YOUR SAVIOUR

When the Past Walked In

The next day, Aditya was buried in work. Sunlight filtered through the half-open blinds, casting striped patterns over his cluttered desk. He sat in his cabin, surrounded by silence except for the soft hum of the air conditioner and the rhythmic ticking of the wall clock. His brows were furrowed in concentration as he scanned a thick stack of financial reports, highlighting figures and making quick notes in the margins. The peaceful monotony of office life, the scent of paper and coffee, the constant low buzz of productivity—everything seemed perfectly ordinary.

And then, the unexpected happened.

The door to his cabin burst open with a loud bang. Aditya jolted upright, startled out of his concentration. The pen slipped from his fingers and clattered onto the floor. For a brief moment, he thought something was wrong—an emergency, perhaps. But when he looked up, his world tilted.

There she was.

Diksha.

She stood in the doorway with her arms crossed, an unmistakable smirk tugging at her lips. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned casually against the doorframe, clearly enjoying the stunned look on his face.

Aditya stared at her, utterly dumbfounded. His mouth opened slightly, but no words came out. It felt like the air had been knocked from his lungs. The world around him blurred—papers, files, the ticking clock—all fading into insignificance. All he could see was her.

She tilted her head playfully and said, imitating his tone from the previous night, “Do you have any kind of ritual in your office to make your guest stand and not even ask for tea or coffee?”

It took him a second to register her words. Then, finally, a smile broke across his face. A laugh bubbled up from his chest, full and disbelieving.

“You’re really something,” he said, shaking his head in amazement. “Please, have a seat… Ma’am.”

Diksha chuckled and walked in with mock elegance, taking the chair opposite him like a queen settling on her throne. “Thank you, Mr. Aditya,” she said with exaggerated politeness.

He leaned back in his chair, still trying to process the surrealness of the moment. “Well then, may I know the reason for your unexpected visit to my humble little company, Ma’am?"

She placed a file on his desk with a dramatic flair, sliding it toward him like it was a secret dossier. “You asked for the company accounts, didn’t you?”

He blinked, confused. “I did… but how did you—”

“Oh, right!” she said with a grin. “Forgot to tell you. I recently joined here as an accountant.”

His jaw dropped. “You what?”

“Yep. Joined this morning. Officially your employee now.”

He stared at her, still trying to process. “Wait, how? When?”

“Applied through a consultancy. Got the job offer last week. Orientation was today. Walked into the finance department and—boom—your name was on the director's board. Destiny’s being dramatic again,” she said with a wink.

He laughed, rubbing his temples. “This… this is insane.”

“I know, right?” she beamed. “And yet, here we are. Again.”

“Well, if you're an employee now, then I don't think it's appropriate for us to sit here chit-chatting over tea,” he said, playing along.

She raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. “So… you mean I’m no one to you now?”

Panic flashed across his face. “No! No, that’s not what I meant, sweetie—”

Her jaw dropped in mock horror. “Sweetie? Oh wow. Boss flirts with his employees now? Very unprofessional, Mr. Aditya.”

He blushed, flustered, and tried to cover it with a cough. “You’re impossible.”

They both laughed, the tension melting away. A staff member knocked and entered with two cups of tea—Diksha had apparently requested it earlier. They sipped the steaming brew, their conversation drifting between playful banter and deeper, unspoken thoughts. They spoke of fate, of coincidences, of how strange life could be when it wanted to. For a while, the office became a sanctuary, a pause in their otherwise chaotic lives.

But fate wasn’t done being dramatic.

Just as laughter echoed in the room, the cabin door flew open again without warning. A tall man entered, his posture tense and his gaze immediately locking onto Diksha.

Her body stiffened.

Aditya noticed the change instantly. Her smile vanished. Her eyes, which had been full of light a second ago, dimmed with fear. She seemed to shrink into herself, as if trying to become invisible. Her hands trembled slightly as she set her teacup down on the table.

The man didn’t speak. He just stood there, his eyes fixed on her.

The air grew heavy.

Aditya rose to his feet, instinctively protective. “Can I help you?” he asked, his tone polite but guarded.

But Diksha didn’t move. Her breaths grew short and shallow. Her chest heaved slightly as panic set in. Her eyes darted to the walls, the floor, anywhere but at the man. She was spiraling.

She was having a panic attack.

Aditya moved swiftly to her side, kneeling down beside her chair. “Hey… hey, breathe. Look at me,” he said softly, cupping her cheek to guide her eyes to his.

She blinked rapidly, clearly trying to focus. Her fingers clutched his arm like it was the only thing tethering her to reality.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “You’re safe. I’m here. Just breathe with me.”

She nodded faintly, trying to match his breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Slowly. Together.

He turned his head sharply toward the man. “Who are you? What do you want?”

But Diksha found her voice—barely a whisper—as she clutched his sleeve. “Aditya… please… ask him to leave.”

That was all he needed.

He rose to his full height, his demeanor hardening. “You heard her. Get out. Now.”

The man stared at Aditya, his jaw clenched, but he didn’t respond. After a tense beat, he turned on his heel and walked out without a word.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Aditya turned back to her, brushing a strand of hair from her face. Her eyes welled up with tears, her body still trembling from the aftershock.

“He’s gone,” he said gently. “He won’t come near you again.”

She bit her lip, tears finally spilling down her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“No,” he replied, his voice soft but firm. “You don’t need to apologize. Not to me.”

Her shoulders slumped, the weight of the moment crashing over her. “I didn’t want you to see that side of me…”

“I want to see every side of you,” he interrupted gently. “Even the ones you think you need to hide.”

Her eyes met his. Vulnerable. Exposed. But safe.

“You don’t have to fight everything alone, Diksha,” he said, echoing the words he’d told her before. “Letting someone in doesn’t make you weak. It makes you strong. And you can always rely on me.”

She didn’t speak. Instead, she reached out and held his hand tightly, grounding herself in the warmth of his presence.

Aditya guided her gently to the sofa in the corner of his cabin, one hand steady on her back as she sat down slowly. Her breathing was still uneven, but the color had started to return to her cheeks. He poured her a glass of water from the dispenser nearby and knelt down once more, offering it to her.

“Drink this,” he said softly. “Small sips.”

She took the glass, her fingers brushing his. Her hands were still trembling, but the warmth of his gaze steadied her more than the water. She took a few sips, then wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand.

“I didn’t think I’d see him again,” she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Not here. Not like this.”

Aditya frowned. “Do you want to tell me who he is?”

She hesitated. Her eyes flicked toward the now-closed door, as if expecting the man to return.

“An old mistake,” she said eventually. “Someone I tried really hard to leave behind. I thought I had.”

Aditya didn’t push. “You don’t have to tell me everything right now. But just so you know—you’re safe here. With me. Always.”

The look she gave him then was filled with unspoken gratitude.

They sat in silence for a moment longer, the office unusually quiet outside the walls of the cabin. It felt like time had slowed down for just the two of them. Finally, she let out a shaky breath and chuckled softly.

“Didn’t expect my first day at the job to turn into a drama film,” she said, trying to lighten the mood.

Aditya smiled. “Well, you’re setting the bar pretty high for office entertainment.”

She laughed again, genuinely this time, and wiped at her eyes. “Do I look like a mess?”

“You look brave,” he said simply.

That stopped her.

“No one’s ever said that to me,” she murmured.

“Well, they should,” he replied, standing up and offering her a tissue. “Because it’s true.”

She accepted the tissue and dabbed at her eyes. “Thanks for not freaking out. For not making it a big scene.”

He smiled. “You did that yesterday when you fought off a man in a tea stall like a superhero. Guess I owed you one.”

They both laughed again, softer this time. A quiet understanding had formed between them—something stronger than just attraction or coincidence.

He walked over to his desk and retrieved her file, then returned and handed it to her. “You still want to go through the accounts? Or should we just play Uno instead?”

She grinned. “Tempting. But I think I’ve caused enough chaos for one day.”

He nodded. “Alright. Let’s take a breather. No work talk. Just… peace.”

They moved back to the table with their tea, this time sitting beside each other. The earlier tension had melted, replaced by a fragile sense of calm. Their elbows brushed as they reached for their cups. Neither of them moved away.

“So,” Aditya said, breaking the comfortable silence, “do I call you Ms. Accountant now?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Only if you want me to call you Mr. Flirty-Boss in front of HR.”

He groaned. “Touché.”

She leaned in slightly. “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Appreciate that,” he said with mock formality. “Wouldn’t want to tarnish my very serious image.”

“You’re not serious,” she shot back.

“I’m totally serious.”

“You quote movie lines during board meetings.”

“Only the good ones.”

They chuckled again. For a moment, the world was okay. Complicated—but okay.

As the afternoon sun dipped lower, casting a warm golden hue across the office floor, Aditya glanced at Diksha beside him. Her laughter had returned, though it still carried a faint trace of something unspoken. He didn’t press. For now, it was enough that she was smiling again. But deep down, he knew this was only the beginning. There was more to her story—more to understand, more to protect. And he would be there, every step of the way. Whatever shadows followed her, she wouldn’t face them alone anymore.