Chapter 6: Status Updates

With Rohan’s hands-on guidance, I quickly became proficient as an assistant.

He was patient, explaining every detail, never raising his voice. I learned fast, determined to repay his kindness.

I got along better and better with my colleagues, sometimes even joining group dinners. Only Priya never attended any event I went to.

We shared jokes over chai, bonded over missed deadlines, and celebrated small victories together. But Priya kept her distance, always finding an excuse to leave early.

Recently, Priya landed a big client. That night, all the colleagues kept asking where she wanted to celebrate.

The office buzzed with excitement, everyone congratulating her. She accepted the praise with a tight smile, eyes flicking to me now and then.

Company rules: whoever lands a client chooses the restaurant.

It was a tradition—whoever scored the biggest deal got to pick the venue. I waited, curious to see what she’d choose.

Priya didn’t answer, her gaze haughty as she looked at me through the crowd.

Her silence spoke volumes. I met her eyes, offering a small smile, but she looked away, jaw set.

I smiled and told Rohan I was going for a facial and wouldn’t attend the celebration. I always treasured my face, so Rohan didn’t doubt me, just told me to wait for him after I was done.

He nodded, telling me to be careful and call if I needed anything. I left, feeling both relieved and uneasy.

I went to my usual beauty parlour. By the time I came out, it was past ten at night. My phone hadn’t made a sound.

The streets were quiet, shops closing one by one. I checked my phone—no missed calls, no new messages except for one.

Rohan hadn’t called, only sent a message two hours earlier.

His text was short, but caring: "I ordered Swiggy for you. Eat and wait there for me. Don’t run around."

"I ordered Swiggy for you. Eat and wait there for me. Don’t run around."

He’d even sent me a picture of the delivery receipt, just to be sure I’d believe him. I smiled, touched by his thoughtfulness.

I called, but Rohan’s phone went unanswered.

The ringtone echoed, but he didn’t pick up. I tried again, growing more anxious with each ring.

Then I couldn’t get through at all.

His phone switched off, straight to voicemail. I felt a knot of dread tighten in my chest.

I suddenly felt uneasy and immediately took an auto over.

I flagged down an auto, barely waiting for it to stop before jumping in. The driver grumbled about the late hour, but I promised him a good tip.

At the door of the private room, I took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

My hands shook as I turned the knob, bracing myself for what I might find. The muffled sounds of laughter and clinking glasses spilled out into the hallway.

My colleagues were surprised to see me. "Ananya, why are you here?"

They stared, mouths open, surprised by my sudden appearance. I forced a smile, scanning the room for Rohan.

"Where’s Rohan?"

My voice trembled, betraying my fear. The room fell silent, everyone glancing at each other.

"There was an urgent matter with a client. Boss and Priya rushed over."

One of the girls spoke up, her voice gentle. I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat.

I forced a smile. "Oh, that’s fine. When Rohan comes back, please tell him I went home first."

I turned to leave, heart pounding. The night air outside was thick with the scent of rain and diesel.

On the way home, my phone rang several times. I hung up and opened WhatsApp.

The screen lit up with missed calls and messages, none from Rohan. My hands shook as I scrolled through the notifications.

Two minutes ago, Priya posted on her status: On the way home, personally dropped by my hero. Even the air is sweet.

Her words stung, the picture twisting the knife deeper. The image was blurry, taken from the passenger seat, but I’d know Rohan’s profile anywhere.

The picture was of a man’s side profile driving. So familiar, yet so unfamiliar.

I stared at Priya’s status, the glow of her words burning my eyes. Maybe I was always meant to be the second lead.