Chapter 7 - night alone

It was 7 PM, and the office was almost empty. The other departments had long since packed up for the day, leaving the development block eerily quiet. The only sound was the steady clatter of Hema’s fingers on the keyboard as she worked tirelessly. Her face was focused, her posture rigid as she leaned slightly toward the monitor, typing with determination.

Arvind, who had returned to check on her, stood beside her desk, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his trousers. “Hema, it’s getting late. Let me wait for you. I’ll drop you home.”

Hema stopped typing briefly, her hands resting on the desk as she looked up at him. Her expression was calm but firm. “Arvind, I appreciate it, but I’m fine. You should go home. Your family must be waiting.”

Arvind frowned, his posture slumping slightly as he leaned one hand on the back of her chair. “You know I don’t mind waiting. You’re pushing yourself too much.”

Hema smiled faintly, her tired eyes softening. “I’ll manage, Arvind. Please, just go. I’ll leave once I’m done.”

He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she replied, her tone gentle but firm.

With a resigned sigh, Arvind straightened his posture and nodded. “Fine. But call me if you need anything, okay?”

“I will. Thank you.”

Reluctantly, Arvind left, throwing one last glance at her before walking away.

Meanwhile, in his private office, Chris Zayden was working intently on his tablet. His sleek shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, and his blazer rested on the back of his chair. His sharp gray eyes were focused on approving various reports and transactions. The faint glow of the tablet screen reflected on his face as he authorized a significant transfer of funds.

When he finally leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples, he glanced at the clock on the wall. It was 8 PM. He paused, realizing that Hema was still working.

Chris grabbed his blazer and stepped out of his office, his assistant Mark following closely behind. As they passed the development block, Chris halted abruptly, his sharp gaze falling on Hema, who was still typing away.

Her head was slightly bent, her hair falling over one shoulder. the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Her fingers moved tirelessly over the keyboard, her brows furrowed in concentration.

Chris turned to Mark and said in a low voice, “Tell her to stop working and leave. It’s late.”

Mark nodded and walked into the department. Clearing his throat, he said, “Miss Hema, Mr. Zayden says you can stop working now. You may leave.”

Hema barely glanced at him, her fingers still moving over the keyboard. “Thank you, but I still have a lot to finish. I’ll leave once I’m done.”

Mark hesitated, glancing over his shoulder at Chris, who was watching from the hallway. When Chris heard Hema’s refusal, his jaw tightened briefly, but he maintained his composed demeanor.

“Let her be,” Chris said curtly to Mark, his voice low and firm.

He walked away without another word, his footsteps echoing in the quiet hallway. Mark hurried to keep up with him.

As they exited the building, Chris glanced back at the lit windows of the development block. A part of him admired Hema’s determination, but another part of him bristled at her refusal to listen. “Stubborn,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

Yet, as he got into his car, he couldn’t shake the image of her working tirelessly, her posture radiating quiet strength despite her exhaustion.

……

The development block was eerily silent when Hema finally leaned back in her chair, her fingers trembling slightly as she hit save on the final document. The clock on the wall showed 11:15 PM. She stretched her arms above her head, her shoulders stiff and aching from sitting in the same position for hours. Her light blue kurta was slightly crumpled, her hair falling messily over her face.

Hema rubbed her eyes, her body screaming for rest. She hadn’t eaten all day, and now even the simple act of standing up felt like a monumental task. She gathered her bag and slung it over her shoulder, her movements sluggish. The lights in the department flickered slightly as she turned them off, the soft glow of the corridor lights guiding her way out.

As she stepped outside the company gates, the chill of the night air hit her. The streets were unusually quiet, the pitch darkness of the area amplifying her unease. Her tired legs wobbled slightly as she walked toward the main road, hoping to find an auto.

She pulled her phone out of her bag to check for missed calls and found several from her grandmother and Arvind. The concern in their voices earlier still lingered in her mind. Hema dialed her grandmother’s number, her voice steady despite her exhaustion.

“Dadi, I’m leaving now. Don’t worry, I’ll be home soon,” she said, forcing a calm tone.

“Hema, it’s so late! How will you get home? I’ll send Arvind to pick you up!” her grandmother exclaimed, her worry evident.

“I’m fine, Dadi. There’s no need to worry,” Hema reassured her . “I am in taxi and be home soon. You should rest. I’ll reach in 10 min.” At least this lie will give her peace.

Her grandmother hesitated before replying. “Okay, beta. Please be careful.”

As Hema ended the call, her phone vibrated again. This time it was Arvind. “Hema, where are you? Did you leave yet?” he asked anxiously.

“I’m heading home, Arvind. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine,” she replied, leaning against a lamppost as she spoke.

“Are you sure? I can come pick you up,” he insisted.

“I’m sure. I am on the way , coming in Taxi. Go to sleep,” she lied again, her tone firm but gentle.

After ending the call, Hema tried to book Taxi.

When she was about to book a cab.

“Oh…shit!!”

Phone switched off !!!