been in my life. Sometimes I am the daughter of the Malhotras, sometimes the sister of Rudraksh and Aarav Malhotra, and now Abhimaan. This is so unfair to me. Can’t I just be Aditi for once? I feel a lump form in my throat.

Radha’s expression softens. “The people who matter know why you’re here. You’ve earned every bit of it. Hell, the man himself didn’t step into the office for two days because you weren’t there.”

I glance at her.

She smiles. “So maybe that says more about his respect for you than anything they could whisper.”

Her words settle somewhere deep. Not quite comfort, but... steadiness. I nod.

We walk back up the stairs, side by side. My hands still tremble, but I hold my head high.

When we reach the sixth floor, I don’t return to my desk. Instead, I walk straight to the door I know better than to knock on.

He looks up immediately. His eyes sweep over me, like he knows something’s off. I hate how easily he figures it out.

“I don’t feel well,” I say, voice even but quiet. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to take a half day.”

His brows pinch. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” I lie. “Just… tired.”

His gaze sharpens. That unsettling way he sees through people. Sees through me.

There’s a beat of silence as if he’s expecting me to tell him everything, but I can’t; I don’t want to. I might be facing an HR complaint tomorrow most definitely, and he will get to know obviously, so I just let it be. “Go home,” he says. “Text me when you reach.”

I am glad he doesn’t push it.

“Okay.”

I turn to leave, never looking back.

But the weight of his stare stays with me. Like an anchor. Like a question I’m too tired to answer.

CHAPTER 22

ABHIMAAN

There’s a strange kind of stillness in the air today. Not the peaceful kind. The unsettling kind. Like something’s missing. Like a piece of the rhythm I’ve gotten used to has suddenly gone silent.

I glance at the clock. 10:06 AM.