“Her Silence, His Storm”

The city skyline stretched out before Kabir Malhotra, all steel and glass and cold ambition. He stood by the window of his office, the weight of the day pressing down on his shoulders, but his mind was elsewhere—trapped in a memory he couldn’t seem to shake.

It had been five years. Five years since he had last seen Sia Kashyap. Five years since her laughter had echoed through his life like a quiet melody. He should have moved on—he told himself that every day. And yet, here she was, back in his world, and he couldn’t ignore the way her presence stirred something in him that he thought he had buried long ago.

The deal didn’t surprise him. Business was business, and he had always known the Kashyaps were struggling. But the alliance—this marriage—had caught him off guard. He’d expected another name, another face. Someone… anyone but her.

Sia Kashyap. The girl who had once made his world feel alive and then had vanished like a ghost, leaving nothing behind but questions and half-finished sentences.

He remembered the first time he’d heard her name linked to the deal. A meeting at his family’s estate, the words spoken so casually they might have been discussing the weather.

“Kashyap ki beti… Sia Kashyap. She’ll be part of the arrangement.”

He’d felt the air leave his lungs, a punch he hadn’t seen coming. But he’d masked it with a smile, a nod. He was good at that—pretending.

When he finally saw her again, standing in that sunlit conference room with her chin lifted and her eyes cold, it felt like a wound he hadn’t realized was still bleeding.

He’d wanted to talk to her, to reach across the table and demand an explanation. Why she had disappeared. Why she had cut every tie, every word. He’d searched for her in every friend’s circle they once shared—Raghav, Mihir, even Avira—but it was as if she had wiped him out of her life entirely.

And now, here she was, looking at him like he was nothing more than another obstacle to be faced.

That night, Kabir couldn’t sleep. He sat at the edge of his bed, the contract between their families heavy in his hands. Outside, the city’s lights blurred into a haze, but all he saw was her.

He remembered how she used to smile at him—soft, hesitant, like she was always holding something back. He remembered how she’d trusted him with her fears, her dreams. How he’d promised her once—long before any of this—that he’d never let her face the world alone.

And yet, here they were. Strangers in a room full of memories.

He clenched his fists, the paper crumpling in his hands. Why did her silence hurt more than her anger would have? Why did her refusal to even look at him feel like betrayal?

The next day, he decided he couldn’t let it go. If she wouldn’t give him answers, he’d find them himself.

He found her in the office garden, her saare caught in the wind, her face turned away as if she couldn’t bear to see him.

“Sia,” he said softly.

She stiffened, but didn’t turn.

“Sia,” he repeated, firmer this time. “Talk to me.”

She didn’t move, didn’t speak. The silence was a wall he couldn’t climb.

“You can’t pretend I don’t exist,” he said, his voice rough. “You can’t erase everything we had.”

Finally, she turned, her eyes hard and bright.

“I’m not pretending,” she said quietly. “There’s nothing to erase, Kabir.”

The words hit him like a slap. Nothing to erase. As if the years they’d shared had meant nothing to her. As if he was nothing more than a chapter she’d chosen to skip.

“You’re lying,” he said, the anger rising in his chest. “You’re lying to yourself, Sia. Tell me why you’re doing this. Why are you pushing me away?”

She shook her head, her expression shuttered. “There’s nothing to say.”

“Don’t do this,” he whispered, stepping closer. “I know you, Sia. I know you’re scared, but you don’t have to fight this alone.”

For a moment, he saw it—the flicker of pain in her eyes, the tremor in her breath. But then it was gone, replaced by cold determination.

“I’m not scared,” she said. “I’m done.”

He watched her walk away, her steps measured, her shoulders squared. And for the first time, Kabir understood that this wasn’t just about the deal. This was about her—about the walls she had built around her heart and the parts of her she refused to let him see.

He closed his eyes, the memories flooding back. Her laughter. Her stubbornness. The way she used to look at him like he was the only person in the world.

He thought he had let her go. But seeing her again, feeling the sharp ache of her indifference, he realized the truth.

He hadn’t moved on. He hadn’t healed. And now, he was about to marry a woman who wouldn’t even look him in the eye.

Back in his office, he poured himself a drink, his mind a whirlwind of betrayal and longing. The deal was done—on paper, at least. But in his heart, nothing was settled.

He wondered if she felt the same. If she lay awake at night, remembering the way his hand had fit around hers. If she ever thought about how it had felt to be his, even for a little while.

He told himself he didn’t care. That this was just another business arrangement. But the lie tasted bitter on his tongue.

As he stared out at the city lights, Kabir swore to himself:

“If she wants to pretend this is nothing, fine. Let her. But I’ll make her see the truth. I’ll make her remember what we were. And I’ll make her admit that no matter how far she runs, she can’t escape what’s still between us.”