21

Tara and Aryan were sitting cross-legged on the floor of her studio, laptops open in front of them, chai cups now empty on the side table. Aryan was reading aloud from an email as Tara leaned back slightly against the couch, listening with her arms crossed.

"Okay, so," Aryan started, his eyes scanning the screen, "the business is a new sustainable clothing brand. They want a complete website launch, including product displays, payment integration, and a blog section for their sustainability practices. We'll be handling both the backend and frontend development. And—" his eyes narrowed as he scrolled further down. "Oh, we need to visit their office site this week... within the next three days."

Tara shifted slightly. "When do we go, then?"

He shrugged. "Maybe tomorrow?"

She hesitated, but then nodded. "Okay. Tomorrow."

He smiled briefly before diving back into work mode. "Alright, so I was thinking for frontend we could use React—it's faster, easier to debug. Backend we can stick to Node.js. And database-wise, MongoDB should work well for scalability. Plus, we can integrate Stripe for payments—it's the simplest."

As he continued outlining tools and approaches, Tara just listened, nodding occasionally but staying quiet. She was absorbing it all but feeling more and more like he had this under control. He was always the tech brain between them—some things hadn't changed.

After a while, Aryan noticed her head dipping slightly, her eyes blinking slower than usual. He paused, softening. "Hey... if you're sleepy, go sleep. I'll finish off the rest of the business plan."

Her eyes opened a bit more at that. "What business plan?"

He looked at her, amused. "Taru, we need a business plan to present to them. We're not just building a website—we need to align it with their product launches, timelines, all that."

She frowned. "But we're only doing the tech part."

"I know," he said, leaning back against the couch, "but this is how it works. We need to know their milestones. Like, when their collections drop, when they want the payment system ready, blog posts lined up. Everything has to match."

Tara rubbed her temple. "I don't know any of this stuff..."

Aryan's voice softened. "I spent the last year working on business plans like this. Don't worry, I got this."

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and before she could think, she muttered under her breath, "You spent the last year ignoring me too."

The room went still. Aryan heard it. He sighed quietly.

"Tara... I—I want to explain. But you don't want to listen."

Her gaze hardened. "Exactly. I don't. So leave it."

But he didn't. He leaned forward slightly. "I just... I want you to know why—"

"Stop," she said, and without thinking, she reached out and pressed her hand over his mouth to silence him.

For a second, there was silence. Her palm rested against his lips, and his eyes softened—like he was drinking in the familiarity, the ease with which they used to touch. Then, he chuckled against her hand.

Before she could pull away, he pressed a soft kiss to her palm.

Tara snatched her hand back like she'd been burned. "Don't."

Aryan grinned, leaning closer toward her. "Don't what?"

She shifted backward, but he inched forward.

"Leave me alone," she said quickly.

His eyes darkened just slightly, his voice low and teasing. "I did that already, remember?"

Her breath hitched. He was too close—too familiar—but she refused to let him see her crack.

"Don't do this, Aryan," she whispered, trying to keep her walls up.

He held her gaze for a moment longer, his eyes searching hers, but then he leaned back with a sigh, giving her the space she desperately needed.

"Okay, okay," he said lightly, trying to ease the tension. "I'll behave. For now."

She rolled her eyes, but her heart was racing.

"Good," she said, attempting to sound in control. "Now, finish that business plan."

He laughed softly. "Yes, ma'am."

They settled back into work, but her mind was far from calm. Neither of theirs was.

The night stretched on as they continued discussing the business plan. Aryan was explaining the timeline adjustments they'd need to make when he noticed Tara's responses becoming shorter—just hums and occasional nods. Her eyelids were heavy, her posture slowly relaxing against the couch.

He smirked but didn't say anything, knowing how stubborn she could be. She wouldn't admit she was tired. So, he just kept working, letting his voice fill the room as he typed away.

Minutes later, he felt a light weight press against his shoulder. He paused, glancing down to see Tara's head resting there. Her eyes were closed, her breathing soft and even. She had finally drifted off.

A small, fond chuckle escaped him. Carefully, he adjusted his shoulder to support her head better, his hand coming up instinctively to hold it so she wouldn't slip. His thumb brushed over her temple, fingers lightly cradling her jaw. She looked so peaceful—so much like the Tara he remembered before everything fell apart.

He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. His lips lingered there for a second longer than they should have.

"I miss you so much, Taru," he whispered softly, more to himself than to her.

She stirred slightly but didn't wake. He smiled faintly, then shifted, carefully sliding an arm beneath her legs and another around her back. He lifted her with ease, holding her close as he carried her to the bed. She barely moved, just nestling into the crook of his neck before he laid her down gently.

He pulled a blanket over her, tucking it around her small frame. For a moment, he just stood there, watching her—taking in the way her hair fell over her face, the slight crease in her brow even in sleep. He resisted the urge to smooth it out, knowing it would wake her.

Turning back to the table, he quietly finished the business plan, typing away with renewed focus. Afterward, he gathered their cups, washed the dishes in her small kitchen, and wiped the counter clean—an unconscious habit whenever he was in her space.

Before leaving, he walked back to the bed and looked at her one last time. His heart ached, but he smiled softly.

"Goodnight, Star," he whispered.

With that, he slipped out of her studio and into his own, closing the door behind him.

💜