By the time I got back to my apartment, the city outside had quieted down. It's funny how places can feel so full of life one minute and then completely empty the next. The silence was kind of a relief, though. I dropped my bag by the door, kicked off my shoes, and went straight for my laptop.
I didn't even have to think about it anymore—it was muscle memory at this point. Open laptop. Check emails. Reopen design files. Fix the mess someone else created. Story of my life.
But as I sat down at the dining table, my fingers hovering over the keyboard, I couldn't stop hearing Amartya's voice in my head: _You always have a choice._
I sighed and tried to shake it off. Focus, Maya. I had work to do, deadlines to meet, and clients to keep happy. No time for existential crises or whatever the hell this was.
I started tweaking the design specs, adjusting the patterns, resizing the fabric cuts. The usual. But as I worked, I kept catching myself zoning out, my mind wandering back to the club, back to Amartya's face when he said those words. He was right. As much as I hated to admit it, I did have a choice. I could have stayed at the club, finished my drink, maybe even let myself have some fun for once. But here I was, working myself into the ground, again.
It was past midnight when I finally sent off the updated designs. I closed my laptop and leaned back in my chair, rubbing my eyes. I should've felt accomplished, relieved even. But instead, I felt... drained. More than just tired—this was something deeper, like I was running on fumes.
I stood up and dragged myself to the bedroom, collapsing onto the bed without even bothering to change out of my clothes. Staring up at the ceiling, I couldn't stop my brain from going in circles. Amartya's words kept replaying over and over.
_You always have a choice._
Yeah, maybe I did. But what the hell was I supposed to do with that? It's not like I could just stop working. I had responsibilities, people relying on me. I couldn't just drop everything because I was feeling overwhelmed. Could I?
I sighed and turned over onto my side, pulling the blanket up around me. As much as I wanted to ignore it, the thought was still there, gnawing at me. Maybe it was time to make a change. Maybe I needed to find a way to step back, to breathe.
But for tonight, I pushed it aside. Tomorrow was another day, and I had more work waiting for me. Maybe one of these days, I'd figure out how to choose something different. But for now, I just needed sleep.
Ah, I see the misunderstanding. Since Maya is the owner of the company, she wouldn't have a "boss" figure as I originally implied. Let me adjust the chapter accordingly and make sure the dynamics reflect her position properly.
I woke up the next morning with that familiar heaviness in my chest, the kind that hits you before you even open your eyes. I dragged myself out of bed, my hand still sore from last night's whiskey-induced glass-crushing incident. Another day, another headache, but that's just the price you pay when you're running a company—your own company—at that.
I pulled on some clothes and glanced at the mirror—messy bun, dark circles, and that "don't mess with me today" look already in place. Perfect. I wasn't sure if I was about to face a Monday or a mini-apocalypse, but either way, I was ready to dive headfirst into it.
The office was already buzzing when I arrived. Teams hustling, meetings being booked left and right. As the CEO, I wasn't just someone who could slip into the background unnoticed. Every decision came down to me, and there was no escaping it. Emails flooded in before I even reached my desk. My assistant, Saira, greeted me with a frantic wave, holding a stack of files as I entered the glass-walled corner office.
"Maya, good morning!" she chirped, her eyes darting between the files in her hands and her phone's calendar. "I've got the reports from the marketing team, the fabric samples are delayed again—third time this month—and you've got a meeting with the design team at noon to go over next quarter's collection."
"Ugh," I groaned, feeling that familiar pulse of stress start to build behind my eyes. "Cancel the design meeting. I need to focus on the delays today. We can't afford another setback."
Clara nodded, already typing away on her phone. "Got it. Anything else?"
"No, I'll take it from here," I said, waving her off as I collapsed into my chair.
I pulled my laptop closer and opened up the spreadsheet Clara had left for me. The numbers weren't bad—actually, they were pretty good—but it didn't stop the creeping anxiety that always seemed to linger in the back of my mind. Every success felt temporary, like it could all be ripped away at any moment. And with every failure, I felt the weight of my entire company on my shoulders.
I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, the thoughts from last night still echoing in my head. Amartya's words about not wanting to live up to everyone else's expectations... Maybe he was onto something.
I glanced at my phone and shot him a quick text.
Me:"Lunch later? I need a break from all this capitalist nonsense."
He replied almost instantly.
Amartya:*"Always down for a food break. 1 PM?"
Me: "Done."
I leaned back in my chair, staring out the window. Owning a company was supposed to be the dream, right? I built it from the ground up. But lately, it felt more like a cage than a dream. Sure, I called the shots, but that didn't mean I was free.
The pressure to keep everything afloat, to meet the impossible standards I'd set for myself, it was... exhausting. And for what? More profit? A fancier office? I wasn't even sure anymore.
By the time noon rolled around, I was ready to throw my laptop out the window. Instead, I grabbed my bag and headed out the door, leaving behind the constant buzzing of phones and clicking of keyboards. For the next hour, I just wanted to forget about everything—about deadlines, expectations, and what my next move had to be.
When I arrived at our usual spot—a low-key café that somehow managed to be both hipster and corporate-friendly—Amartya was already there, scrolling through his phone like usual. He looked up as I walked in, flashing me a grin.
"Hey," he said, putting his phone down. "How's the CEO life treating you?"
I let out a long, dramatic sigh as I sat down across from him. "Let's not even talk about it. I'm on the verge of losing it today. The supply chain issues, meetings... everything feels like it's crumbling, and I'm just trying to hold it together with duct tape."
Amartya chuckled. "Sounds like it's killing you let go see a doctor."
I rolled my eyes. "Shut up. How's your day been?"
He shrugged. "Same old. I pretended to care about some work stuff for like an hour. Then I watched a bunch of reels on Instagram until someone important walked into the office."
"Ah, the joys of corporate life," I said dryly, picking up a menu.
"You know it." He paused, glancing at me. "You good though? You seemed... I dunno, off last night. Still feeling that way?"
I hesitated, staring down at the menu but not really reading it. "Honestly? Yeah. I've been thinking about what you said—about not wanting to live up to everyone else's expectations. I'm kind of feeling that too."
Amartya nodded, taking a sip of his drink. "Yeah, I get that. We're told to hustle and grind, but what if we just want to, you know, exist for a bit? What's so wrong with not having it all figured out?"
"Exactly," I said, feeling a strange sense of relief that someone else understood. "But then, like, what do we do? Just... exist? How does that work?"
He laughed. "I don't know. But maybe it starts with letting go of the pressure to always have a plan. Maybe we just... do nothing for a while and see what happens."
I thought about that for a moment. It sounded nice—freeing, even. But also terrifying. Could I really let go of everything I'd worked for, even if just for a little while? Could I just... exist?
Maybe. Maybe not. But for now, I was willing to try.
"Alright," I said, leaning back in my chair with a small smile. "Let's wing it, then."
Amartya grinned. "Now you're speaking my language. Welcome to the cult"
We laughed together and I just can't stop looking at his beautiful eyes and that pretty face which somehow comforts me even till this date.