YOU LIVE IN MY HEART

2.Shadows of the Past

The office lights hummed softly in the dead of night, casting long

shadows across the empty cubicles of CyberPeak Solutions. It was

well past midnight, and Ananya Mehra was the only one left, buried

in a mountain of code reviews for an urgent project deadline. Her

eyes burned from staring at the screen, and a yawn escaped her

lips as she stretched in her chair. The glow of her monitor

illuminated her face, highlighting the faint lines of exhaustion.

Needing a break, Ananya opened her desk drawer, rummaging for

a snack or perhaps her forgotten energy bar. Her fingers brushed

against something smooth and forgotten—a small, faded

photograph tucked away in the back. She pulled it out, her breath

catching as she stared at it under the desk lamp. It was from her

college days: a group shot at a campus festival, with her standing

awkwardly in the corner, smiling shyly. Next to her was a young

man, tall and handsome, with the same sharp features and piercing

hazel eyes that now belonged to her new CEO. Vihaan Kapoor. Or

at least, someone who looked uncannily like him.

Her heart skipped a beat. No, it can't be... But the resemblance was

undeniable. The photo trembled in her hand as memories flooded

back, pulling her into the past like a relentless tide. Three years earlier

, at Riverside University... The campus was alive

with the chatter of students, the air thick with the scent of blooming

jasmine and street food from nearby vendors. Ananya Mehra back

then was a far cry from the confident IT professional she had

become. Slim and skinny, with a face that carried the sharpness of

someone who skipped meals to study, she wore simple, old-

fashioned salwar kameez outfits handed down from her elder sister.

Her hair was tied in a tight bun, glasses perched on her nose, and

she clutched her textbooks like a shield. Intelligent beyond her

years, she aced every exam, but her unassuming appearance made

her a target for mockery. "Look at her, the walking library," sneered

one girl from the popular group, as Ananya hurried past the

cafeteria. The group—three guys and two girls—lounged at their

usual table, the center of campus attention. Karan, the loudmouth,

chuckled. "Bet she hasn't had a date in her life." Vihaan Kapoor, the

group's unspoken leader, leaned back in his chair, his sharp

features relaxed into a smirk. Tall and athletic, with a charm that

drew people in, he was the guy every girl whispered about. But

today, his friends were in a mischievous mood. "Hey, Vihaan," said

Rohan, the second guy, grinning slyly. "Bet you can't get her to fall

for you. Propose to her, play boyfriend for a bit— just to pass the

time. Loser buys drinks for a month." The girls, Priya and Sneha, giggled. "

Yeah, Vihaan. Show us your

magic on the nerd queen."

Vihaan rolled his eyes, but a spark of challenge lit in his hazel eyes.

"Fine, you're on. Watch and learn."

It started innocently enough—a "accidental" bump in the library, a

shared note during class. Ananya couldn't believe it when Vihaan

started talking to her, his smiles warm and his attention undivided.

"You're different," he'd say, and she'd blush, her heart fluttering. A

guy like him—popular, handsome, from a wealthy family—

interested in her? It felt like a dream.

For three years, Vihaan played the role to perfection in front of his

group. Dates at the campus canteen, walks by the river, stolen

moments in the library. He'd report back to his friends with

exaggerated stories, laughing it off as a joke. But inside, something

shifted. Ananya's intelligence wasn't just bookish; she had a depth,

a kindness that cut through his facade. She listened to his dreams,

challenged his ideas, and saw the real him beneath the charm. He

found himself attached, drawn to her purity in a way that scared

him. But admit it? To a girl who didn't fit the image—skinny, plain,

in outdated clothes? Shame held him back. His "real" life included

Sneha, the glamorous girlfriend who fit the mold.

Ananya, oblivious to the bet, fell hard. She poured her heart into

the relationship, believing in the fairy tale. "How did I get so lucky?"

she'd whisper during their quiet moments. The last day of college

arrived like a storm. The farewell party

buzzed with music and laughter under fairy lights strung across the

quad. Ananya, nervous but determined, approached Vihaan with a

single red rose in her hand. Her voice trembled as she spoke.

"Vihaan, these years... they've been everything to me. I love you.

Will you... will you marry me someday?"

The group, hidden nearby, burst into view. Sneha snatched the

rose from Ananya's hand, crushing it under her heel with a cruel

laugh. "Marry you? Oh, honey, this was all a bet! Vihaan's been

playing you for laughs. Look at yourself—who would want that?"

The laughter erupted—Karan, Rohan, Priya, all howling. Ananya's

face crumpled, tears streaming as humiliation burned through her.

Vihaan stood frozen, his heart twisting. He wanted to stop them, to

pull her away, but the pressure of the group won. He forced a

laugh, the sound hollow in his ears. "Yeah... good one, right?"

Inside, it killed him. Her broken expression haunted him as she fled

the party, sobs echoing in the night.Back in the present, Ananya

set the photo down on her desk, her fingers tracing the faded

edges. After that day, depression had swallowed her whole. A year

in and out of hospitals, therapy sessions blurring into one another,

rebuilding herself piece by piece. She'd transformed—gained

confidence, updated her style, buried the pain under layers of

professionalism.

Vihaan, meanwhile, had vanished from her life. He'd left the

country for higher studies and a high-flying career, but the guilt

lingered. In quiet moments, he'd search online, wonder where she

was, longing for the girl who'd seen his soul. Little did he know,

fate had brought them back under the same roof.

Ananya shook her head, shoving the photo back into the drawer.

It's just a coincidence, she told herself. Vihaan Kapoor is a common

name. And that chapter is closed.

But as she returned to her work, the past whispered, refusing to

stay buried.