Love Officially

Citation preview

LOVE OFFICIALLY by Sudha Nair Remember the time when you were young and life was full of confusing choices? What if you didn’t know which was the right choice to make? What if your whole life depended on that choice? Take a nostalgic trip down memory lane. Read this sweet office romance story to find out how Meera faces the challenge of choosing the right man! *** ‘Hey, want to go out for coffee?’ Meera looked up from her messy desk. Elbows propped on her office cubicle wall, Vivek beseeched her with puppy eyes. She threw him a quick ‘No!’ and went back to rummaging for those client requirements that she’d jotted down after the customer call that morning. ‘Oh, come on,’ Vivek said, blocking her entrance, his hands spanning the width. ‘You need a break.’ She rolled her eyes at him. Did he think she wanted to start the office gossip mill rolling by going out alone with him? ‘I was only suggesting a cup of coffee!’ Then, ‘Hey!’ as he moved the tiny clay Ganesha out of the way before she knocked it down in her frenzied search. ‘Shall we call Shabnam too?’ Shabnam—smart, well-dressed, and always the first to know what was going on in the office—was her bestie at work. As if on cue, Shabnam came over. ‘Hey there, you two!’ Her face was flushed, and she couldn’t help giving Vivek a flirty smile. ‘Guess what?!’

Head bent over her desk, Meera said, ‘What?’ Then, suddenly, she came upon the rogue documents she’d been looking for. ‘There you are!’ She put them right on top of her to-do box and turned to Shabnam. ‘One of us will get that transfer to the US this month.’ Shabnam bounced up and down. ‘The boss is going to announce it in a couple of days.’ Meera’s heart missed a beat. This was what she’d been waiting for. Please, please, let it be me, she said a little mental prayer. ‘Well!’ Vivek said. ‘Another of his marketing ploys.’ He turned to Shabnam. ‘By the way, Shabnam, do you want to go out for coffee?’ ‘Really?’ Shabnam shrieked. Some heads in the other cubicles turned towards them. Shabnam glanced around, a bit abashed, then turned back to Vivek, all smiles. ‘With us?’ Vivek’s face broke into an amused grin. Shabnam’s face fell but she recovered quickly. ‘Sure!’ Vivek raised an eyebrow at Meera, then stuck out his hand to help her up from her seat. Without thinking, she nestled her hand into his. Her hand tingled at his touch, sending spirals of warmth up her arm. She jerked it away as soon as she was up. On the way to the cafeteria, the girls needed to use the restroom, so Vivek went on ahead. ‘You see how he can’t take his eyes off you!’ Shabnam said, as she did an ‘O’ in front of the mirror and touched up her lipstick. ‘You should give him a break.’ A smile played on Meera’s lips. ‘You want him? He’s all yours.’ Shabnam pouted. ‘I wish he’d shown the slightest bit of interest in me.’ She brushed her hair till it shone while Meera waited. Then she lined her beautiful eyes with kohl. ‘He’s handsome, eligible and so hot!’

Meera didn’t deny his hotness factor. It made her blush, every time she thought about him. But, she’d decided, she wasn’t going to let romance ruin her chances for the transfer that she’d been waiting for, for a long time. ‘What I need is that transfer. Then I can get away from home and not have to meet men I don’t like.’ She let out a long sigh. ‘I can’t wait!’ ‘What you really need is a good man who loves you.’ Shabnam pursed her lips. ‘Like him.’ Meera sniffed. ‘How can I be so sure he loves me? For all you know, it’s just a fling. It’s only been two months since he joined.’ ‘He has eyes only for you,’ Shabnam said. ‘‘You’re smart, attractive and sweet. Only you don’t know it yourself.’ ‘And you’re the best friend in the whole world.’ Meera squeezed her into a hug. When they reached the crowded cafeteria, they found Vivek seated at a corner spot. ‘I’ve already ordered three coffees, a masala dosa for Shabnam and two pav bhajis for us,’ he said to Meera, as they took their seats at the tiny round table. ‘How did you know I love masala dosa?’ Shabnam looked up at him and fluttered her eyelashes. Meera loved watching Shabnam flirt. He played along. ‘Because I have a good memory.’ Shabnam’s slap at his hand made him grin. The waiter arrived with their food and coffee. ‘You shouldn’t have ordered pav bhaji for me,’ Meera said. ‘It’s too much!’ ‘Why? Are you on a diet?’ Shabnam winked at her. ‘Is someone coming to see you again?’ Vivek choked on his coffee. ‘Oh!’ His hands flew up to rub the quick spreading brown stain off his shirt.

Meera wished Shabnam would stop being such a blabbermouth. Vivek’s face had grown darker. He was staring down at his coffee. She couldn’t tell what was wrong with him all of a sudden. Clueless about the impact her words had had, Shabnam egged Meera on for more details. ‘It’s my parents,’ Meera said, shrugging it off. ‘I’ve tried but they won’t stop calling boys home to see me.’ ‘Do you know who it is, this time?’ Shabnam asked, as Vivek’s ears perked up. ‘All I could gather was that he works in the US.’ She took a long sip of coffee, hoping that that would be the end of the discussion. ‘So he can so be your ticket to the US?’ She glared at Shabnam. ‘Don’t be silly. As if I’d marry somebody just for that.’ Then she slid a glance in Vivek’s direction. He had gone back to his coffee. ‘Talking of the US,’ Shabnam started again, ‘who do you think is going to get this transfer?’ I hope it’s me, Meera thought. That way I can escape awkward meetings with suitors. ‘It’s going to be one heck of a great experience to work in California,’ Vivek said, sounding excited. ‘From what I’ve heard, the assignment will be for three years. I’d love to go but I’m new to this office. I’m sure you guys have a better chance.’ ‘Oh, you’re smart,’ Shabnam blurted. ‘You do have a chance.’ They discussed a few more likely candidates, and all of their own chances, and then Shabnam had to go because she had a phone call. ‘Shall we go too?’ Meera said, looking around at the crowded cafeteria and wondering if she recognized anyone that she knew. He leaned forward and smiled. ‘But we haven’t finished our conversation.’

She didn’t know why but she felt like a deer caught in the headlights. ‘What do you mean?’ He leaned closer and tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. ‘Why are you so afraid of going out with me?’ ‘Stop that!’ She swatted his hand away. ‘Someone will see.’ ‘You’re being paranoid,’ he said, laughing. ‘Just tell me you’re not attracted to me like I am to you and I’ll leave you alone.’ His eyes shone like a baby’s. With how close he was leaning towards her, and his eyes daring her, she just couldn’t think straight. Uff! ‘Don’t be so pushy!’ She shoved his chest. He caught her hand and wouldn’t let go. ‘You’re this amazing woman that I want to know better. Won’t you give me a chance?’ ‘Look, Vivek,’ she said, wriggling her hand free. ‘I don’t want this…us to ruin my job.’ He let out a whoosh of breath. ‘Okay,’ he said, raising his hands in a defensive gesture. ‘I know you have an independent streak. You’re charming and incredibly delightful to talk to.’ He ran his fingers through his hair. ‘And here it goes.’ He held her gaze as he said the words softly, ‘I think I’m falling in love with you. All I’m asking is to give me a chance.’ The waiter came to take away their empty cups and plates, and she smiled to herself, watching how he was helping the guy along, impatient for him to leave. Twisting the end of her dupatta, she waited for them to be alone again. After the waiter left, he looked at her, one eyebrow raised, waiting for her reply. ‘I don’t think romance at work is a good thing. So, either you’ll have to quit or I’ll have to.’ She shrugged, faking sassiness while inwardly groaning. Both choices sounded terrible. Did her self-imposed rule about office romance even make sense? His shoulders drooped. ‘So, do people working together never fall in love?’ ‘They probably do. I’m just not one of them,’ she was quick to retort.

‘All this excuse about working together is BS,’ he said, calling her bluff. ‘You know you don’t care about that—’ ‘I do!’ Just then the waiter sauntered over again with the bill. Vivek pulled out his wallet at the same time that Meera took out her purse. ‘Let me,’ he said to her. ‘Consider it my best wishes for the latest man who’s coming to see you.’ Meera frowned at him. ‘Though I really hope he’s horrible.’ He grinned. ‘If you need more time to get to know me, I’m willing to wait.’ He winked at her. ‘Hopefully you’ll change your mind before you or I are transferred out of here.’ He chuckled to make light of it but Meera’s heart beat so hard she could almost hear it. Together they rose to leave, with Vivek coming up right behind her. As she stood up, she felt a strong tug at her dupatta. It pulled her backwards and she fell straight up against his chest. Strong arms held her steady. ‘Sorry,’ he said, his breath blowing across her ear, his baritone making her toes curl. Her throat went dry. There was a brief pause and the next moment, he lifted his foot off her dupatta and released her. ‘Thanks!’ Gosh! She felt her cheeks burn as she looked everywhere but at him. She so wished, after it was over, that she could have snuggled closer for longer. *** Meera sensed trouble as soon as she unlocked the front door and stepped into her home. Fresh white lilies adorned the corner vase, plumped and tidied cushions beautified the olive sofa, and the entire house looked spruced up.

Her dad wasn’t in the living room, lounging on his favourite place, the sofa, crushing tired cushions under his back as he read the newspapers at this time of the evening. Neither was her mum in the verandah, resting on the cane swing, sipping her tea and leafing through the magazines she brought home every day, with her library subscription. No TV played in the background. Apart from the regular crack of a ball and whoops from the boys playing cricket outside the window, silence pervaded the living room. Meera looked around puzzled. As she made her way towards the aroma of fresh fried samosas wafting from the kitchen, her dad strode into the room. ‘Aha, there you are!’ He looked around with pride. ‘All done!’ Meera knit her eyebrows. ‘Who are we expecting today, Papa? Anyone special?’ Her dad frowned. ‘You forgot? Go get dressed quickly. Ma has everything ready for you in your room. They’ll be here any minute.’ Meera clucked her tongue. ‘Who will be here?’ ‘The boy and his family.’ He cut Meera off before she could open her mouth and complain. ‘I know…I know what you’re going to say. But I will have none of it. My word is final. Now go to your room and change before they get here.’ Meera plonked right there on the sofa and crossed her arms over her chest. This was happening today? This bride-seeing, family tour charade. ‘No, Papa. I don’t want to go through this drama again. You promised.’ ‘Then you bring home a man we approve of and we won’t go through this again.’ She uncrossed her arms and crossed them again. ‘How many times must I tell you that I’m NOT ready now.’ Her dad’s eyes bulged and his nostrils quivered. ‘You can decide that, but that doesn’t mean we sit around and do nothing while you grow older every day and remain unmarried…till we can do nothing even if we tried.’

‘Have I told you not to try, Papa?’ Meera rose. ‘But must you invite all these people home and parade me in front of so many strangers?’ ‘It’s part of our custom,’ her dad said, swinging his arms about in rage. ‘It’s what we followed and our parents followed. What should I tell my brothers and sisters whose children are settled already? That I’m no good at finding a boy for my girl? That I’m useless? Is that what you want them to think?’ His voice thundered across the room and he broke into an ear-splitting cough. Her mum stormed into the room just as Meera grasped her dad’s arm to calm him down and he tried to push her away. Her mum pulled Meera aside. ‘What is up with both of you? The guests will be here any minute and you are fighting like cats and dogs.’ Her dad’s cough stopped for a moment. ‘Vidya, didn’t you tell her?’ Coughs racked his chest again. Her mum wiggled her finger at Meera. ‘This is why…this is exactly why I didn’t tell you about it this morning. I knew you’d create a scene.’ She scowled at her husband. ‘You happy now, Vinod?’ Then she snapped at Meera, ‘Now what are you waiting for? Go change and we’ll talk it out later.’ ‘I won’t say yes if I’m not happy. You can’t force me.’ Her dad stopped coughing and glared at her. ‘Did you know what happened to Mr. Sen’s daughter? Married some gora finally. What’s the use, I say? How will I show my face to my family?’ Meera felt her cheeks burn. ‘So, I’m the next sacrificial lamb. Oh no! I’m going to the US next month on a new assignment. The approval is coming through and I’m sure they’ll send me. I’m going whether I’m married or not. Whether you like it or not! I’m not getting forced into marriage. Not by you! Not by Mum! And not by Grandma.’ She stomped out of the living room. ‘Yes, go,’ her dad yelled. ‘But I will continue to invite suitors while you’re still here.’ Her mum followed her into her room, tut-tutting anxiously.

Meera took one look at the fine clothes laid out on her bed, and began changing into her workout clothes. She’d have been at badminton practice now if the boy hadn’t been coming. Her mum glared at her, horrified. ‘Isn’t Papa doing this for your own good?’ Then, in her scolding voice, she said, ‘Change into what I’ve taken out for you.’ Meera plonked on the bed, refusing to do as asked, and lay sprawled, her limbs thrown in all four directions. Her mum stood at the foot of the bed, towering over her, her hands akimbo. ‘What are you doing? They’ll be here now.’ Meera shut her eyes and buried her face into a pillow. ‘Okay, okay!’ her mother said, mellowing down a little. ‘This is the last time we’ll ask you to see a boy. So be a good girl and get dressed.’ Meera still refused to budge. ‘You always say that.’ Her voice came out muffled from under the pillow. Her mum tsk-tsked. ‘Now act like a grown-up, Meera. Do you know why I agreed to this boy? He works in America. So it will be good for you, no? Both of you can live together and work together. Do you know how long Papa took to find this match?’ Her dad had been scouring through matrimony websites for months. He’d created a spreadsheet of boys in the alphabetical order of their names, date of birth, star sign, horoscope details. He’d painstakingly noted down phone numbers and called each one up. Many rejections later, he produced one decent match only to have it rejected by Meera because she didn’t like the boy’s looks, nose, height, weight, or whatever she didn’t feel like liking. Her mum tsk-tsked again. ‘Now get up, Meera. Dress up quickly. They’ll be here any minute.’ She placed the boy’s photo on the bed on her way out. ‘He’s quite good looking, I think.’ Meera heard the smile in her mother’s last words and groaned. It was getting more and more difficult to reject the boys these days. Even if she rejected this one for some silly

reason, her dad would start all over again. Over and over again until she’d have absolutely no excuses left. *** ‘Meera!’ A few minutes later, her mum called again at her door. ‘Are you ready?’ Meera hmphed and took off her sweatshirt. She slipped her arms into the pink brocade choli that was spread out on the bed and tied it around her back, struggling with two sets of dainty strings. The headband came off next. She pulled on the purple lehenga over her sweatpants and knotted it at her hips. Did it matter what she wore under her lehenga? She draped the dupatta casually on her shoulders and she was all set. This was the outfit she’d worn at the last of her unmarried cousin’s wedding a few months ago. She did not bother to take off her sneakers, instead tugged at the lehenga’s hem to hide them. She glanced at herself in the mirror and made a face. She felt great about the weight she’d lost in the past months. A bit of navel showed above the lehenga, her stomach looked firm and toned. Her cheeks had lost some of the baby fat too. She licked the leftover lipstick on her lips and touched them up with gloss. As she waited for the guests to arrive, sweat trickled down her back, dampening her choli. She wished she were back in her grandma’s house in Mangurushi, a sleepy, rural village in Cannanore, Kerala, enveloped in thick tropical foliage and cool evening breezes. That’s where she and her cousins used to meet during their school summer holidays. The summers were spent swinging on the wooden makeshift swing tied to the champa tree, or scouring the property for mangoes and berries with her cousins. Mangoes glistened in the sun and the fruits hung seductively from the branches. Her cousins, all girls, climbed up the trees, and remained outdoors all day. In the evenings, they plunged into grandma’s pond, just inside the boundary wall of her ten-acre plot that encircled her ancestral house with rubber, chickoo, coconut, cashew and mango trees. What fun it was to wade in the shallow pond and frolic until late evening! Then off came the clothes and the girls swam naked in the fading evening light. As if they knew

what the girls would be up to, boys from the neighbourhood would climb and perch on the boundary wall, hidden, until one of the girls spotted them and pelted stones at them till they jumped off, whooping and laughing at the shamelessness of city girls. All her cousins were married now, juggling the roles of a good daughter-in-law, a good wife, and a good mother, their past lives obscured by the need to fit in with their new families. Her aunts and uncles lived in a mixed state of relief and resignation, each daughter’s fate at the mercy of a stranger and his family in an arranged marriage. Meera shuddered at the thought of such a fate. She picked up the photo that her mum had left on the bed and peered at it. It surprised her that the boy looked good, handsome even. Her parents had become smarter with time. They’d begun doing a lot of ground work, recently. Multiple photos of the boy were demanded: full-length, front-view, side-view; everything was considered minutely. Horoscopes were checked, phone conversations and family backgrounds investigated, both families met before Meera even saw the boy. It was getting harder and harder to reject such proposals. In the past, Meera had tried every tactic she could think of. When she and the boy were alone during the first meeting, she faked a stutter, or imitated a hyena’s laugh, or spun some concocted tale about her career ambitions and not wanting to have babies until she was forty. The ensuing rejections perplexed her parents. Nevertheless it did not stop new proposals from trickling in. And now this. She sighed and threw the photo back on the bed. This would hopefully be the last if her company sent her to the US. She was hungry all of a sudden. The thought of the samosas set her stomach rumbling. She was just about to sneak into the kitchen and grab a couple of them when the doorbell rang. The guests had arrived. *** Meera walked into the living room with the tray of tea and goodies. The heady fragrance of masala chai wafting from the teapot made her yearn for some herself. She

placed it on the table and sat down. Outside the window, the cricket game was brought to an abrupt halt as a bunch of boys cried foul, and a fight erupted. She kept her head lowered and watched the jug of icy water sweat on the table in front of her. There wasn’t much to say or do except when the boy’s family moved to another room to let them talk to each other. When they left, she raised her head to look at him furtively, taking in his clothes, his hair, his entire appearance. He sat on one corner of the sofa, his tall frame sinking into the cushions. He wore black rimmed glasses and his slightly receding hairline gave him a seventies movie star look. ‘Hi’, I’m Vivek,’ he said, and stuck out his hand. She looked up at him in surprise, startled at the name, and slowly extended her own. ‘Meera.’ His hands went back on his lap after the brief handshake. She noticed his legs slightly crossed, his glasses perched right on the bridge of his nose, and his lips curved into a gentle smile. He looked her over and suddenly his gaze stopped at her feet. He gave out a soft chuckle. Meera noticed her sneakers peeking out. She tucked them under her lehenga quickly. ‘So you weren’t expecting me?’ he said, smiling. ‘No, it was kind of a surprise.’ She lowered her gaze back to her feet, making sure the sneakers remained hidden, and waited for the ‘interview’ to begin. She hated the questions she was asked every time: where did you study, where do you work, will you be willing to give up work after marriage? ‘Will you have some tea?’ The inflection in his voice was so gentle. The others never wasted precious time before the interrogation. He lifted the teapot to pour some tea for her. ‘Yes…no,’ she stuttered, wondering what to say. A thwack sounded outside the window just then. A ball bounced into their verandah.

Vivek put the pot down and rose, smiling. ‘Looks like an intense game of cricket out there.’ He pointed to the verandah and motioned for her to lead the way outside. ‘Shall we rescue their ball?’ She opened the tall glass windows and they stepped outside. Sure enough the ball lay there in a corner. He picked it up and went to the railing. A crowd of boys had gathered below, eyes looking up expectantly. He threw the ball down to them, and one of them caught it. The boys whooped and went back to their game. He turned to her. ‘Is it okay if we stay here for a bit?’ They stood against the railing and gazed outside for several minutes. ‘It’s very difficult for me…this arranged marriage thing,’ he began. ‘I’ve always found it awkward to meet with parents. What about you?’ ‘Me too.’ He chuckled. ‘This is my first. I agreed because I liked your photo but your dad refused to let me meet you alone.’ She snorted, thinking about her dad and how adamant he was. ‘I work for a software company in California.’ That set off a discussion about her work. They talked some more about his life and his struggle to find a person he liked. ‘Your mum spoke of how you’ve rejected all the proposals in the past,’ he said. ‘I hope mine won’t join the list. I hope you’ll give me a chance.’ The words sparked a recent memory. Her throat felt constricted. She felt torn between accepting this Vivek or the one in her office, waiting for her every day, trying so hard. What was she to do? ‘What are you thinking?’ ‘I’m in love with somebody else,’ she blurted out.

After a moment of silence, he was laughing hard. ‘It’s funny,’ he said. ‘I knew you might say that. After all the proposals you’ve rejected. Is this a ploy to get rid of me?’ She smiled weakly, not sure what to make of the surprise she had sprung on herself. Silence reigned for another long moment. Then, she told him all about Vivek from work, and her own office romance hangups that’d had her tied up in knots. ‘I think I’ve been in love with him all this time,’ she said, finally feeling surer of herself. ‘But I don’t know what to do.’ The corners of his eyes drooped. ‘I see.’ He watched her for a few moments, as if he were expecting her to change her mind. She glanced back at him, unwavering. ‘Then you should confess and go after your heart.’ But what if he’s not interested anymore, she thought now, almost panicking. Their conversation ended. He gave her a brief smile and gestured that they go back inside. At the door, he turned to her. ‘I’m just a phone call away if you change your mind.’ Was she going to chicken out now? ‘I won’t.’ They returned to the living room, he, forcing a smile on his way out, and she, trying to avoid the curious looks of her family. A huge argument started that night, and Meera had to shut herself in her room after that. *** When Meera reached the office the next morning, everyone was already gathered in the conference room, awaiting the big announcement.

She rushed towards the room with her coffee, her heart thudding. ‘And the lucky person to be offered a transfer this year’ — She’d made it through the door on time to catch the most important piece — ‘is Vivek Menon.’ The applause resounded through the room. Vivek beamed, and accepted the barrage of compliments. Meera slunk away to the bathroom before anyone could see her. Shabnam found her there a quarter of an hour later. ‘What are you doing here?’ She jabbed the handkerchief into her eyes to stop the irrational flow of large tears. ‘Nothing.’ Her voice came out strangled. ‘Are you upset that you didn’t make the transfer?’ ‘I don’t even care about it anymore!’ Shabnam pulled at her handkerchief and wouldn’t give up until it was off her face. ‘Tell me what’s happened.’ ‘I rejected the most deserving man who came to see me yesterday.’ She hiccuped. ‘For Vivek,’ she said, bawling again. ‘And now he got the transfer and he’ll be gone too.’ Her chest heaved with the effort. ‘Stop it,’ Shabnam consoled her. ‘He hasn’t gone yet. Did he get a chance to talk to you at the cafeteria?’ Her tears dried up as if by magic. ‘How did you know about that?’ ‘How else?” Shabnam said, pursing her lips. ‘He wouldn’t leave me alone until I promised I’d leave you two alone for a bit.’ ‘What’s the use now?’ Meera’s hiccups started off again. ‘I said no to him too.’ That restarted such forceful sobs that it hurt her stomach. Shabnam stroked her hair until she’d calmed down.

‘I feel worse about losing him now more than I do about the transfer.’ She looked up at Shabnam. ‘Does that make any sense?’ Shabnam laughed. ‘I think you’re in love.’ She nudged her out of the bathroom. Meera went back to her cubicle and bent down on her desk. She didn’t want to see anyone or speak to anyone. She’d just go home and spend the rest of her life wondering if she’d got anything right till date. There was a knock at her cubicle. She looked up. ‘Hi!’ Vivek was back and he was smiling. ‘You look terrible. Are you okay?’ She rolled her eyes and bent back at her desk. ‘Hey!’ He came around and squatted on the floor beside her chair. ‘Is it about the transfer?’ She shook her head. ‘Shabnam told me that you refused the new proposal?’ She looked at him through a puddle that had formed in her eyes. ‘Shabnam’s talking to you behind my back?’ He slapped his forehead. ‘No, stupid! I asked her.’ ‘I didn’t want you to know about the proposal.’ She couldn’t recognize her own whiny voice. He touched her arm. ‘Was it for me?’ She shrugged her arm free. Just then, she got a call into her boss’s office. It was at the same time that Shabnam rushed into her cubicle and accosted Vivek. ‘Hey, I heard you refused the transfer?’

Meera turned around in disbelief. ‘What?’ ‘I don’t want to go,’ Vivek said, rising and leaning against her desk. ‘I’ve asked him to consider you instead.’ Meera couldn’t believe her ears. ‘But why?’ ‘Since you need it more than me, I thought you should have it.’ He really cared for her that much to give up his transfer? Wait! He wanted her to go? ‘But that means we won’t be working together?’ He crossed his arms. ‘At least neither of us has to quit for you to consider my proposal again.’ As she looked at him in disbelief, his face split into a slow wide smile. She felt her legs wobble even as relief swept through her. She took in a deep breath to calm down. ‘Vivek, thank you,’ she said, forming the words slowly, even as her heart broke into a crazy dance. ‘But I’m going to refuse the transfer too!’ It was his turn to look bewildered. ‘Why?’ She couldn’t contain the joy bursting through her heart any longer. Her lips trembled as she tried to hide her smile. ‘Because I wouldn’t be able to accept your proposal from so many miles away.’ Vivek’s eyes went wide as the import of the words sank in. He whooped. ‘Really?!’ Shabnam suddenly began to clap, much to Meera’s intense mortification. The heads in the other cubicles turned to stare at her. ‘Sorry!’ Shabnam said, and turned around and whispered, ‘This is what I call’—and she put on air-quotes—‘love officially.’ Meera laughed and headed to her boss’s cabin, her fingers crossed.