Chapter 19

The thing about realizations?

They don't hit you all at once.

They creep up on you, slowly, bit by bit, until one day you wake up and everything feels different.

I had always wanted to be Mehul's friend. Nothing more.

But now…

Now, I was painfully aware of every single moment I spent around him.

The way my attention always drifted toward him.

The way my day felt slightly off if I didn't talk to him.

The way I wanted to hear him say my name just one more time.

And the worst part?

I had no idea what to do about it.

The breakroom was crowded, filled with the usual office gossip, the clinking of cutlery, and the faint scent of chai and lunchboxes.

I had barely taken two steps inside when I spotted him.

Mehul, sitting alone at the far end of the room, typing something on his phone with one hand, a cup of black coffee in the other.

His sleeves were rolled up again.

Because of course they were.

I should've just gotten my food and sat anywhere else. But my feet? They had other plans. Before I even thought it through, I was already sitting across from him.

Mehul glanced up. "Again?"

I grinned.

Mehul sighed, but he didn't tell me to leave.

Progress.

I picked up my sandwich, taking a bite. "So . What do you do for fun?"

Mehul barely looked up from his phone. "Why?"

I shrugged. "You don't talk about yourself much."

Mehul took a sip of his coffee. "There's nothing to talk about."

I scoffed. "Oh, come on. Everyone has something. Movies? Music? Secret hobbies?"

Mehul hummed, like he was actually considering it. Then, finally, he said, "I like chess."

I blinked. That… actually made sense.

"You would," I muttered.

Mehul arched an eyebrow. "And you?"

I paused mid-bite.

Wait.

Did he just… ask about me?

I quickly swallowed. "I like… uh, watching random documentaries. And trying new restaurants."

Mehul nodded. "That explains a lot."

I frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Mehul just went back to his phone.

And somehow, that single conversation felt more personal than anything else we'd ever talked about.

I was not obsessed.

But… I was maybe a little too aware of him now.

So when we both ended up reaching for the sugar packet at the same time, my brain completely short-circuited.

Our fingers brushed.

It lasted half a second.

A normal, accidental touch.

But my pulse? It had other ideas.

I let go first, clearing my throat. "Wow. Fighting over sugar now? New low for us."

Mehul just looked at me, unreadable.

Then, completely ignoring my dramatic reaction, he tore the packet open and poured half into his coffee.

Then—**without looking up—**he slid the rest toward me.

I stared.

…What the hell was that?

I picked it up slowly, my fingers curling around the small packet, suddenly feeling way too warm.

I poured it into my chai, trying to act normal. (Failing.)

The silence stretched.

Mehul took a sip of his coffee, completely unaffected.

Meanwhile, I was losing my mind.

Because, apparently, my heart had decided that sharing sugar was now a life-altering event.