There’s something about the constant hum of air-conditioners, the faint aroma of coffee mixed with printer ink, and the static crackle of too many computers at once that makes Sakshi feel almost at home. Almost. If it wasn’t for the way her stomach somersaulted every time Raj from finance walked by, she might actually convince herself that her life was in a good place.

She perched on the edge of her office chair, shoulders forward, eyes narrowing at the spreadsheet glowing on her monitor, not really seeing the numbers blurring past her. Her mind, rebellious, wandered—as it so often did—to Raj. It wasn’t as if she’d spoken to him much; aside from the compulsory “good morning”s and an awkward “that’s my stapler” incident last month, he remained a mystery, a puzzle she was happy to untangle in her imagination.

Raj was the kind of man who made it look easy. He breezed through the glass-paneled corridor every morning with a lazy smile, two-day stubble, and an unhurried gait, as if corporate fire drills and project deadlines didn’t pertain to him. Sometimes he brought his own mug, a chipped blue one with a cartoon panda, and Sakshi wondered if it was a childhood relic or a past girlfriend’s gift. He had the effortless air of someone who didn’t realize the way every head--especially the female ones--turned when he passed.

“Sakshi, you in there?” Dev’s voice cut through her daydream.

She looked up, startled, to see Dev standing beside her cubicle, his palm resting lightly on her partition. He was frowning, but not seriously—he rarely was. Dev was her project teammate, the sort who turned up with spreadsheets color-coded before anyone else even drafted their lists, coffee in hand, sleeves rolled up, and a joke at the ready. Everything about him felt easy and uncomplicated, like an old sitcom you could slip back into after a hard day.

“Sorry, I was just…” She trailed off. Making up a plausible excuse would only invite teasing. “…Lost in the numbers.”

“You should try looking at the formulas column then,” he grinned, sliding into the empty chair next to her. “Yours have more errors than my life choices post-2am on a Friday.”

She rolled her eyes, a smile sneaking onto her lips. Even without trying, Dev made her feel at ease. “Says the man who still mixes up the kitchen bins.”

Dev paused, pretending to be wounded, “Ouch. My eco-warrior pride just took a major hit.”

Their banter was routine, something Sakshi had come to rely on. But today, with Raj’s presence looming somewhere just out of sight, she was unusually distracted. She forced herself to focus as Dev pointed out corrections, their shoulders almost touching. Dev smelt faintly of aftershave and something comforting, like linen and cardamom.

The office that afternoon was running at its usual caffeinated pace. Keyboards clacking, phones ringing, people passing by her cubicle in steady streams. She found herself peeking past Dev at every tall figure crossing their path.

“Looking for someone?” Dev asked, voice low, knowing.

Heat flushed to Sakshi’s cheeks. She ducked her chin quickly, stacking papers to hide the crimson blooming on her face. “No,” she said too quickly.

Dev didn’t push. He spun an overused pen between his fingers, looking at her with an expression she couldn’t quite place. They went over the week’s deliverables, cross-checked client requests, shared the last of a cold sandwich he’d picked up from the canteen. And still, a part of her wished it was Raj beside her, laughing at her jokes, noticing the little things that Dev always seemed to see.

By four, the fluorescent glare overhead began to sync with the post-lunch lull. Voices grew softer, replaced by the lullaby click of mouse buttons. Sakshi’s phone buzzed—a message from Priya in HR. ‘Gala this Friday! Don’t forget to RSVP!’

Sakshi’s heart beat just a little faster. The annual corporate gala was the stuff of office legend. Fancy invitations, dress codes, awkward speeches, and rumor had it, epic afterparties that made Mondays more tolerable. She replayed the moment in her mind: Raj, dressed sharp, asking her to waltz. Her, turning heads for once, for the right reasons.

Dev glanced at her phone before she could hide it. “So you’re going?” he asked.

Was she? Every year, she told herself she’d skip; every year loneliness—or hope—changed her mind at the last second. “Maybe,” she said. “I haven’t decided.”

“Everyone’s talking about it. It’s basically Compulsory Fun,” Dev continued. “I hear Raj is bringing a date.”

Sakshi blinked. “Oh?”

He watched her, hiding his smile. “Don’t worry, you’ll have admirers lined up.”

What she wanted to ask was, “Who’s Raj bringing?” But she only nodded, distracted, telling herself it didn’t matter. Of course it mattered.

“I’ll probably just go with the rest of the tech team,” Dev said. “Safety in numbers. If you want to join us—no pressure.”

She found herself smiling, grateful for the invitation, and for Dev’s steady presence. He might not stir her heart into wild paroxysms, but when he was around she never felt invisible.

“Yeah,” she said quietly, “that sounds good.”

Just then, as if conjured by her thoughts, Raj passed by, deep in conversation with another colleague. For a fleeting moment, his eyes met hers. He smiled—just for her, it felt like. She held her breath. He was gone before she could muster a returned smile, leaving her with her heart thudding like a frantic snare drum.

Dev watched the exchange in silence, his fingers tense around his pen. “You know,” he said after a moment, “maybe you should go for it.”

“Go for what?” she asked.

“You know what.” His voice was gentle, sympathetic. “Raj. There’s no harm in trying, right?”

She blushed again, this time wishing the ground would open up and swallow her. It wasn’t a secret that she had a crush on Raj; it probably wasn’t a secret to half the office. But hearing it out loud, especially from Dev, made it real in a way that left her strangely raw.

“You know what would be fun?” Dev said suddenly. “We should make a game out of it.”

She eyed him warily. “A game?”

“We get you and Raj talking at the gala. Break the ice. The rest will happen,” he said with the certainty of someone orchestrating a heist, not a romance. “I’ll even be your wingman.”

Sakshi found herself giggling, the tension easing. “You’re too confident.”

“You should try it sometime,” he teased. “Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?”

She didn’t say it out loud, but she knew the answer: heartbreak, embarrassment, or worse, nothing at all.

As the day wore on, she kept replaying that look Raj had given her. Was there something there? Was she imagining things, adding significance to a fleeting moment? Her mind spun, but she forced herself to focus on work.

That evening, as the office began to thin and people filtered out with their bags and tired goodbyes, Dev lingered by her desk while she finished up one last email.

“Want to grab a coffee before heading out?” he asked, sudden nerves flickering in his voice.

She smiled. Coffee had become their end-of-day ritual, something unspoken but expected. “Sure.”

They took the back stairs to the street-level café, the late autumn sky painting the glass doors in deep indigo and gold. Inside, the café was half-full—colleagues hunched over laptops, couples lingering by the window, tired baristas cleaning the day’s residue from the machines.

Dev ordered for both of them, as usual: one black, one with cream and two sugars. “You know, for someone who works in numbers, you’re terrible at making coffee decisions,” he joked as he handed her the steaming cup.

She nudged him. “Says the guy who puts salt in his coffee just to prove he’s interesting.”

“Only once. I was sleep-deprived.”

They migrated to a quiet table in the back, overlooking the street. Sakshi curled her feet under her chair, warming her hands on her cup. Out here, away from buzzing phones and flickering screens, the world felt different—simpler, the lines between friends and something more blurred by the golden hour light.

“Have you ever asked anyone out from work?” she asked, suddenly.

Dev’s eyebrows jumped. “Direct. I like it. And no, never. Too risky.”

She laughed softly, “You? Taking risks? I don’t believe it.”

“What about you?” he retorted.

“Never been brave enough,” she admitted. “Or maybe never been sure enough.”

He was quiet for a moment, fingers tapping his cup. “Maybe you just need the right reason.”

They sat like that, in companionable silence, watching the city grow soft and shadowed outside. Sakshi wondered if he could sense her confusion, the mix of longing and guilt muddling her heart. She wanted so badly to be the girl Raj noticed, the girl who would be swept off her feet. But she couldn’t ignore the way Dev’s presence grounded her, made her laugh, made even the dullest task tolerable.

As they walked out together, the chill of evening pricking their arms, Dev nudged her shoulder, playful.

“So, have you got a date for the gala?” he asked, feigning nonchalance.

She shook her head. “I wish.”

He grinned. “Maybe this year’s your year. If not, at least you can always count on me to rescue you from awkward conversations with the Vice President.”

They shared a laugh, the tension fading. At the crosswalk, waiting for the signal to change, Sakshi turned to Dev. “Thank you. For, you know… making things easier.”

He looked at her, something unreadable passing over his face. “Anytime, Sakshi. That’s what friends are for.”

But she couldn’t help but wonder: was it really just friendship? Or was there more beneath the surface, emotions unspoken and carefully hidden?

That night, at home, washing her coffee cup in the kitchen sink, she thought about both men—about Raj’s easy smile and Dev’s steadfast presence. For the first time, she wondered if she’d been chasing the wrong kind of thrill, the wrong kind of affection.

Outside, the city ran on, oblivious. Inside, Sakshi lay awake long after midnight, the seeds of something new—hope, desire, confusion—taking root inside her.

And somewhere, in the quiet depths of his own room, Dev was lying awake too, rehearsing conversations that might one day turn the pretend into something all too real.

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