Scene 1: The Plant, The Past, and the Painful Apology
The office buzzed with its usual rhythm. Keyboards clacked, phones rang, and the aroma of coffee lingered faintly in the air. Aarohi, humming softly under her breath, clutched a small green potted plant—a peace lily with soft white blooms that looked like tiny whispers of peace. Attached to the pot was a folded piece of paper. Inside, in her careful handwriting, she had written: "For your desk, sir. A little green to brighten your day."
She tiptoed into Rithvik Veerayut's office while he was out and placed the plant on the corner of his meticulously clean desk. Her smile was small, hopeful—innocent. Then she quietly walked out.
Moments later, a loud crash echoed through the office. The sound of something shattering.
Everyone froze.
Heads turned.
Desks were abandoned.
Aarav, Pim, and others rushed toward the source of the commotion—Rithvik's office.
There stood Rithvik, his chest heaving, brows knitted so tightly they formed an almost permanent line of thunderous disapproval. Shards of the broken pot scattered across the marble floor, the plant's roots splayed like veins torn from the earth.
He pointed toward the mess, his voice sharp and cutting. "Who the hell placed this here? Who dared to put this on my desk without permission?!"
Everyone exchanged glances, paralyzed. Silence.
Aarohi, heart thudding like a frightened drum, stepped forward. "It... it was me, sir. I just thought—"
He marched toward her, his eyes blazing with something far deeper than anger. Rage, yes—but also a hurt that sat far behind his gaze, like an old wound suddenly torn open.
"You just thought?" he echoed coldly. "You're an intern. An assistant. That's all. Learn to mind your place. You are here to work. Not decorate my space. Not play friends. You're not here to cross boundaries. One more stunt like this, and I will not hesitate to kick you out."
Each word struck like a lash. Her shoulders shrunk back with each syllable. Her eyes stung. Her lips parted, but no sound escaped.
He didn't wait for a reply. He turned sharply and walked away, his stride rigid with fury.
The office remained silent. No one dared speak. Aarohi stood there, small, wilted, like the peace lily she had meant as a gesture of warmth.
---
Scene 2: Rooftop Reflection
Aarohi climbed the stairs to the rooftop slowly, dragging her feet. Her heart was heavy, her eyes still damp. The cool breeze offered no comfort.
She reached the top and sat by the edge, hugging her knees, staring at the distant skyline.
Why did it hurt so much?
She had only wanted to make him smile.
The words repeated in her head:
"Mind your place. Just an assistant. I'll kick you out."
Each phrase dug into her like invisible thorns.
She wiped her tears quickly when she heard footsteps. One by one, her colleagues appeared—Aarav, Pim, and others, each bringing something small. Aarav had two cups of chai. Pim had a silly paper mustache stuck to her face.
"Hey, Miss Sunshine," Pim chirped. "What's the difference between a plant and Rithvik?"
Aarohi looked at her blankly.
Pim grinned. "One grows with love, the other growsl with hate."
Aarav rolled his eyes. "That was so bad it almost made me cry."
They all tried. They really did. More jokes, some half-hearted dance moves, silly stories from the pantry.
But Aarohi didn't laugh. Her smile was tight. Her heart was still aching.
"Why was he so angry? Just because of a plant?" she finally whispered.
The group exchanged glances. Pim was the first to speak.
"It's... not just a plant. It's a painful memory."
Aarav sighed. "His ex-girlfriend once gave him the same plant."
Aarohi's eyes widened slightly. "Oh."
"He loved her a lot," Pim added. "He was a different man back then. Smiled more. Laughed easily."
Aarav nodded. "And then she left. For money, people say. Used him. Cheated on him. Took his trust and shattered it."
Aarohi pressed her palm against her chest. The pain he felt—it made sense now. Her innocent gesture had reopened a scar.
"Don't take it personally," Aarav added gently. "He's not a bad guy. Just... broken. We're all waiting for the old Rithvik to come back."
They left one by one, leaving her alone with her thoughts again.
Aarohi hugged herself. Did I really make such a mistake? Did I trigger a memory so painful? Her mind buzzed with conflict.
But I didn't know... How could I know? Still, I should have asked. I should've been more careful. I should've...
Tears streamed silently as the sky turned darker.
---
Scene 3: The Apology
Everyone had gone home. The office was quiet.
Aarohi sat at her desk, fidgeting with her dupatta, glancing toward Rithvik's office.
He's still working. Should I go? Say sorry? What if he gets angry again? What if he yells?
She clasped her hands together and whispered, "Shiva, help me. What do I do?"
Just then, her phone rang.
"Hello?" she answered, startled.
"What happened now?" her friend on the line asked.
"I made him angry. I want to say sorry, but... I'm scared."
The friend replied dramatically, "Straight walk into his office, go near him and—give him a kiss. Problem solved."
Aarohi froze. "What the hell?! I came to you for help, not disaster! He'll throw me off the building!"
"Then I'll catch you. In my arms. Slow motion. Bollywood style."
"OH GOD! Shiva, I asked you for help, and you sent me this clown?!" she cried, hanging up.
She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and walked toward Rithvik's office.
Knocking gently, she peeked in. "Sir... may I come in?"
Rithvik didn't look up. "Come in."
She stepped in slowly, standing awkwardly by his desk.
"Actually, sir... I wanted to say... I'm sorry. For this morning. I didn't mean to offend you. I understand I made a mistake. I won't do it again."
Rithvik finally looked up, eyes unreadable.
"You came here just to say sorry?"
She nodded, heart pounding.
He sighed. "It's okay. Just don't repeat it. You can go now."
He looked back at his screen.
Aarohi blinked. That was it?
She walked out, head low, then muttered to herself, "What just happened? Did I apologize to a wall? Haa... hooo... Oh Shiva, why am I falling for this man? You really have a strange sense of humor. Save your daughter, please."
---
Scene 4: Waiting for a Taxi
Outside, she waited for her taxi. The wind played with her hair. The city lights blurred through her tired eyes.
Her heart whispered all her thoughts aloud.
I didn't mean harm. I just wanted to bring something good. But I ended up hurting him. Maybe kindness isn't always welcome.
But then again, he didn't say I was wrong forever. He said "It's okay." Maybe... maybe that's a start?
Her phone buzzed. It was a text from her friend:
"Still alive? Or flying off the roof?"
She chuckled weakly.
"I survived. Barely."
As her taxi approached, she glanced up toward the office building's top floor. Where he still worked, alone. Behind that cold expression was pain. Behind his anger was a wound.
And for some reason, she thought, I want to be the one who helps him heal.
She didn't know why.
She just did.
Maybe, beneath her innocent eyes and soft smile, Aarohi carried her own strength—the strength to see past thorns and still choose to touch the flower.
Tomorrow, she would show him. Not with plants. Not with words. But by just being there. One day at a time.
---
Ending – Chapter 12:
Aarohi sat in the back seat of the taxi, staring blankly out the window as the city lights passed by like flickering memories. Her heart ached—not from what he said, but how he said it.
His words still echoed in her mind:
"You can go now."
She clutched her bag tighter on her lap, trying to fight the tears threatening to fall.
"Why does it hurt this much?"
"Why do I still want to see him smile?"
"Am I really that foolish?"
The taxi stopped at a red light.
She looked up at the sky. A lone tear slipped down her cheek.
"Lord Shiva… why him?" she whispered softly. "Why did I fall for a man who doesn't even look back?"
Her phone buzzed.
She blinked and looked down at the screen.
Unknown Number.
She hesitated. Her thumb hovered over the screen.
Finally… she answered.
"Hello?" she said softly, her voice exhausted.
A beat of silence.
Then a deep voice replied:
"Still crying?"
Her eyes widened.
Her body stiffened.
It was him. Rithvik Veerayut.
Her lips parted in disbelief.
"H-How do you—" she began, but he cut her off.
"Your taxi stopped right in front of my car."
She gasped and turned to look out the window.
Her breath caught.
There he was—just behind her taxi, sitting in his sleek black car, his eyes piercing through the glass as if they could see right into her soul.
"You should stop crying in taxis. It doesn't suit you," he said quietly.
Aarohi couldn't speak.
And then he added, voice even softer—
"Next time… if you want to cry… do it in front of me."
Her eyes welled up again—but this time, not from sadness.
Before she could reply, the light turned green.
His car turned right.
Her taxi went straight.
And he was gone.
But his words stayed with her.
"Cry in front of me…"
She clutched her chest and whispered,
"Rithvik…"
...