Days passed, but Aarav could not forget Meera's eyes.
Every morning, as he walked to his office with his worn bag and simple clothes, his heart secretly hoped to see her near the fruit stall. And fate listened.
One evening, when the sky turned orange, Aarav saw her again—standing outside the tailoring shop, folding finished clothes carefully.
Meera, he called softly.
She looked up, surprised. Then she smiled. You again, apple hero.
He laughed. Still fighting fruit sellers?
Every day, she said proudly. Life is cheaper than apples these days.
They walked together on the broken pavement. The city smelled of dust and fried snacks. Rickshaws rushed past them like rushing dreams.
Why do you live so simply? Meera suddenly asked.
Aarav hesitated. Because simple life is… honest.
She nodded. I like honest people. Rich people scare me.
Those words stabbed him sweetly.
My father died five years ago, Meera said quietly. Since then, I stitch clothes to feed my mother. Big dreams are expensive.
Aarav wanted to tell her the truth.
He wanted to say, I can change everything.
But instead, he said, You're strong.
I have to be, she smiled. Love doesn't pay rent.
They sat on a bench near a small temple. Bells rang softly. An old man fed pigeons nearby.
Do you believe in love? Meera asked.
Aarav looked at her. I believe in love without price tags.
She smiled at that.
From that day, they met often.
Tea stalls became their restaurants.
The footpath became their park.
Aarav hid his watch.
He used an old phone.
He never let her see his real world.
One evening, rain surprised them. They ran under a tin roof outside a closed shop.
You'll catch cold, Meera said, removing her dupatta and placing it on his shoulders.
Aarav froze.
No woman had ever given him something without asking for something back.
Why are you smiling? Meera asked.
Because… no one ever cared like this.
She looked down. We poor people know how to care.
Rain fell harder. Their hands touched.
Neither pulled away.
Aarav, she whispered, what do you dream of?
A small house. A peaceful wife. No lies.
She looked at him, confused by his last word.
My dream, she said softly, is a man who doesn't leave when money is low.
Aarav's heart shook.
He knew one truth:
If she discovered who he really was,
this fragile love might die.
But love made him selfish.
He did not want to lose her.
So he chose silence.
And silence became his biggest lie.
That night, in his dark room, Aarav stared at the ceiling.
For the first time in his life,
being rich felt like a curse.
Because the woman he loved…
loved a poor man.
And somewhere far away, his company board prepared a meeting.
A storm was coming.
One that would expose everything.