Chapter Twenty-Seven: Stolen Moments in a Busy Day
789 Words
Rehaan’s POV
The morning haze hadn’t even fully cleared from his eyes when he first saw her — sleepy-eyed, half-curled up on her bed, cheeks glowing, and eyes… on him.
It took a second to register.
Another to smile.
And maybe one more to realize he had never felt this kind of warmth just from someone’s gaze before.
She had watched him sleep.
And she didn’t end the call.
A part of him — the Rehaan who usually guarded his emotions like a fortress — would’ve cringed at the thought. But this morning, he just felt… content.
"Good morning, bacha," he had whispered, and her reaction? Priceless.
That shy gasp, the way she tried to hide behind the pillow, how her fingers fiddled nervously with the hem of her night t-shirt — it was adorable. And it made something shift inside him, something soft and unguarded that had no intention of being tucked away again.
As he got ready for work, he found himself smiling like an i***t.
He hadn’t smiled like this in years.
He stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his shirt collar, then looked down at his phone.
“Looking good?” he murmured to his reflection, chuckling to himself.
He grabbed his phone and clicked a quick picture — slightly messy hair, shirt half-buttoned, a trace of morning stubble — and sent it to her.
“This count as CEO charm or do I look like I just barely survived the boardroom?”
She replied within a minute.
A picture.
A mirror selfie — soft yellow kurta, loosely tied bun, glasses slipping a bit on her nose. But it wasn’t the outfit that caught him. It was her face — unbothered, effortlessly graceful, and most of all, hers.
His heart stumbled.
Pakhi Sharma.
The girl who once introduced herself nervously on a call.
Now the woman who watched him sleep and smiled at his sleepy voice.
His phone pinged again.
Pakhi: Do I look like I have it together? Because I really don’t.
He replied instantly:
Rehaan: You look like my reason to smile today.
He didn’t care if that sounded cheesy. It was true. And her lack of a reply — just a heart emoji — was enough to keep his grin intact all the way to his car.
The morning flew by in the buzz of emails and back-to-back meetings. He kept a low profile in front of the team. Calm. Controlled. The same Rehaan everyone knew.
But beneath the surface, he checked his phone more times than he’d ever admit.
And there she was.
Pakhi: “Boss forgot his coffee?”
Attached was a picture of her own — a coffee cup with a sleepy doodle drawn on the lid.
He smirked, typing quickly beneath the table.
Rehaan: Had to skip it. Your morning voice woke me up better than caffeine. 😏
There was a long pause before she replied.
Pakhi: Stop flirting, Mr. Client. Some of us are trying to be professional.
Rehaan: Who said I’m flirting? I’m just being honest, meri jaan.
Followed by a wink emoji.
No reply.
He could almost hear her groan from here.
He returned to his meeting with a tiny victorious grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
By late afternoon, both were drowning in deliverables and deadlines. But even amidst chaos, their messages found each other — like secret whispers between the pages of an otherwise mundane day.
Pakhi: Two more calls left. Save me 😩
Rehaan: Sending a virtual rescue mission. ETA: 6:30 PM. Codename: Jaan’s Smile.
She didn’t reply this time.
But her read receipt was enough.
He was learning her rhythm now — when she’d be too caught up to respond, when she’d take a pause to sneak a glance at his texts, and when she’d silently smile, even if she didn’t say a word.
And those silences — they were full. Never empty.
Later that night, as he left the office and walked toward his car, the sky bruised in hues of purple and gold, he played their morning call in his head again.
The way she had looked at him. Like she saw him.
Not the successful client.
Not the responsible son.
Just… Rehaan. Human. Tired. Flawed. Soft.
And she stayed.
He leaned back into the car seat and closed his eyes.
His fingers hovered over the keyboard again.
Rehaan: Hey. I missed that laugh today.
Three dots appeared. Disappeared.
Appeared again.
Finally, her reply came.
Pakhi: It’ll be back tomorrow. If you promise to say “good morning, bacha” again.
His heart did a slow flip.
He didn’t need anything else.
Not tonight.
- Writer
