Rohan and Isha OS con't | un-kahi baatein | rishta.com

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He walked ten minutes earlier into Rishta on a Friday morning – the earliest he’s come to work for their business. As decided by Isha since exactly a week ago – he had to come to work early from now on as a form of making up to her for starting a major fight and even thinking of leaving Rishta. What did he get himself to? It wasjust a blessing coming in around lunch time or whenever he wished and leaving whenever he felt – and now, his life had taken a 360 turn with coming in on time and staying until full working hours – he thought with a wry chuckle walking up to reception.

“Hey, ‘morning Sally! How do you do this fine morning?!”

“ good morning, Rohan Sir. Good, thank you. Aur aap?! Are wah sir, you have come right on time for the week. How are you coping?” She pulled a sad face.She knew how troublesome it could be for him to start getting up extra early,spotting his dark circles. Isha madam, did good.

Chuckling, “Oh, Sally please don’t ask huh. I know what you’re trying to do –it’s not funny. In desperate need for a coffee right about now.”

Sally giggled in her cute way, and said “Rohan Sir, I’m not making fun. Just proud of you for coming on time so far. Keep up with the good work. “

“ I know, eh. Only for stupid Isha. Is she in yet?” Earning a glare for Sally for his mock retort.

“No sir, not yet”

Odd, he wondered. She left earlier yesterday too, citing an emergency and had to be someone. She has been strict about following her coming on time rule and this was on her rarest occasions where he popped in before her – patting himself on the back for a pointer. He couldn’t wait for Sally for himself even to tell her – would love to see that expression on her face.

He wondered if she wasn’t feeling well or something was up – she has barely missed a day at work. Taking the stairs, he tried calling her and yet it went to her voice mail.


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She made her way into her office at Rishta after lunch time, halfway past one pm – her head still throbbingwith a heavy dull pain, body ache, and scratchy throat. She could barely movethis morning with a throbbing migraine and ache within legs and didn’t evenrealize when she went back to sleep and woke up around eleven am to get ready as quickly as she could and downed an advil with a glass of orange juice and half a banana. She felt like throwing up as she took a seat, already exhausted five minutes into work. She had a meeting with a important client in an hour as they were supposed to go out to a dinning place and discuss marketing strategies with a potential client they were taking on board - along with a casual meet up with an official client of just getting know basic information before her official meet up with other prospective clients next week. She insisted they meet outside as she had to leave right from their into town urgently. And here she was, her bad health catching up with her delaying her schedule as she had been pulling lighteners for the past couple days for a business research paper and blog entry she had to sent in for a sponsor company wanting to work with them which were more than half way done and yet still more to go to be submitted before Sunday.

Due to the staying up all night, messed up schedule, barely anything in her system, lack of and the monsoons – she was struck. Oh, how was she going to squeeze in so much with her health killing her – wanting to throw up her nonexistent breakfast and barely anything in her system.

Downing her glass of water, she ringed in one of the patrons to bring her coffee. She had under an hour to work to get through her last minute research strategy and she had to make it happen.
_

“Hey Loser! Way to grace us with your presence this early in the morning. Wow.”A voice broke ending in a whoosing whistle, in distracting her from her thought process as she cont’d typing out her document. Oh great, now she had to bear him upon all the other things. Rolling her eyes, while still engrossed in her work, she con’t with her work nonetheless.

Five seconds later, he cont’d the walking into the spacious office and took seat, slightly frowning. ‘what was up with her? Ignoring him while strutting in half day later and slight treatment attitude. Nice one Ms. Isha Mirchandani – nicely played.He wondered if he did something and not finding a reason, he adjusted it wasn't him as usual but something else. Something was definitely off.
Gazing on her with a steady focus, he took in her hair done up in a messy, yet casual bun. Wide, black chic frame perched on her nose – gracing her face and overall giving off a chic, smarty look. A sleek white tee shirt tucked into navy plazzo pants. No jewelry and bare-faced which looked sullen and wearied down as she gave a glare type look just as he sat down, still ignoring him nonetheless. Something was definitely up she closely focused on her hunched,slouchy posture, spotting dark circles which were more prominent, legs crossed in her spacious leather chair.

“Okay, good afternoon to you too Ms. Mirchandi. All okay? It isn’t all wise you know giving your partner a silent treatment after you walk in way too late. Who pissed you off so badly, huh?”He followed up a notch, with his cutting continuation of sarcasm.

Three seconds in, still no cut back smart reply. Dang, she must be really pissed. Though she looked a shade down her usual complexion and between sullen, sad, and annoyed – another of his sarcastic remark dying in his throat and his thoughts trailed to sometime last week. He's been trying – albeit a little over the top – to get back to his normal spirit and yet, somewhat during every other his thoughts have been traveling back to that,‘that’ moment that he’s trying to keep hidden within. Not sure about hidden,but definitely ignoring is as part of his stupidity, lack of ignorance, and certainly at no cost giving himself more than five minutes to think about it.

Shaking his head, he softly muttered – “are you okay, isha?” leaning forward a bit of to her glass table, he wondered with his gaze back on her.

She heard his question as she was on the roll to not pay attention to him at the moment, under a crucial deadline, his voice under down many notches in the softest wonder – reserved for her lately. More so, only thrice since last weekend a long while ago between the time they met in college since now – he’s done-it a couple of times until it may its way back last week – during his secretive pranks, moments of talk and jokes that only they knew of. She thought she misheard him last week, but through the jotting down she remembered he used a while back during their fight one week and three days ago over such stupidity she doesn’t want to remember again– during a client’s courthouse wedding arrangement.

“So?”
“So?!” he scoffed back, haughtily with his shades on, light scruff on his face. Looking pretty handsome.’ White button down with navy cargo pants –wanting to slap this attitude of his face.
Swallowing, she gathered her thoughts under his gaze penetrating through his shades, she could tell. And feel.
“Please… don’t leave. Please, Ro…” She pleaded, softly – nerves penetrating hersystem, turning incoherent, nervous, and hopeful. She had to get him back. Shestill had a day.
She moved her gaze up, ever so slight to see his adam’s apple bobbed as heprobably swallowed as his jaw tensed, his nerve ticking at her words.

God, what was she thinking. He’s probably gonna furious at her again, starting this again when she wouldn’t agree with his point of view. She would stand her ground and convince him still – the afternoon sun gazing on them, intensely – a bit of breeze passing through as her side bangs left her ear as she put them behind her ear again.

He noticed her action – wondering he liked her side bangs. Suited her face which she usually had pinned back regularly, in her ponytail, or rarely casual today– with his elbow length hair which she had brought over her right shoulder – a little casually curled at the ends, giving her an ever softa aura. She looked great, at times where very subtly she'll put a little effort with her dark navy dress falling under beneath her knees, tinniest sequins outlining slight v-neck she only opted for this occasion outside of work, partially with mini diamond studs she owned. She’d wring and twist her hands when she was really nervous and apprehensive, and she was doing the same, he noticed –twisting her middle finger with the ring – playing with it constantly.
He considered her plea, noticing her barely whispered nick name she used for him at the rarest times and this was one of them.
“Please, Please… don’t. don’t go” Her gaze drifting to the parking lot unable to meet his gaze.
“Please don’t leave me.” She uttered in a soft notch, tearing misting her eyes,halfway trickling down. No, she would absolutely not cry in a parking lot.

He clenched his jaw again, taking in a deep breath. God, her tear was his undoing, increasing his guilt and he wouldn’t do this her. One of the rarest time, she ever pleaded this much.
He wouldn’t leave her. He was just going someplace else. How could she even- ?
Exhaling, he took a step forward – “Look Isha, I’m not –“ he spoke in the same softest voice that cameout the rarest times - about to cast his reply in her favour letting her knowhe wouldn’t be leaving her and he might reconsider – the depth his words on histongue as her phone ringtone interrupted our bubble, taking in the loser's name.
Muttering an internal curse, he shook his head and left, turning his back onher, while an apology sat on hers, wondering the unsaid.

_

The bittersweet fog of thought leaving her, as she lifted her gaze towardshim taking in his softest gaze – his dark brown orbs and those lick lashes, alight shave of a day and a half ago grazing his face, his white tee paired witha dove gray blazer and dark gray pants – and that voice of his reduced so lowto match her mood – but more so, igniting a flutter within her; one just fromher memory.

She swallowed a reply trying to shut down her unusual thoughts – even moreso,hazy ones from a week and couple days ago – plaguing her fuzzy memory while shewas drunk. Her innihibition, her fears, her wayward thoughts, traces of hurt,betrayel, lost likeness towards someone turned as restentment – all of itbeared all open and wide in front of this man – of 8 years into her life – her hiringpartner, turned colllegue, secret sharer, annoying and lazy late comer, amusingand thoughtful, and a best friend all rolled into one.

A hot sigh leaving her, she wouldn’t go there. Wouldn’t trust her memories asyet all foggy, unclear, and not put together. She was afraid to spent timethinking. To ask and wonder. To her heart. To him. She wouldn’t take it – if hewasn’t serious enough regarding this. Her. Them.

another sigh. Abrupting taking a break of typing – her thoughts merged and engulfed by him. He’s been in her thoughts lately since he decided to come back for real this time. Or else, she would in seriousness – murder him. Figuratively or physically. Not sure. She couldn’t handle it again.

She shook her head from side to side in a no, swallowing to clear the phlegm building in her throat. – remembering his question and how he stretched her ‘I’into a double ‘ee’ at certain times, like these, she wondered fondly. Clearing her throat, she took a sip of water again. Her latte just about half way done, forgotten,cold.

“No … not re – really. Not sure. I – I don't know.” She sighed stuttering, coming out sand paper scratchy and weird, and frustrated. She barely ever stuttered. Whether she was flustered due to these odd feelings or sickness she couldn’t tell.

He could feel the un-sureness and frustration ringing off her – unsteadiness him little. Maybe it was the pressure of work or she wasn’t feeling as great –her head in her hands.

Going over to her around her rectangular desk, he turned her around gazing down at her and looking at her laptop screen – in the middle of her report he couldtell.

He offered her his hand to take and helped her in an upright position and just midway – she started to lightly sway toward the crease of her desk, her sanding seeking out the support of the desk while he softly grabbed her elbow and upper arm.

“Hey, you okay? You don’t look as good. ” He repeated, even softer bending slightly in the process to her level, kinda worried – taking in her flushed colour, midly cold hands.
She barely shook her head, sighing – “c’mon, let’s go over to the couch” wanting to offer her a little break.

“What’s wrong Isha? Please, say something.” Taking them over to the velvetydark gray toned couch which looked great and outshined her office in sunlightand glow. “Did I do something?”

Her gaze downwards, she nodded again in negative. It was his turn to sigh. “Please,I would need to hear it in words, yaar.”

clearing her throat, she sighed. “it’s nothing, Rohan. Kaam ka pressure. There’s just way too many things due today. You know…”

“I know yaar. I have seen you handling it. It’s something else right that’s inflicting it. Why are you so stressed? Tabhiyat nahi theek, haina?”

“Nahi, aisi baat nahi hai. I’m fine. It’s no-“

“don’t you dare say it’s nothing. Please say something, so I could help you out.” He brought out his hand on her upper arm where her sleeve ended as a way of soothing affection –which stilled her response for a second taking in his warm affection.

“It’s just the stress and barely any time. Nothing I couldn’t handle. And –“
“not feeling well.” He answered. “What is it? Tell me now.” Just as she opened her mouth – she closed it. “I don’t wanna hear nothing for the umpteenth time. Is – is uncle okay?”

“just a really bad migraine and sore throat. Sluggish, ache all over – but I’m okay. A little better. I took advil. Had a shitty morning and that’s why I was - you know…”

“Late.” He lightly chuckled for her. In all seriousness, “Isha – take a day. You really shouldn’t be doing this. It’s okay. I’ll handle it. You need to take care of yourself.” After a beat, “is that why you left a little early too? Cuz of the cold?”

she nodded in agreement. “No, it’s okay. I’ve got this. I need to –“ she wondered about her report needing to finish almost the last bit as she had about twenty five minutes left.

“I’m serious. I’ll handle it. “

cont'd.