A Forgotten Name

"Sir, you called for me?"

Aashvi, already teetering on the edge of irritation, forced a smile as she glared at Garvit, who sat across the desk, leisurely spinning in his chair while tossing a stress ball between his fingers like he had all the time in the world.

Sensing the underlying frustration in her voice, Garvit brought his self-made amusement park ride to an abrupt stop and lifted his gaze to her. No—lifted was too soft a word. He scanned her, top to bottom, with the intensity of an airport security check.

Then, setting his stress ball aside, he flashed a mischievous grin and, in his signature flirty tone, declared—

"Aashvi… oh Aashvi! My brilliant, sharp-witted, and absolutely gorgeous secretary!"

Aashvi rolled her eyes so hard that for a second, she feared they might just get stuck at the back of her skull.

"Sir, please… can we get to the point? What do you want?"

"A party!"

"A party?"

She squinted at him, wondering if she had misheard. And just to be sure, she asked again. "A party?"

"Yes! A grand party! One so extravagant that people start questioning their life choices!" Garvit's eyes gleamed with excitement.

Aashvi massaged her temples. "And may I ask, what exactly are we celebrating, sir?" She dragged out the "sir" with enough sarcasm to fill a swimming pool.

Garvit beamed, puffing out his chest. "Why, to honor my greatness, of course!"

"Oh, dear God…" Aashvi muttered under her breath, cursing her self-obsessed boss.

Here we go again.

"So… this is a self-appreciation party, is it?"

Garvit nodded with the innocence of a saint. "Exactly! But also for business networking… and a little romance!"

Aashvi blinked. "Wait. Hold on. Romance?"

Garvit closed his eyes, exhaling dreamily as if already lost in the vision.

"Just imagine… Me, in a dashing tuxedo, the star of the evening, all eyes on me. And you—"

"And I what, sir?" Aashvi crossed her arms.

Garvit leaned forward, winking. "My date, of course!"

Aashvi inhaled deeply, gripping the edge of the desk like it was her last anchor to sanity.

Everything is fine. Everything is fine.

"So, basically, we have no actual work to do, is that it?"

Garvit smirked, resting both hands on the desk. "Oh, but this is work!"

Aashvi exhaled sharply. "Alright, sir… Any special requirements?"

"Yes! First, check this guest list."

Garvit handed her a paper. As Aashvi scanned through it, her eyebrows kept climbing higher.

This man is insane.

"Bollywood celebrities, sports personalities, politicians, businessmen, the mayor—" She looked up, flashing him a painfully fake smile. "Sir, I think you forgot to invite the President of India."

Garvit snapped his fingers. "Oh! Thank God you reminded me! What would I do without you?" Then, grinning, he added, "By the way… you have his number, right?"

Aashvi groaned, pressing her forehead against her palm. Does this man even understand sarcasm?

"Should we discuss the menu now, sir?" she asked, determined to drag this conversation back to reality.

Garvit, now fully in his element, clapped his hands. "Yes! Gold-flaked sushi, edible flowers, and a chocolate fountain so massive that even birds can take a dip in it!"

Aashvi deadpanned. "So the theme is—burn money for no reason?"

"And luxury!" Garvit corrected. "Oh, and make sure the waiters speak in a fancy accent!"

Aashvi mockingly put on a posh tone. "Ah, Monsieur, would you like to inhale some gold dust with your caviar?"

Garvit burst out laughing. "See? This is why I keep you around!"

Aashvi smirked. "I thought it was because no one else could tolerate you."

Garvit nodded thoughtfully. "That too!"

(She shook her head, pulling out her notepad.)

"Fine. I'll arrange the party. But if you so much as try to flirt with me—"

Garvit grinned. "Then you'll admit you're secretly into me?"

Aashvi's smile was angelic. "No. I'll spike your champagne with vinegar."

Garvit gasped in horror. "WHAT?! Do you know I could die from vinegar? You're ruthless!"

Aashvi's grin widened. "Well, you are my mentor, sir!"

"Any other tasks? No? Great. I'll be on my way, sir. Because, unlike some people, I actually have work to do."

She shot him a smirk before heading for the door.

Garvit simply watched her go, thoroughly entertained—and, if he admitted it, impressed.

"Aashvi, this tension between us—it's electric, you know!" he called after her.

Without turning around, Aashvi muttered under her breath—"That's not tension. That's just my overwhelming urge to electrocute you."

---

And then… everything came to a screeching halt.

"Hey buddy, Nidan! How are you doing, man?"

The moment Garvit uttered that name, Aashvi's feet froze mid-step.

It was as if the ground beneath her had suddenly turned to quicksand.

Nidan.

Her breath hitched. She whipped around so fast that Garvit actually raised an eyebrow.

"What?" he asked, still on the phone, noticing her sudden change in demeanor.

Her throat ran dry. She tried to speak, but all she could manage was—

"…Did you just say Nidan?"

Garvit put his call on hold, looking at her with genuine concern now. "Yeah… Why?"

Aashvi shook her head rapidly. "No reason. Nothing at all."

She forced herself to breathe normally, convincing herself it had to be a coincidence.

She turned back toward the door.

"Don't be ridiculous, Aashvi. Nidan isn't an uncommon name. There are over 7 billion people in the world. There must be hundreds of Nidans."

But logic held no power over a heart caught in the grip of old wounds.

A single name had shattered her carefully built composure.

And now, she was drowning in the storm of memories…

Memories of him.

Of her Nidan.