POV: Aaravi

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Three years is a long time.

Long enough to earn a degree, start a business, get your heart broken, and still somehow have the same person living rent-free in it.

Ashwin — Vice CEO of AS group of companies. — walked into the conference room like he was born to own it. Charcoal suit. A Rolex that didn’t shout wealth, just nodded to it. A stare so focused you’d think he was trying to solve national debt.

I stood just outside the glass partition, holding my portfolio and pretending to be here for something else. Anything else. But the truth was: I was addicted to watching him work.

The investor across the table was asking too many questions. Appa was starting to get impatient — I could tell by the way he crossed his legs and started twirling his pen. But Ashwin? Calm as ever.

“Mr. Patel, if I may,” he said, smoothly flipping a page. “We understand the concern about risk absorption. But if you compare our Q3 numbers with projected Q4 forecasts, you’ll see we’re already operating in a net-positive range.”

He handed a paper across the table. Sharp. I watched the investor glance at the sheet and then nod Slowly. That's it. Surrender to my baby.

That was Ashwin. Always winning with silence and facts.

Appa beamed.

“Ashwin, that was handled brilliantly,” he said once the meeting wrapped up. “You’ve got a natural instinct. Reminds me of me when I was your age.”

Ashwin offered a rare smile. “You’ve been a good teacher, uncle. I have learned from the best.

Ugh. Even his praise was humble.

I waited until everyone left.

He didn’t flinch when he saw me. Just slightly raised an eyebrow.

“Your fan club is outside,” I teased, walking in with a grin. “But I thought I’d have the exclusive backstage access.”

“I don’t do concerts,” he replied, picking up his watch.

“Pity. That was a killer performance in there. You basically seduced the investor with spreadsheets.”

He gave me a look. The kind that said don’t push it.

I walked closer. Touched his arm.

“appa’s impressed. I’m impressed. You’re basically the company’s charm boy now. Want to celebrate?”

“I have reports to finish.”

“We can do dinner. Just a quick drive. You love midnight drives. Right ashu!”

“I don’t love anything,” he said.

Then he looked down at my hand — still on his arm — and gently removed it.

No drama. No disgust. Just disinterest.

“Goodnight, Aaravi. Go and sleep.”

He walked away like I hadn’t just handed him my heart on a silver plate. Again.

---

By the time I reached Brewwitch, my cafe, I was furious.

Not at him. Not entirely.

At myself.

Three years. Three damn years since college. I had built the city’s most loved cafe chain, with ten branches and two international outlets opening soon. I had won awards. Built a name. Created a menu people posted online daily.

But still — I couldn’t stop chasing a man who clearly wanted to be unchased.

“You’re literally fuming, woman!” Rhea said as I tossed my tote bag behind the counter.

“Am I?”

“You get this weird vein on your forehead when you’re rejected. You know what? I named it ‘Ashwin.’”

I groaned. “You’re not helpful.”

She poured me an Americano and pushed it toward me. “So tell me! what happened now?”

“I told him he did a great job. That he impressed appa. He just… removed my hand like I had the plague.”

“Oof.” rhea pouted.

“I offered a drive. Dinner. I didn’t ask him to elope.”

Rhea grinned. “Maybe you should.”

“What?”

“Eloping. Might get his attention.”

“Rhea.”

She leaned forward on the counter. “Look, babe. I love you. But you’re playing too clean. Men like Ashwin? They need to feel something. You’ve been chasing him with feelings. I don't think he is a feeling type! He never do feelings.Try seduction.”

I blinked at her. “You mean —”

“Use the weapon baby. Your body. Your fire. Your confidence.”

“I don’t want to trap him.” I said clutching my hair.

“You’re not. You’re reminding him you’re a woman. Not just some lovesick ghost from college.”

I took a sip of coffee. Bitter. Like my life.

“And if he doesn’t respond?” I asked.

“Then you’ll know. At least you’ll know you tried everything.”

I stared at the steam rising from my cup. Images flickered — the way he used to look at other girls in college. The way he never once looked at me like that. Not once. Not even when I wore his favorite color. Not even when I became everything he respected.

“Okay,” I whispered.

Rhea looked up. “Okay what?”

“I’ll do it. I’ll seduce him.”

She squealed. “Oh my god, yes. Finally.”

I held up a finger. “On my terms. With my rules. And only because I need to know — once and for all — if there’s anything in him that can feel something for me.”

Rhea nodded solemnly. “And if there is…?”

“Then I won’t stop until he admits it.”

She raised her coffee. “To war.”

I r

aised mine. “To war.” I whispered.

This wasn’t about just love anymore.

It was about knowing if I could still be wanted.

By him.