Chapter 24:New project
The silence between us was broken by the sharp clearing of a throat.
"Mr. Malhotra, Ms. Sharma... I see you've already reacquainted yourselves," said Mr. Khanna, the head of the Urban Heritage Foundation. He beamed, oblivious to the tectonic plates shifting beneath our feet. "Ananya, I was just telling Advik that your firm's vision for the Old Port redevelopment is the only one that captures the soul of the city."
I blinked, trying to force my professional mask back into place. "The Old Port? I thought the primary investor was still anonymous."
"Not anymore," Advik said, his voice dropping into that low, authoritative register that used to command my every move. He didn't look at Khanna; he kept his eyes on me. "Malhotra Industries took over the contract this morning. I've reviewed your portfolio, Ms. Sharma. Your work is... meticulous."
The use of my professional title felt like a cold splash of water. He wasn't the man mourning a lost love anymore; he was the shark who owned the water I was swimming in.
"I didn't realize you were interested in heritage conservation, Advik," I said, tilting my head. "I thought you preferred building fortresses."
"I'm interested in things that endure," he countered smoothly. "Khanna, if you'll excuse us? We have a lot of technical ground to cover if we're to meet the morning's filing deadline."
Khanna scurried away, leaving us in a pocket of space that felt far too small for the history between us.
The Project Brief
Advik gestured toward a private alcove where a digital blueprint of the Port project was glowing on a tablet. "The city wants a tourist hub. I told them no. I want a sanctuary. Libraries, low-income housing integrated with high-end commerce, and a wall that can withstand the monsoon surges."
"You want a city within a city," I realized, looking at the sketches. "Just like the mansion."
"Is that a criticism?"
"It's a pattern," I said, stepping closer to the screen. My hand brushed his as I reached for the stylus, and a jolt of electricity—the kind I'd spent three years pretending I'd forgotten—shot up my arm. I cleared my throat. "But your structural layout is too rigid. If you want people to actually live here, you need light. You need open courtyards. You can't keep everything under lock and key, Advik."
"I've learned that the hard way, haven't I?" He murmured, the double meaning hanging heavy in the air.
He leaned over the table, his shoulder inches from mine. For the next hour, the gala faded. We were no longer ex-husband and captive; we were a builder and an architect. We argued over load-bearing columns and aesthetic flow. He was as stubborn as ever, but he was listening—really listening—in a way he never had when I lived in his house.
"It's midnight," I said finally, looking at the empty ballroom. The guests had long since departed. "I should go. My firm will send the updated drafts by 9:00 AM."
"I'll drive you," he said. It wasn't a request.
"I have my own car, Advik. I told you, I've changed everything."
"It's raining, Ananya," he said, nodding toward the windows where a sudden Mumbai downpour was lashing against the glass. "And I'm not letting you drive through this mess alone. Consider it a business necessity. I need my lead architect alive to finish the project."
As we walked toward the exit, his hand settled on the small of my back—a light, ghost-like touch that felt like a claim and a question all at once.
"How is Ishaan?" he asked as the valet brought his car around.
"He's good. He's studying law. He still asks about you, you know."
Advik paused, his expression unreadable in the flickering streetlights. "And you? When he asks, what do you tell him?"
I looked at the rain, then at the man who had been my captor, my protector, and my greatest heartbreak. "I tell him that some people are meant to be the storm, and some are meant to be the anchor. And for a long time, I couldn't tell which one you were."
"And now?"
I stepped into the car, the scent of his expensive leather seats wrapping around me like a memory. "Now, I think you're the only person who knows how to be both."