Chapter Twenty-Three: The Monday He Called Me Jaan Again
967 Words
Pakhi's POV
Monday mornings had always felt like a weight on her shoulders — emails stacked high, team calls, unresolved tasks from Friday haunting her like shadows. But this Monday felt strangely… light.
Her eyes fluttered open to the soft chime of her phone.
She reached out groggily, blinking at the brightness, and there it was — the message that instantly replaced her sleep-heavy haze with a rush of butterflies.
“Good morning, meri jaan. You in my dream was the softest version of happiness I’ve ever felt. I think… I want more of that. Of you.”
Pakhi stared at it for a full minute, heart thudding in her chest.
Meri jaan. Again.
She hugged the phone to her chest and let out a sound that was somewhere between a giggle and a sigh. Her cheeks were already flushed, and she hadn't even replied yet.
“Rehaan Shaikh,” she muttered under her breath, shaking her head. “What are you doing to me?”
By the time she’d showered and dressed for the day, her mood had transformed completely. She wore a pale blue kurta with delicate white embroidery, her hair tied in a half-bun, minimal kajal lining her eyes. The usual Monday grumpiness had been replaced by something far more dangerous — anticipation.
She sat at her desk with her first cup of masala chai and mentally prepared herself for the day ahead. Her team had a review call with Rehaan’s team — nothing out of the ordinary, but just the thought of seeing his name on her screen again made her stomach flip.
She reminded herself, it was a professional call. Teams. Agenda. Timelines.
Not… flirty late-night whispers and jaan messages.
The meeting began at 11:30 sharp.
As the Teams window opened and participants began joining, she felt her posture straighten unconsciously. Rehaan joined with his camera off — as always — but his voice filtered in like a warm breeze on a winter morning.
“Good morning, everyone,” he said smoothly. “Hope your weekend was good.”
Pakhi smiled. She could tell he was in a good mood.
The meeting proceeded like usual — updates, client asks, clarifications. He addressed everyone, his tone perfectly neutral. He even asked her a question midway through:
“Pakhi, could you share the revised timeline you mentioned in last week’s note?”
She complied — efficiently, crisply. She noticed the slight pause when he said her name. No one else would have noticed it. But she did.
And for a second, she let herself imagine what it would be like if she could see him while he spoke. What expression he wore when he listened to her.
What he looked like… when he smiled.
After the call, her team logged off one by one, and just as she began to close her laptop — her phone lit up again.
“Stay. I need to ‘discuss’ something.”
She snorted softly.
Sure you do, Mr. Client.
She clicked back into the Teams chat and waited. Seconds later, he rejoined on a voice-only call.
“Hey,” his voice dropped into something warmer, smoother. “You didn’t run away. I’m impressed.”
Pakhi rolled her eyes, grinning to herself. “I’m still billing this time, you know.”
“Ouch. You wound me, jaan.”
There it was again — jaan. He was saying it so often now, like it belonged between them.
She sighed dramatically. “What’s the work update you so urgently needed to discuss?”
“Oh yes, very urgent,” he said, mock serious. “I needed to tell you that your voice is unfairly distracting in meetings. I can’t focus when you talk.”
Her mouth fell open, half-laughing. “Rehaan!”
“What? I’m just giving you feedback. Very critical client feedback.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“And you’re beautiful,” he said, instantly and sincerely. “I can’t even see you, but I know it. I felt it last night. I saw it… even in a dream.”
She felt her face go warm, her heartbeat skittering all over again. “You and your dreams,” she mumbled.
“They’re all about you lately,” he replied, a bit softer. “This one was special though.”
“Tell me?” she asked before she could stop herself.
He chuckled. “You were running barefoot in the rain. Laughing. Wearing white. You pulled me under the trees and kissed me like the world was ending.”
She held her breath.
“I woke up smiling,” he said. “I’m still smiling.”
There was silence for a few seconds. Pakhi tried to find the right words. Anything that could match the intensity he offered her so easily.
But nothing came.
“You’re quiet,” he murmured.
“I don’t know what to say,” she admitted.
“You don’t have to say anything,” he replied gently. “Just don’t push me away again. I’ll wait. But don’t shut me out.”
Pakhi bit her lip.
So much inside her was warring. Her heart that was fluttering like a hummingbird’s wings. Her mind that reminded her of everything stacked against them — religion, distance, families, fear.
But in this moment… all she wanted was to stay in the warmth of his voice a little longer.
“Okay,” she whispered. “I won’t shut you out. Not today.”
He exhaled. “That’s enough for me.”
The call ended after another twenty minutes of teasing, work-talk, and a little bit of silence where neither of them wanted to disconnect.
And as she returned to her emails and her chai — now lukewarm — Pakhi realized one thing clearly:
Mondays weren’t so bad anymore.
- Writer
