Chapter 3 – Familiar Lines

“See you at our place.”

Veeresh said it casually, as if it meant nothing.

Poornima said nothing at all.

She simply turned and walked away, the soft rustle of her saree fading down the corridor. Veeresh watched her go for a second longer than necessary before shaking it off and heading back into his world of glass walls and authority.

The rest of the day blurred into numbers and negotiations.

Board members. Project heads. High-ranking officials discussing the upcoming tech park—innovation, security, profits. Veeresh spoke when needed, listened when it mattered, and signed where it was inevitable. By the time the final meeting ended, the sun had dipped low, casting long shadows across the building lobby.

That’s when he stopped at the juice centre outside.

The place was ordinary—plastic chairs, humming blender, the smell of fresh fruit cutting through the city dust. He leaned against the counter, phone in hand.

And then she appeared.

Poornima.

Still in the same saree. Still calm. Still entirely out of place in his ruthless universe.

Veeresh looked up. “Order juice.”

She didn’t even hesitate. She slapped his arm lightly. “Can’t you do it once?”

He smirked, caught her wrist, and nudged her toward the shop. “Go.”

She rolled her eyes but ordered anyway. “One kiwi milkshake… and watermelon juice.”

When the glasses arrived, she slid the kiwi milkshake toward him and picked up the watermelon for herself.

Veeresh took a sip. Didn’t say a word.

She noticed immediately.

She studied his face—too quiet, too still. “What happened?”

He didn’t look at her. “Why the hell are you in my project?”

She blinked, surprised. “I’m not. I’m already handling two others. I won’t be part of it.”

That made him go silent.

He stared at the road, jaw tightening, thoughts unreadable. After a moment, he changed the subject abruptly.

“Your hip was visible too much today.”

She burst out laughing, almost choking on her juice. “Seriously? You noticed that?”

“You make it hard not to,” he muttered.

She nudged him with her elbow. “Relax. You’re my bestie.”

That word hit differently than she intended.

Veeresh didn’t reply.

Instead, he lifted his hand and rested it on her shoulder—light, protective, instinctive. The way he always had. The way he didn’t even think about.

Traffic rushed past. The blender whirred. Life moved on.

But for Veeresh, something had already shifted.

And this time, he wasn’t sure whether he was angry…

or afraid.