I Fall For Him Twice

The Tension In The Air

As I walked towards Roshan’s office, my heart pounded in my chest. The hallway felt longer than ever. What was he going to say? Did he recognize me? Or was this just a formal meeting? A hundred thoughts rushed through my head, and each step felt heavier than the last.

I reached his office and took a deep breath before knocking on the door. His voice, calm but serious, came from the other side. “Come in.”

I opened the door slowly and stepped inside. Roshan was sitting at his desk, his eyes focused on something in front of him. When he looked up and saw me, his expression didn’t change much, but there was something in his eyes I couldn’t quite read.

“Sit down, Emma,” he said, gesturing to the chair across from him.

I sat down, my hands clasped in my lap to stop them from trembling. The silence in the room was thick, and I could feel the tension hanging between us.

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” he started, his voice steady. “It’s about your performance...”

I blinked in confusion. Performance? I had only just started. How could he be talking about my work already?

“I know you’re new here,” he continued, “but there are expectations, especially since you’re in a close position with me. You’ll need to be careful about how people see you in the office.”

I frowned, not understanding where this was coming from. “What do you mean?”

Roshan leaned back in his chair, his gaze piercing. “I saw you get out of Jack’s car this morning.”

My breath caught in my throat. So he did see me.

He raised an eyebrow, his tone sharp now. “It’s not a good look, Emma. On your first day, getting out of another manager’s car. People talk, and it doesn’t create a professional image.”

I felt a flash of anger rise in me. This was ridiculous. “Roshan, it was just a ride. He was being nice because I didn’t have a way to get to the office.”

“I’m sure he was,” Roshan said coldly. “But you need to be careful. The office isn’t like college. People make assumptions, and those assumptions can damage your reputation.”

His words cut deeper than I expected, and I suddenly felt defensive. Was he implying something about me? About Jack? It felt unfair, especially coming from him. The man who didn’t even remember me, who had once meant so much to me.

“I don’t think it’s fair for you to say that,” I said, my voice firm. “It was just a ride. Nothing more. And if people want to talk, that’s their problem, not mine.”

Roshan’s eyes darkened. “You need to be smarter than that, Emma. You’re not a student anymore.”

I clenched my fists, my anger bubbling up. “I’m not a child, Roshan. I know how to handle myself.”

For a moment, we just stared at each other, the tension between us thick and heavy. I could feel the heat rising in my face, my frustration growing by the second. This wasn’t the Roshan I knew. Or maybe, it was. Maybe this was him now—a cold, distant man who saw me as nothing more than a junior employee.

But then, something flickered in his expression. His voice softened just slightly, and for a moment, I thought I saw the old Roshan, the one who used to care.

“I’m just trying to look out for you,” he said, his tone quieter now. “It’s different here. I don’t want you to make any mistakes.”

I swallowed hard, trying to push down the emotions swirling inside me. Part of me wanted to yell at him for being so cold, for not remembering who I was to him. But another part of me saw the concern in his eyes, even if it was hidden under layers of professionalism.

“Thanks,” I said, my voice tight. “But I can take care of myself.”

Roshan didn’t respond, just stared at me for a moment longer, as if trying to figure me out. Then he nodded, his expression unreadable again.

“You can go now,” he said, turning his attention back to his desk.

I stood up quickly, feeling a mix of relief and anger as I left the office. I didn’t know what to think anymore. Part of me was still hurt by his coldness, but another part of me couldn’t ignore the fact that he seemed to be... watching out for me.

---

The rest of the day passed in a blur. I could barely focus on my work. My mind kept replaying the conversation with Roshan over and over again. Every time I thought about his tone, the way he had spoken to me, it made my blood boil. He had no right to act like that, like he knew what was best for me.

But then, there was the other side of it—the fact that he was looking out for me, even if his approach was rough. It reminded me of how protective he used to be back in college, how he always made sure I was okay, even when I didn’t ask him to.

That night, I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned, my thoughts filled with Roshan. How could things have gotten so complicated? How could he not remember me, but still act like he knew me in some strange, distant way?

---

The next morning, I arrived at the office early, determined to put everything behind me. I wasn’t going to let Roshan get under my skin. I would do my job and keep things professional, no matter how hard it was.

But, as fate would have it, things didn’t go according to plan.

As soon as I stepped into the office, I saw Roshan standing by the elevator, talking to a woman I didn’t recognize. She was tall, beautiful, and clearly very close to him. They were laughing together, their heads tilted toward each other in a way that made my stomach turn.

I froze, my heart sinking. Who was she? And why did seeing them together bother me so much?

As if sensing my presence, Roshan looked up and met my eyes. For a second, I thought I saw something flicker in his expression—surprise, maybe—but then it was gone. He nodded at me, a polite acknowledgment, and then turned back to the woman as if I wasn’t even there.

I felt a sting in my chest, but I forced myself to keep walking. I wasn’t going to let this get to me. Not again.

The day dragged on, each minute feeling longer than the last. Every time I passed by Roshan’s office or saw him in the hallway, the tension between us felt thicker, more intense. And every time I thought about the woman from that morning, a knot of jealousy twisted in my stomach, even though I had no right to feel that way.

By lunchtime, I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed to get out of the office, clear my head. I grabbed my bag and headed to a café nearby. As I sat down with my coffee, trying to calm my racing thoughts, my phone buzzed.

It was a message from Roshan.

“Can we talk? Meet me in my office after lunch.”

My heart skipped a beat. What did he want now?

I sighed, putting my phone down. I didn’t know if I had the strength for another confrontation, but I couldn’t avoid him forever. I needed to face whatever this was between us, even if it hurt.

---

Back at the office, I nervously walked toward Roshan’s office once again. The air felt thick with tension, my pulse quickening with each step. As I entered his office, Roshan was standing by the window, his back to me, hands in his pockets.

He didn’t turn around when he spoke. “I’ve been thinking... about our conversation yesterday.”

I stayed silent, unsure of where this was going.

“I was harsh,” he admitted, finally turning to face me. His expression was softer, more open. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I’m sorry.”

His words caught me off guard. I hadn’t expected an apology.

“I just... I don’t know why, but I feel like I need to protect you, Emma,” he said, his voice almost pained. “And it’s confusing because...”

He trailed off, his eyes searching mine. There was something there, something unspoken, a connection that neither of us fully understood but both of us felt.

“Because?” I prompted, my heart racing.

Roshan stepped closer, his gaze intense. “Because I feel like I know you... but I can’t remember why.”

His words hung in the air between us, heavy with meaning. My heart ached, torn between hope and fear. He was so close to remembering, but still so far away.

I swallowed hard, my voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe you should try.”

Roshan’s eyes softened, and for the first time in years, I saw a glimpse of the man I had once loved—the man who had been my everything.

But just as quickly as it had appeared, the moment was gone. Roshan stepped back, his expression closing off again, the walls between us going back up.

“I’m sorry, Emma,” he said, his voice distant. “I can’t.”

And with that, the conversation was over, leaving me standing in the middle of his office, heartbroken and more confused than ever.