Page 50 of Lawfully Yours
And with that, she left. As she walked through the hallway, her gaze flicked toward the side glass wall, and her steps slowed.
There he was.
Kushal stood on the balcony of the floor, one hand tucked into his pocket, the other holding a cigarette loosely between his fingers. He wasn’t smoking so much as breathing it in and letting it swirl around him, as if the smoke itself could quiet the war within.
She had rarely seen him smoke. Once, maybe twice, during their short-lived marriage. Always when something got too close to breaking him.
Today was one of those days.
His hair was slightly dishevelled from running his hand through it too often. His shirt was still open at the collar. His tie was missing. He definitely didn’t look like the golden boy of Verma & Associates at the moment.
She hated how even now her heart fluttered at the sight of him. Before he could catch her staring, she turned and walked away with her head held high. But even as she retreated, a part of her knew he had already felt her presence.
Because just as she disappeared around the corner, Kushal finally turned his head.
And looked straight at the space where she’d stood.
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Kushal had felt her presence. Even though he hadn’t turned around, hadn’t caught a reflection in the glass, he knew Arundhati was somewhere nearby, watching him, maybe just on the other side of the floor’s glass wall.
He drew the cigarette to his lips again, inhaling deep as the city sprawled beneath him. The smoke burned through his chest, not quite enough to numb the familiar ache that her words had reignited minutes ago. He had managed to avoid this for months. But then she said her name again.Kamya Bakshi.
The name hit like a punch in the ribs, not because he was in love with Kamya. No, he never had been. But because Kamya had once seemed like the obvious choice. The smart choice.
Kamya had come into his life two and a half years ago. She had entered Verma & Associates as a client seeking legal and financial representation. Her company was in a financial tangle, and Verma & Associates had dispatched their best finance lawyers to handle the case. Kushal had been looped in for a few key strategic sessions. That was all.
At first, there was nothing more to her than the job.
Kamya had a vision for her business; she took no nonsense from anyone. She was, in many ways, exactly the kind of woman Kushal Nair had always imagined ending up with.
Smart.
Controlled.
Unattached.
And she noticed him.
Kamya had a way of looking at him when they were in the same room, not overtly obvious, never crossing any professional boundaries. But there was something in her gaze. A flirtation wrapped in intellect. And slowly, that look became a conversation. Those conversations turned into coffees. The coffees turned into late-night drinks.
It hadn’t beenlove. It hadn’t started with fireworks. No breathless glances. Just mutual admiration.But somewhere in the middle of it all, the office whispers began. The kind that co-workers traded behind lifted coffee mugs and hallway glances. They called them the perfect power couple in the making.
It was strange how sometimes it’s the assumptions of others that push you into believing them yourself. He hadn’t thought about Kamya as anything more than a professional contact until everyone around him did. The teasing, the side glances, the constant nudging from colleagues, somewhere, it had planted a seed.
And something in Kushal started shifting. He began seeing her not as she was, but as how others wanted her to be with him.
She mirrored his drive. She made plans like him, calculated risks like him, even drank her scotch the same way—neat, no ice, no drama.
The resemblance to himself was uncanny.
They went out more. More coffee shops, more private lounges, and once or twice dinner dates, too. It wasn’t official. But in everyone’s eyes, it was.
Yes, there had been a kiss.A missed kiss. It was messy and drunk and half-finished, somewhere between a bad joke and a goodnight. But even then, it had left something unsaid between them.The possibility.
So, he did what any logical man might. He began to think about making it real. Official.
She was intelligent. Beautiful. Powerful. She understood the demands of his job. She could talk politics and litigation over scotch. She never asked questions he didn’t want to answer. She was, on paper, perfect.
