__________AUTHOR'S POaV:~~
It was late in the evening when the office was finally emptying out. The sound of clicking keyboards and bustling footsteps had softened to a low hum as most employees packed their belongings and made their way home. Anaya, however, lingered a little longer. Her thoughts were scattered, lost between the responsibilities of her internship and the unusual situation she found herself in. Married to Rudra Singhaniya—her boss, a man of power and influence—yet she remained just an intern in his company. It was a strange duality she hadn't come to terms with.
She gathered her things, the faint scent of office paper and warm coffee still hanging in the air. The evening sun cast long shadows as she made her way out of the office building and headed towards the bus stop. Her thoughts drifted back to that night—the night Rudra had asked for seven days. Seven days of a marriage that felt more like a silent agreement than a relationship. Anaya still wasn't sure how to process it all.
Her mind was so preoccupied with the whirlwind of her life that she didn't even notice the black, shiny car parked at the bus stop. It wasn't until she was about to step onto the curb that the car's window slid down, revealing Rudra behind the wheel, his eyes as sharp as ever. His presence startled her for a moment, but she quickly regained her composure, trying to hide the surprise on her face.
"Get in," he said in that deep, commanding voice of his, one that left little room for argument.
Anaya hesitated but eventually opened the car door and slid into the passenger seat, quietly adjusting her bag on her lap. The silence between them was palpable, almost suffocating in the enclosed space of the car. Rudra noticed immediately—her quiet demeanor, the way her hands fidgeted with the strap of her bag, her eyes avoiding his.
"Is something wrong?" he asked, his tone unreadable, though there was a hint of curiosity in his gaze.
Anaya bit her lip, trying to avoid meeting his eyes. "No, nothing's wrong," she said quickly, but her voice wavered, betraying her emotions. She didn't know how to explain the thoughts swimming in her mind—the overwhelming feeling of being a mere intern in his grand empire, a small presence in his world.
Rudra, always observant, didn't miss the slight tremble in her words. He knew something was off, though he didn't press further. Instead, he kept his gaze on the road ahead, the silence stretching between them. But this silence was different—it wasn't uncomfortable, rather, it was filled with unspoken thoughts, with words neither of them knew how to express.
A few minutes passed, the city lights flickering through the car windows as they drove. Anaya, in an attempt to break the awkward tension, began to ask him questions—small, insignificant things about his day, his schedule, anything that would divert attention from her own inner turmoil.
Rudra, however, saw through her efforts. She was trying to keep herself distracted, to avoid the deeper conversation they both knew was looming. He allowed her to carry on for a while, answering her questions with short replies, but his mind was elsewhere. His thoughts were focused on her, on the tension he could feel building inside her, even though she was trying her best to mask it.
Eventually, the weight of the unspoken grew too heavy for him to ignore. He pulled the car over to the side of the road, the streetlights casting a soft glow over the car's interior. The sudden stop caught Anaya off guard, and she turned to him, her brows furrowed in confusion.
"Are you ready for day one?" Rudra's voice cut through the silence like a knife, deep and serious.
Anaya blinked, unsure what he meant. "Day one?"
He nodded, his gaze unwavering. "Our one day. The first day of the seven I asked for."
Her heart skipped a beat. She hadn't forgotten, of course. How could she? But she hadn't expected him to bring it up so soon, and in such a straightforward manner. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her hands still fidgeting nervously with the strap of her bag.
"I... I don't know," she admitted softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Rudra turned slightly to face her, his eyes softening just a fraction as he looked at her. "I asked for seven days, Anaya," he said quietly, his voice unusually gentle. "But that doesn't mean I'm expecting you to be ready for all of this at once."
Anaya swallowed, her throat dry. She didn't know how to respond. The truth was, she wasn't ready. She had married Rudra under unusual circumstances, and their relationship was still a mystery to her. She didn't know what he wanted from her, and she certainly didn't know how to navigate the complex emotions she felt when she was around him.
"I just..." she began, but the words seemed to fail her. She looked down at her hands, her mind racing with thoughts she couldn't quite articulate. "I don't know how to be your wife, Rudra. I'm just... an intern. I'm just... me."
Rudra's gaze softened even more at her confession. For the first time, he saw the vulnerability behind her calm exterior—the uncertainty, the confusion. She wasn't just his wife in name, she was a person, struggling to make sense of everything that had happened in such a short amount of time.
"You're not just an intern, Anaya," he said, his voice firm but kind. "And you're not just 'you.' You're my wife, whether you're ready for that or not."
Anaya felt a lump form in her throat. His words, while comforting in one sense, also made the weight of her situation feel heavier. She didn't know how to be what he needed, what the world expected of her. And yet, here she was—married to one of the most powerful men in the city, sitting in his car, being asked if she was ready for a relationship she hadn't even begun to understand.
She looked up at him, her eyes wide and uncertain. "I don't know how to do this," she admitted softly.
Rudra, for the first time, reached out and took her hand in his, his touch firm yet gentle. "We'll figure it out," he said quietly, his voice filled with a certainty she couldn't help but be drawn to. "One day at a time."
The moment between them stretched on, the tension in the car easing just a little. Anaya still wasn't sure what the future held for them, but for now, sitting there with his hand in hers, she felt a small sense of comfort. Maybe they could figure it out, after all.
As the car started moving again, neither of them spoke. But the silence this time wasn't filled with awkwardness or tension—it was filled with the unspoken understanding that, for now, they would take things one step at a time. And that was enough.
__________________
Rudra's grip on the steering wheel tightened as the car hummed along the darkening road. The weight of the world seemed to press down on him, heavier than usual. His mind was swirling with thoughts—work, the ever-growing complexities of his personal life, and, more than anything, Anaya. Her silence beside him was gnawing at him, even if he didn't let it show. She wasn't just another responsibility; she was now part of his life, whether he had planned it or not.
His phone buzzed on the dashboard—another notification from work, no doubt—but he ignored it, his jaw clenching in frustration. The petition that had taken weeks of careful planning had failed, yet that wasn't what weighed on his mind. His business challenges paled in comparison to the real problem he faced now: navigating the complicated, emotional terrain with Anaya. The petition was a blow to his professional ambitions, but here, with Anaya, it felt personal—something he wasn't used to dealing with.
Without warning, he pulled the car to a sudden stop along the seaside road, the soft crashing of the waves faint in the distance. Anaya jolted in her seat, her eyes wide with confusion as she turned to look at him. Rudra said nothing at first, only unbuckling his seatbelt, his face unreadable.
"Rudra?" she asked softly, her voice filled with concern.
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he stepped out of the car, walking around to her side, each step heavy with unspoken emotion. When he reached her door, he opened it with the same calm composure he always carried, but there was a storm brewing inside him, one he could barely keep contained.
Anaya was confused, her thoughts racing. "What's going on?" she whispered as Rudra leaned down, gently unfastening her seatbelt. His movements were careful, deliberate, but his silence unnerved her. When he offered her his hand, she took it, still uncertain of what was happening.
"Come," he said quietly, his voice low and strained. There was a tension in his words, but also something deeper, something she couldn't quite place.
Without asking further, Anaya stepped out of the car, her eyes darting around as she realized they were by the sea. The air was cooler here, the saltiness of the ocean breeze brushing against her skin as they walked toward the sandy path that led down to the shore. Rudra's grip on her hand remained firm, but there was an intensity to him that was unfamiliar. She couldn't tell if it was his frustration with work or something more personal, but whatever it was, it hung between them like a thick fog.
They walked in silence for a while, their footsteps soft on the sand, the rhythmic sound of the waves filling the space between them. Rudra had always been a man of few words, but tonight felt different. Anaya could feel the weight of something unsaid pressing on him, on them.
Finally, she spoke. "Why are we here, Rudra?"
He stopped walking, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the sun had long since disappeared, leaving only a faint glow behind. His jaw clenched as he stood there, his hand still holding hers.
"I needed to get away from everything," he admitted, his voice quieter than she had ever heard it. He wasn't talking about work, she realized. This was something deeper.
Anaya frowned, unsure how to respond. "But why bring me here?"
Rudra turned to face her, his eyes darker than usual, the ocean wind ruffling his hair. "Because I needed to be with you," he said, the honesty in his voice startling her. His words were simple, but they carried a weight that made her heart skip a beat. He wasn't talking about obligation or duty. He was talking about choice. He had chosen to be here with her, to seek her out in this moment of vulnerability, even if he couldn't fully explain why.
Anaya's chest tightened as she looked up at him. This was the man who rarely let anyone close, the man who carried the world on his shoulders but never let anyone see how heavy it truly was. And now, here he was, standing in front of her, showing a side of himself she hadn't expected to see.
"I know you didn't choose this, Anaya," Rudra said, his voice rough with emotion. "You didn't ask for any of this—our marriage, the complications, the pressure. But you're here, and that means something."
Anaya swallowed hard, her mind racing. "What do you mean?"
Rudra took a deep breath, his eyes softening as he stepped closer to her. "I've always been driven by ambition, by the need to succeed, to control everything around me. But with you... it's different. You make me question everything. You make me want something more than just power or success."
She stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest. Rudra had never been this open with her before, and it left her feeling exposed, vulnerable. "I don't know how to be what you need," she whispered, her voice trembling.
Rudra shook his head. "I don't need you to be anything other than yourself. That's enough."
The words hit her like a wave, crashing over her in a way she hadn't expected. She had always felt like she didn't belong in his world, like she was an outsider looking in. But now, hearing him say that she was enough—that she, just as she was, could mean something to him—it made her feel a sense of belonging she hadn't felt before.
Rudra let go of her hand and took a step toward the edge of the water, his shoes sinking into the wet sand. "I come here when I need to clear my head," he said, his voice distant as he stared out at the sea. "The waves... they remind me that no matter how much I try to control things, there's always something bigger than me. Something I can't control."
Anaya watched him, her heart aching for the man standing in front of her. She had always seen Rudra as a figure of strength, someone who could handle anything that came his way. But now, standing here by the sea, he seemed so human, so real. And it terrified her, because it made her realize how much she cared for him.
Without thinking, she stepped closer to him, her fingers brushing against his arm. "You don't have to control everything, Rudra," she said softly. "Sometimes... sometimes it's okay to just let things be."
He turned to her, his eyes locking with hers, and for the first time, she saw the vulnerability behind his usual stoic demeanor. There was a longing in his gaze, something raw and unspoken, and it made her breath catch in her throat.
For a moment, they just stood there, the sound of the waves crashing around them, the wind tugging at their clothes. And in that moment, everything else faded away—the complications of their marriage, the expectations, the world outside. It was just them, standing together by the sea, two people trying to find their way in the midst of chaos.
Rudra reached out and gently cupped her cheek, his touch warm against her skin. "I don't know what the future holds, Anaya," he said quietly. "But I do know one thing—I want you in it."
Anaya's breath hitched, her heart racing as she stared up at him. She didn't know what to say, how to respond to the emotions swirling inside her. All she knew was that, in this moment, standing here with him, she felt a sense of peace she hadn't felt in a long time.
"I'm not going anywhere," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the waves.
Rudra's lips curved into a faint smile, and for the first time, she saw a softness in his eyes that she hadn't seen before. He didn't say anything in response, but the look in his eyes said enough.
They stood there for a while longer, the waves crashing around them, the sky darkening as the evening wore on. And in that quiet, unspoken moment, something shifted between them—something deeper, something real.
It wasn't love, not yet. But it was the beginning of something. Something they both knew was worth holding onto.
##To be continue...**