Unbreakable After You

Episode 16 : Expectations

(Kayish's POV)

The city glittered beneath the floor-to-ceiling windows of my apartment.

It was well past eleven.

Another successful week.

Another campaign approved.

Another Friday that had turned into Saturday without me noticing.

The bedroom was dimly lit.

A woman lay asleep beside me, wrapped in the white comforter, completely unaware that I was already awake.

I glanced at the clock.

11:18 P.M.

I never slept much.

Years of running a company had trained my body to survive on a few hours of sleep.

My phone vibrated on the bedside table.

Mom Calling...

I stared at the screen for a second before answering.

"Hello, Mom."

"Finally!" Her voice carried the familiar mixture of authority and concern. "Do you know how many times I've called you?"

"I was asleep."

"You? Sleeping before midnight?"

"I was tired."

There was a brief silence.

"I know you're lying."

A faint smile crossed my face.

She knew me too well.

"When are you coming home?" she asked.

"I was there three days ago."

"I mean for dinner. Your father will also be home."

I walked toward the balcony, sliding the glass door shut behind me.

The cool night breeze hit my face.

"Is there a business discussion?"

"No."

"Then?"

"I've invited someone."

I closed my eyes.

Here we go again.

"Mom..."

"Listen first."

"I already know what you're going to say."

"You don't."

"I do."

"It's Mr. Malhotra's daughter."

I sighed.

"She's well educated."

Silence.

"She has completed her MBA in London."

More silence.

"Their family owns three manufacturing companies."

"That's impressive."

"So?"

"So... congratulations to them."

"Kayish!"

"What?"

"You are thirty-two."

"I know my age."

"When do you plan on getting married?"

"When I want to."

"And when will that be?"

"I don't know."

"You never know!"

Her voice rose in frustration.

"Every proposal I bring... you reject."

"You don't reject them."

"I do."

"You don't even meet them properly."

"Because I don't want to."

She let out a long breath.

"You cannot spend your entire life alone."

"I've managed quite well so far."

"For now."

"I prefer peace over unnecessary complications."

"Marriage isn't a complication."

"For many people... it is."

"Not if you marry the right person."

I leaned against the balcony railing, looking at the endless stream of headlights below.

"The right person doesn't exist."

"You've convinced yourself of that."

"I've experienced enough to know better."

"You've experienced women who never mattered."

I didn't answer.

She continued more gently.

"Physical attraction ends."

"I know."

"Wealth fades."

"I know."

"But companionship..."

"Mom."

"...cannot be replaced."

I rubbed my forehead.

"This conversation isn't going anywhere."

"Because you never let it."

She paused before speaking again.

"Your father was exactly like you."

That caught my attention.

"He believed work was enough."

Another pause.

"And one day he realised he'd spent years building a business while forgetting to build a family."

I remained quiet.

"My marriage wasn't perfect, Kayish."

She rarely admitted that.

"But we stayed."

Her voice softened.

"We learned."

"We compromised."

"We became partners."

I knew what she was trying to say.

Love wasn't instant.

It was built.

But I had spent my life watching powerful marriages built on convenience, business alliances, and appearances.

Most of them looked perfect from the outside.

Very few were happy behind closed doors.

"I'll think about it," I said.

"You always say that."

"And?"

"You never do."

I smiled faintly.

"Good night, Mom."

"Come for lunch tomorrow."

"I'll try."

"No."

She corrected herself.

"You'll come."

The call disconnected.

I stood there for several minutes, staring at the city.

Behind me, I heard movement.

The woman had woken up.

"Everything okay?" she asked softly.

"Yes."

"Family?"

"My mother."

She smiled knowingly.

"Marriage conversation?"

I looked at her.

"You guessed."

She laughed.

"My mother does the same."

I picked up my shirt from the chair and began buttoning it.

"You're leaving already?"

"I have work tomorrow."

"It's Sunday."

"I still have work."

She didn't stop me.

Neither of us expected her to.

That was the understanding from the beginning.

No promises.

No expectations.

No future.

I picked up my watch and slipped it onto my wrist.

As I reached the door, she called out one last time.p

"Will I see you again?"

I turned back with the same answer I always gave.

"If our schedules match."

It wasn't cruel.

It was honest.

She smiled with quiet acceptance.

"I figured."

I left.

The elevator descended in silence.

People often assumed men like me avoided commitment because we enjoyed freedom.

They were wrong.

Freedom had nothing to do with it.

I simply had no interest in building something I had never truly believed in.

Relationships ended.

People changed.

Promises broke.

Business was predictable.

Numbers made sense.

Emotions didn't.

As I drove through the sleeping city, I found myself thinking about Monday's meetings, campaign deadlines, and the marketing department.

Work.

Exactly where my mind belonged.

Everything else could wait.