Rahul's long, tapered fingers dug into the polished mahogany desk, leaving faint crescents of tension as he watched Piya's reaction unfold. The headphones—a monstrous, cartoonish creation that looked like a hybrid between a satellite dish and a cartoon character—hung comically large against her petite frame. Yet, it was the raw, unfiltered joy that radiated from her as she threw her arms around Zoltan, her body language uninhibited and electric, that sent a sharp, unexpected pang through Rahul's chest. The twist in his stomach was unfamiliar, a complex knot of emotions he couldn't—or wouldn't—untangle: something between jealousy, protectiveness, and a feeling that defied simple categorization.

Squashing the unwelcome emotions, Rahul turned his attention back to the computer screen, determined to maintain a professional distance. Sana remained oblivious to the complicated history between him and Piya, and JR was delighted to see the once-withdrawn girl finally settling into her new life. Piya and Tara were doing exceptional work - he couldn't and shouldn't ask for more.

A knock on the door frame interrupted his thoughts. "Rahul, got a minute?" Zoltan's cheerful voice called out.

Rahul gestured for him to enter, schooling his features into a neutral expression. "What is it?"

"I've been thinking about the Vienna project," Zoltan said, perching on the edge of Rahul's desk. "I believe Piya could provide valuable input, especially on the security protocols. Would you be open to including her?"

Rahul considered the request, his fingers drumming a rhythm against the sleek, dark wood of his desk. His initial instinct was to bristle and refuse, a knee-jerk reaction born of years of complicated history. But he caught himself, forcing his tense shoulders to relax as he recalled his recent resolution to maintain a crisp, professional boundary with Piya. The words emerged measured and controlled: "Yes, that makes sense. She's more than capable of contributing to the project." His tone was neutral, but a flicker of grudging respect underscored his measured response.

Zoltan's face lit up with a grin. "Excellent! I'll let her know. She's going to be thrilled." He paused, his brow furrowing slightly. "By the way, there's a slight change of plans. I won't be able to join you for the Vienna trip."

Rahul felt a twinge of unease at the news. "Oh? What happened?"

"My grandmother in Lake Balaton fell and broke her hip. I need to go and help her out for a few days." Zoltan's expression was apologetic. "I'm really sorry about that, but" Zoltan paused, " How about you take Piya? I will make sure she is briefed and upto date on the project. It will be good for her too I think, she needs a little exposure."

Rahul nodded, his jaw clenched and a muscle twitching imperceptibly near his temple, carefully maintaining a veneer of professional composure. The prospect of spending four intimate, uninterrupted days alone with Piya—a woman who simultaneously represented an enigma and a buried memory—sent an unexpected tremor of anticipation through his carefully controlled interior landscape. The thought was a live wire, crackling with unresolved tension and potential, unsettling him far more profoundly than he dared acknowledge, even to himself. "Are you sure you can manage everything without me?" Zoltan asked, his concern genuine. The friendly Hungarian leaned back slightly, his casual demeanour disarming.

"Of course," Rahul lied.

As Zoltan left, Rahul leaned back in his chair, staring blankly at the screen. The images of Piya's joyful embrace with Zoltan replayed in his mind, and he found himself unable to shake the strange sense of possessiveness that had welled up within him.

He tried to rationalize his reaction, reminding himself that Piya was an employee, a colleague – nothing more. Yet, the memory of the carefree, laughing girl he had known years ago refused to be silenced, stirring up emotions he had long since buried.

Rahul sighed and turned his attention back to the project, determined to focus on the task at hand. As the afternoon wore on, he immersed himself in the work, his mind gradually clearing of the distractions. The team meeting went smoothly, and by the time he was wrapping up for the day, Rahul felt a sense of calm settle over him.

On his way out, he paused, glancing at the familiar café across the street. It was the cafe where Kavita waited for him. She always claimed that the coffee in his office was horrible. Rahul knew that Kavita wanted to spend as much time as she could in the sun. It was as if she knew that it was her last summer.

Rahul found himself drawn to the café, the familiar aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the warm, inviting atmosphere beckoning him inside. As he settled into a cosy corner, memories of Kavita's last months came back to him. The doctors said that her body was rejecting the kidney Meena had donated. He knew that was impossible, Kavita's body could never reject the precious gift Meena had given, Kavita and Meena were best friends since they were six. They were closer than sisters. It was a broken heart that Kavita was slowly dying of. The heart that Piya broke by walking away.

The coffee suddenly turned bitter. Rahul pushed the cup away, his stomach churning as past memories clashed with the present. He couldn't escape the reality of how intertwined their lives were, how the threads of joy and pain had woven together over the years, creating a tapestry that was at once beautiful and devastating.