Mai nahi hasungi hasaane se bhi,
Mujhe ummeed nahi jamane se bhi.
Mere aansu sach me behte hain,
Jhooth lagenge magar dikhane se bhi.

(I will not laugh even if you try to make me smile, 
I have no hope, even if you try to give me one. 
My tears truly flow, 
But they will seem like lies, even if I show them.)

Zoya Farukhi grew up in a home where tradition and expectations reigned supreme. Her family, rooted in an orthodox Muslim background, had strict values and rigid ideals about what a daughter should be. Zoya's world was shaped by her parents' belief in upholding cultural values above all else, especially the role of a woman within their community.

From an early age, Zoya felt the weight of her family's expectations pressing down on her. Her father, a respected man in the local community, believed that a woman's place was in the home—taking care of family, supporting her husband, and adhering to the modesty that the family had long valued. Zoya's mother, too, though a gentle and caring woman, had internalized these beliefs and passed them on to her daughter. She often spoke about the importance of marriage, family, and modesty, and how a woman's ultimate purpose was to fulfill these roles.

Zoya was always the "good daughter," excelling in school to make her parents proud, obeying the rules, staying quiet in social situations, and never stepping out of line. But beneath the surface, there was a quiet rebellion brewing. Zoya had always been different. While the other girls in her community focused on marriage, household duties, and the idea of a "settled life," Zoya dreamed of more. She had a passion for fashion, a love for design, and an unyielding desire to express herself in ways that were far beyond the small world her parents had created for her.

Her childhood friend, Khushi Gupta, had always been her escape from this suffocating world. Khushi's family was everything Zoya's wasn't. Warm, supportive, and full of life, Khushi's parents welcomed her warmly. Khushi was the girl who wore bright colors, who spoke her mind, and who had a family that embrace her. Zoya envied Khushi's freedom, but most of all, she envied the love and warmth her friend received—something Zoya never quite felt from her own parents.

Khushi was her best friend, her confidante, the one person who understood her dreams and didn't judge her for them. Khushi, with her endless optimism and joy, was the sister Zoya had always longed for.

As Zoya grew older, the gap between her desires and her family's expectations widened. Her dreams of becoming a fashion designer were met with disdain and disbelief. Her parents, deeply traditional, insisted that she focus on preparing for marriage, learning household duties, and following the path they had mapped out for her. Fashion, they said, was a frivolous pursuit, not something a good Muslim girl would chase. "There is no place for such nonsense in our culture," her father would often say.

Zoya's frustration grew. She found herself caught between the world she was raised in and the world she yearned for. She wanted to make something of herself—not as a wife, but as a woman who could create, who could contribute to the world in a meaningful way. But every time she tried to bring up her ambitions, she was met with dismissive silence, harsh words, or the silent but suffocating weight of disappointment in her father's eyes.

It was the night of her 18th birthday when Zoya made the decision that would change the course of her life. Her father had arranged for a distant relative to meet her, a man he deemed "suitable" for marriage. Zoya knew, with painful certainty, that this was her future—an arranged marriage, a life dictated by others, a life that didn't include her dreams.

She left the house that night, without even a goodbye to her parents. She had nothing— just a little money that Garima aunty has forced her to take after knowing that she is planning to run away, no backup plan, just a burning desire to escape the life they had planned for her. She couldn't live another day pretending to be something she wasn't. So she packed a bag, walked out of the house, and didn't look back.

Zoya moved to Mumbai, where she took on odd jobs to survive. She worked as a waitress, as a retail assistant, and even as a cleaning lady at various fashion houses, all while attending design school at night. There was no one to support her, no family to call when things got hard. But Zoya's determination was ironclad. She worked tirelessly, learning everything she could about the fashion industry, developing her own style, and slowly, very slowly, building her reputation.

Her first real break came when she was 20. Zoya had spent years toiling away in anonymity, designing for small, local boutiques and gaining experience. Finally, one of her designs made it to a small fashion show, and the recognition she'd always longed for began to come her way. Her designs—modern, bold, and fresh—caught the attention of fashion critics. By the time she was 23, she became the head designer in AR.

Though she was proud of what she had built, Zoya still struggled with a deep emptiness. She had no family to celebrate with, no one to share her success with. She had achieved her dreams, yes, but at a cost. She had no one to love her. No one to support her when she faltered.

When Zoya heard about Khushi, looked at her, drained of all the colours which were once hers, she couldn't help but feel pity on that little girl Khushi once was.Zoya also began to feel helpless, watching Khushi suffer in ways that Zoya never had to.But it ached her heart to see that Khushi still had a family, a support system. Zoya had no one. She had fought for everything on her own, and yet here was Khushi—loved, supported, and surrounded by people who would drop everything for her. The bitterness in Zoya's heart was a quiet one, buried deep under layers of guilt, longing, and unspoken envy.

Even with her success, Zoya still felt the hollow ache inside her, an ache that only grew when she saw how Khushi was loved by her family. Zoya had escaped her family's control, but in doing so, she had also given up the very thing she had always longed for—love. She had built a life, but at the cost of everything else.

As Zoya watched Khushi fight through difficult times, there was a part of her that wanted to help but didn't know how. She couldn't offer Khushi the comfort she had received from her parents because Zoya had never received that comfort herself. And so, while Zoya was proud of what she had achieved, the emptiness of being alone in the world continued to haunt her, making it all the more painful to see Khushi surrounded by the love and support of her family.

She could never tell Khushi the truth—not about how much she admired her for having the family Zoya had always wanted, not about how much it hurt to see Khushi lean on her parents when Zoya was used to carrying everything by herself. Zoya didn't know how to be a part of Khushi's world—a world filled with love and care and connections that Zoya had been denied. She knows this feeling is not healthy and she is secretly taking therapy for the same.

Zoya Farukhi was not the type to fall for someone easily. After years of fighting for independence, carving out a career for herself, and learning to stand on her own two feet, she had no time for romance. Her heart was an intricate web of pain, longing, and the desire to be loved, but she had learned to lock it all away. She had made peace with the fact that love was something other people got, not someone like her. And after seeing Khushi, her believe from love has completely vanished.

But Aditya Roy, Arnav Singh Raizada's efficient, calm, and ever-so-charming PA, had a way of making her think otherwise.

It started on a day like any other. Zoya, working as one of the in-house designers for AR Group, was knee-deep in sketches and brainstorming sessions for the upcoming corporate fashion line. The office was buzzing with the usual energy, but Zoya found herself increasingly distracted by Aditya's presence.

Aditya was always around—his sharp suits, his quiet confidence, and the way he seemed to glide through the office without ever being in a rush. As Arnav's right-hand man, he was well-respected and maintained a professional distance from everyone. Yet, there was something in the way he treated Zoya that caught her off guard. He didn't treat her like just another employee. He looked at her like she mattered.

It was a Monday morning when it first happened. Zoya was sitting at her desk, trying to finish a design for a presentation when a warm cup of coffee suddenly appeared in front of her. She looked up, startled, to see Aditya standing there, his ever-present calm smile on his face.

"You look like you could use this," he said, with a light chuckle, handing her the coffee. "Zoya, right?"

Zoya blinked in surprise. She had seen him around the office but hadn't spoken to him much, especially since he worked so closely with Arnav. They were from different worlds—she was a designer, he was a PA to the new boss. But his gesture was kind, unassuming, and... unexpected.

"Uh, thank you, Aditya," Zoya said, her voice betraying a bit of uncertainty as she took the coffee. She wasn't used to people offering her help without ulterior motives.

Aditya leaned against her desk, still smiling. "No problem. I figured you could use a break from your sketches. You've been at it for hours."

Zoya felt her shoulders relax, the tension she didn't even know she was carrying easing. "I'm fine, really," she said, though her smile felt warmer than usual.

"Uh-huh," Aditya said, raising an eyebrow. "I've been told I have a pretty good eye for spotting exhaustion."

There was a soft, teasing tone to his voice, and something about it made Zoya feel... seen. Like she wasn't just another person in a corporate world, but someone worth paying attention to.

In the following weeks, Aditya and Zoya began to cross paths more often. At first, it was always just small, casual interactions. Aditya would occasionally stop by her desk, offering a cup of coffee or a quick comment on her designs. The two of them would talk about everything—work, fashion, and even a little about their lives outside the office.

Zoya started to look forward to those little moments. Aditya never made her feel pressured. He listened when she spoke about her dreams and ambitions, never interrupting, never dismissing her ideas. It was a stark contrast to how her family had always treated her—like her dreams were just a nuisance, something to be swept under the rug.

On one afternoon, when the office was quiet and the deadlines loomed large, Aditya and Zoya found themselves alone in the break room, grabbing lunch. The silence between them was comfortable, something Zoya wasn't used to but surprisingly enjoyed.

"You know, I don't think I've ever seen you this serious about a project," Aditya remarked, his voice low as he picked at his sandwich.

Zoya smiled, a bit sheepishly. "I take my work seriously. Fashion is more than just what people wear. It's art. It's expression."

Aditya nodded thoughtfully, then looked up at her. "You know, I admire that. A lot of people just think it's about looking good, but you... you see it differently."

Zoya felt a warmth spread in her chest. For once, someone was truly seeing her, not just as a designer, but as a person with a vision, with passion. It made her heart flutter.

As the conversation drifted from work to other things, Zoya found herself laughing more than usual. There was something about Aditya—his charm, his subtle humor—that made her feel lighter. And for the first time in a long while, Zoya didn't feel so alone.

It was one Friday afternoon when things between them began to shift.

Zoya was organizing her design files in the office when she noticed her phone buzzing with a message from Khushi. As she checked it, her fingers brushed against the edge of her desk, knocking over a stack of papers. She let out a frustrated sigh, bending down to gather them.

Aditya, who had just walked by, immediately turned back, offering a helping hand. Their fingers brushed lightly as he handed her the papers, and Zoya felt a strange twinge of electricity shoot through her fingertips. It wasn't a big moment, not anything overtly romantic, but it was enough to make her heart skip a beat.

"Careful there," Aditya said with a small, amused smile. "You've got quite the mess going on."

Zoya felt herself flush slightly, looking up to meet his eyes. There was a quiet understanding in them, a warmth that made her feel as if this small, accidental moment was more than just coincidence. For a second, it felt like the world outside of their small bubble didn't exist.

"Thanks," Zoya replied, her voice a little quieter than usual, her gaze lingering on him just a second too long before she quickly turned away.

Aditya didn't say anything further, but the look in his eyes lingered, a subtle acknowledgment that something had shifted between them. Zoya, still flustered, quickly gathered her things and returned to her work, but her mind was distracted, her thoughts spinning.

It wasn't long after that when Aditya took Zoya out for coffee one afternoon after work. The office was quiet, and they found themselves in a cozy café, sitting by the window. Zoya had been in a particularly introspective mood that day, thinking about her past—about her family, about the loneliness she often felt despite the success she had built for herself.

"You know," Aditya began after a long silence, his voice gentle, "I think you've got something special in you, Zoya. You might not realize it, but you're stronger than most people I know."

Zoya felt her breath catch at his words. "I don't feel strong," she said softly, her fingers nervously wrapping around her cup of coffee. "I feel like I'm constantly fighting to prove myself, to make up for everything I don't have."

Aditya leaned in slightly, his expression serious, but soft. "You don't need to prove anything to anyone, Zoya. You've already built something extraordinary by yourself. That's not easy. Trust me."

Zoya looked into his eyes, something in her chest tightening at his sincerity. She didn't know why, but in that moment, she believed him. He didn't look at her with pity or judgment—he just saw her, truly saw her.

There was a beat of silence, and then Zoya, her voice barely above a whisper, said, "I don't have anyone. No family to lean on. No one to share the hard moments with. I've always had to do everything alone."

Aditya's gaze softened, and for the first time, Zoya saw a flicker of something more in his eyes—a tenderness that she hadn't expected.

"Well," Aditya said, his voice low and reassuring, "you don't have to do everything alone, Zoya. Not anymore."

The words hung in the air between them, a subtle promise. Zoya felt her heart race, unsure of where this was going but not quite ready to pull away. For the first time in a long while, she felt a flicker of hope, like something beautiful might just be unfolding between them.

The moments between Zoya and Aditya continued to build, slowly and tenderly. They shared more laughs, more conversations, and even more quiet moments. Zoya's heart, which had always been locked away, was starting to soften in his presence.

Aditya was patient with her, never rushing, never pushing. He saw the strength in her and never made her feel anything less than capable. But there was something else he saw—something in the way she would smile when she thought no one was looking, something in the way she would hesitate when he was near, as if afraid to let herself feel more.

But Zoya was learning to trust him, and in return, Aditya was learning to be patient with her. It wasn't love yet, but it was something real—something worth exploring. Something that, for once, made Zoya feel like maybe, just maybe, she didn't have to face the world alone.

 It's after hours at AR Group. The office is quiet, with only a few lights still on as the day winds down. Arnav is at his desk, going through the last of his emails, while Aditya, his loyal PA, is pacing the office floor, looking restless. Aditya has something on his mind, something he can't keep to himself anymore. He knows he needs to talk to Arnav about it.

Aditya: [After a few moments of silence, he finally speaks, his tone a little hesitant but still serious] "Arnav, there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about... something personal."

Arnav: [Looks up, surprised by the seriousness in Aditya's voice. He sets aside his work, sensing the gravity of the situation.] "What's up, Aditya? You seem a bit off today."

Aditya: [Pauses, running a hand through his hair, clearly trying to figure out how to start.] "It's about... Zoya."

Arnav: [Raises an eyebrow, intrigued. He leans back in his chair, giving Aditya his full attention.] "Zoya?  The head designer? What about her?"

Aditya: [Takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, then finally says it, almost as if he's been carrying it around for too long.] "I... I think I like her, Arnav. No, it's more than that. I think I'm in love with her."

Arnav: [Blinks, surprised by the confession. He chuckles, his voice light and teasing, though there's a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.] "Wait, what? You're telling me, Aditya, you—the guy who's always so calm and collected—have feelings for Zoya? Man, I didn't see that coming."

Aditya: [Nods, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. His usual confidence is gone, replaced with a nervous energy.] "Yeah... I didn't expect it either. But here I am. It's just... I don't know how to handle it, Arnav. She's been through so much, and I don't want to mess things up between us. She's a great friend, but I've started feeling... more than that. And I'm kind of lost on what to do next."

Arnav: [Raises his eyebrows and sits up straighter, clearly intrigued by the turn of events. He leans forward, his tone becoming more interested, even a little playful.] "So, what, you've fallen for the tough-as-nails, no-nonsense Zoya? Wow, this is... interesting."

Aditya: [Blushing a little, looking slightly embarrassed.] "It's not just a crush, Arnav. It's more than that. I can't stop thinking about her. But, I don't want to make things awkward. She's been my friend for so long, and I don't want to ruin that... I don't want her to think I'm just another guy who's interested because she's, well... Zoya."

Arnav: [Grins, clearly enjoying the situation. He's genuinely interested in Aditya's predicament, but there's a playful glint in his eyes as he speaks.] "Man, you're seriously giving me relationship advice vibes right now. This is gold."

Aditya: [Rolls his eyes, trying to get serious again.] "Don't tease me, Arnav. I'm being serious. What do I do?"

Arnav: [Pauses for a moment, then leans back, his tone softer, though still lighthearted.] "Okay, listen. I get it. You're worried about ruining the friendship. I've been there. But, Aditya, you've known her for a long time, right? You're already friends. You've already got that trust between you. If you don't tell her how you feel, you're just going to keep wondering 'what if.' That's not going to help anyone."

Aditya: [Sighs, looking a little conflicted.] "But what if she doesn't feel the same way? I don't want to make things awkward between us. What if she thinks I'm just... overthinking this?"

Arnav: [Leans forward slightly, his voice steady and understanding.] "Aditya, if she's the kind of person I think she is, she's not going to judge you for being honest. She's not going to think you're overthinking it. I mean, you've always been upfront with her. It's part of the reason you guys have such a solid friendship. If she's as great a person as you say she is, she'll appreciate the honesty."

Aditya: [Pauses, considering Arnav's words. Then, he lets out a nervous laugh.] "Yeah, maybe... but what if I mess it up? I've seen how she handles things. She's so strong, so independent. And here I am, just a guy trying to figure out how to make a move without looking like an idiot."

Arnav: [Laughs, leaning back in his chair, clearly enjoying the role of being the one to give relationship advice, even though he's not exactly an expert himself.] "Look, you're overthinking this. Just be yourself, Aditya. The whole 'trying too hard' thing? Not your style. You've always been calm and collected. So just talk to her like you would any other time. If you feel something, say it. Don't complicate it."

Aditya: [Nods slowly, a small smile forming on his face as he thinks it through.] "You know, you're right. I'm not good at this whole 'confessing feelings' thing. But if I don't try, I'll never know."

Arnav: [Grins widely, leaning back in his chair, his tone teasing now.] "Exactly. Just make sure you don't overthink it. Keep it simple. Maybe she's waiting for you to make a move too. You never know."

Aditya: [Laughs, shaking his head.] "You're enjoying this way too much, aren't you?"

Arnav: [Laughs, clearly amused, his grin widening.] "What can I say? It's not every day I get to be a relationship guru for my friend. I'm just living for the drama, Aditya.And this is going to be the topic of discussion with baba tonight"

Aditya: [Chuckling, he stands up, feeling a little lighter than before.] "Alright, alright, enough with the teasing. I get it. Thanks, Arnav. I needed to hear that."

Arnav: [Smirks, still clearly enjoying himself.] "Anytime, buddy. And hey, let me know how it goes. I'm rooting for you."

Aditya: [Laughs, turning to leave, but then glances back at Arnav, his tone more sincere.] "Thanks, Arnav. I appreciate it. Really."

Arnav: [Nods, his expression softening slightly, even though there's still a teasing glint in his eyes.] "No problem. Go get your girl, man."

As Aditya leaves Arnav's office, a weight seems to have lifted off his shoulders. The anxiety that came with his unspoken feelings for Zoya has faded, replaced with a sense of clarity. With Arnav's unexpected but supportive advice, he's now ready to take that leap. The office is quieter now, but Arnav's thoughts linger on his friend's upcoming confession. It's not every day you get to see someone make a move on a girl they've admired for so long, and Arnav's genuinely curious to see where it will go.

Aditya may have started out unsure, but now he knows one thing for sure: he's going to tell Zoya how he feels.

THANK YOU!