The Masks We Wear

🏡 Morning – Veeresh’s House

The morning sun filtered in through the soft curtains, casting golden streaks across the floor. Poornima was in the kitchen preparing Thoshini’s breakfast. The little girl giggled in the hall, crawling and running toward the sound of sizzling dosa.

Veeresh entered the scene.

His expression softened the moment he saw Thoshini.

> “Come here, my jaan,” he said, lifting her in his arms. “Did you eat, baby?”

Thoshini pointed to Poornima.

> “Princess made dosa!”

Veeresh looked toward Poornima briefly — emotionless.

> “Thank her,” he said to Thoshini with a warm smile, kissing her forehead.

Poornima smiled faintly, a trace of hope flickering inside her. But it was short-lived.

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🏢 Later – Office Conference Room

Veeresh stood at the head of the table, a presentation running on the screen. The team of executives sat silently as Poornima spoke about the financial analysis for the quarter.

She handed him a file, explaining details. Calm. Professional.

But he didn’t even glance at it.

> “This is the worst presentation I’ve seen,” he snapped coldly. “Did you even go to business school or did you fake your degree too?”

Everyone went silent.

Poornima stood frozen, but kept her head low.

> “This is why I say personal issues ruin work,” Veeresh continued, walking around the table. “When someone who once played with your heart starts playing with company assets too.”

Some employees looked at each other awkwardly. Others lowered their eyes in discomfort.

> “Redo it. Entirely. From scratch,” he ordered. “And next time, use that brain of yours. If there’s any left.”

He walked toward the door, then suddenly turned back, stepping close to her — just enough so only she could hear:

> “You saw me love you once, Poornima.”

His voice was like a blade wrapped in velvet.

> “Now you’ll see me hate you… with the same passion. I will cross every limit. You shattered me… now I’ll break you.”

He shoved her shoulder lightly as he walked past, and exited the room without a backward glance.

Poornima stood there, eyes glued to the table, her hands trembling. Her pride burned. Her heart stung.

But her soul whispered:

> “Let him take it all out on me… if this is the only way he can heal, so be it.”