“You’re allowed to share the things that matter, even in temporary relationships. Don’t let the expiry date stop you from being yourself, or from enjoying something real.”
“Okay,” Mahika replied, though her voice lacked conviction.
“No, you’re not getting it,” Ishika pressed. “This may not be forever. I get it. But for one whole year, it’s just the two of you.You guys are exclusive. That has to count for something, right? So tell me, why exactly are younotsleeping with your very hot, very legal husband?”
Mahika scoffed, her cheeks flushing pink. Sure, she had kissed him once, but in her dreams, she’d gone far beyond that… much, much farther.
“I’mnotgoing to sleep with him,” she hissed, glancing around to make sure she was alone.
“But why not? How can you live with him under the same roof and not want to jump into bed with him?”
“Because I don’t want to complicate things,” she muttered. “That’s why I’m writing again… to stay sane and not think about him all the damn time.”
“Good,” Ishika said smugly. “At least you’re admitting he’s occupying your mind.”
“I did not—”
“Stop living in denial. I heard it loud and clear,” Ishika cut in, chuckling. “Now go finish scribbling your magic words before your meeting starts.”
Mahika sighed and rolled her eyes. “Okay, but for the record, I still don’t agree with you about banging him.”
“Sure you don’t, honey,” Ishika teased, laughing.
Mahika ended the call mid-laugh, shaking her head as Ishika’s voice faded into the silence. Her gaze dropped to the glowing tablet in front of her. Her fingers hovered over the screen, but her thoughts had drifted elsewhere. She couldn’t help but wonder what would Vikram say if he ever found out about her secret passion?
Just then, the door opened, and one by one, her team members trickled in. Everyone exchanged quick greetings and settled into their respective seats. The air buzzed with quiet conversation.
Behind her, the screen came alive with the soft flicker of the outreach strategy presentation. Mahika straightened, tapped her tablet, and began.
“Good afternoon, people. Let’s dive in,” she said, her voice firm but confident. “We’re not here to create another flashy campaign that looks great on a billboard and feels fake in real life. What we are building should appeal to people, should resonate with them. It needs to feel authentic and true to its target communities.”
Kritika nodded in agreement. “We can start with storytelling. Use real people, capture real moments. Authenticity should be our focus.”
“Exactly,” Mahika said, her gaze moving across the table.
Aadya frowned. “What should we push first … how convenient it is, or how luxurious?”
Mahika replied, “Both, but keep it subtle. This isn’t just a feature we’re selling. It’s the whole experience. The feeling of being cared for in a luxurious setting, without even needing to say anything.”
Ishan leaned forward. “Let’s get in travel influencers and weekend vloggers to promote it. Let them try it and share their experiences. A mix of influencers, local campaigns, and engaging reels will get us traction fast and hook people quickly.”
“Perfect,” Mahika nodded.
She tapped her tablet and pulled up the next slide. “Here’s the plan. We’ll launch in three phases: first, a soft launch at selected hotels with invite-only guests. Next, targeted digital ads for urban audiences. And finally, the big push—a video ad during the IPL and on streaming platforms.”
Right then, the door swung open.
There was no knock. Just a sudden burst of energy that disrupted the rhythm like a badly timed music beat. Mahika looked up, startled, to see her husband walking towards the empty seat across from her.
She released a slow breath. Why had he come here now? He had been distant lately, and no matter how hard she tried to ignore it, he still filled up her mind.
He didn’t just walk in; heownedthe space around him. His jacket was gone, and his shirt hugged him in a way that was dangerously appealing. His sleeves were rolled carelessly to his elbows, revealing forearms that looked sculpted to perfection. He surveyed the room with a quiet authority, as if he could feel its energy.
Mahika kept her voice composed. “This is a department meeting, so no outside teams please.”
Vikram settled in his chair, unbothered. He rested an arm on the table, his face a picture of perfect calm. “Good thing I’m the CEO, then.”
The team members exchanged uneasy glances, some avoiding eye contact altogether. Mahika, however, stayed quiet. She didn’t understand what he was up to, and that unnervingly composed tone of his only made her more wary, especially after weeks of distance and the tension that still lingered between them.