"Good afternoon. Please, sit down."
They all returned to their seats, pulling out laptops and tablets and papers. I walked to the head of the table and set my files down, preparing to take my seat as well.
That was when I noticed them.
Two young women standing against the back wall instead of sitting at the table with the others. They looked young, probably fresh out of college, dressed professionally but standing slightly apart from the rest of the team.
New hires, I assumed.
My eyes moved from one to the other in a casual sweep, and then stopped.
Froze, actually.
Because one of them was Viya.
My wife was standing in my conference room.
She was wearing a pink salwar kameez, the color soft and feminine against her skin. Her hair was pulled back, and she was holding an iPad close to her chest like a shield. Her eyes were fixed on something across the room, carefully avoiding looking in my direction.
My mind scrambled to make sense of this. What was she doing here? Then it clicked into place with sudden, sharp clarity.
She worked here. She was part of the development team. That was why she had been in the building that day. That was why she had been in the elevator.
She was one of my employees.
I had married one of my own employees without even knowing it.
My eyes traveled over her again, slower this time, taking in details I had not noticed before. She looked professional and put together, every inch the competent developer. But there was something missing.
No vermillion in the parting of her hair. No mangalsutra around her neck.
The sacred symbols I had placed on her just yesterday were nowhere to be seen.
I understood why, of course. We were keeping the marriage secret. She could not walk around the office wearing sindoor and a mangalsutra without people asking questions. It made perfect logical sense.
But it still stung.
It stung more than it had any right to.
I forced myself to look away from her and turned my attention to Vikrant, the team lead.
"Vikrant, I see some new faces on your team. Would you mind introducing them?"
Vikrant stood up with a smile, clearly pleased to show off his new hires.
"Of course, sir. These are our two newest junior developers. This is Akshita Jain," he gestured to the other young woman, who gave a nervous but professional nod, "and this is Viya Mehra. They both joined us last week and have already been making excellent contributions to the ongoing projects."
Viya Mehra.
She had not taken my name. She was still using her maiden name.
Another sting, sharp and unexpected.
Our eyes met for just a fraction of a second. I saw recognition flash in her gaze, followed immediately by something thatlooked like panic. Then she looked down, her eyes fixed firmly on the floor.
I kept my expression neutral, professional.
"Welcome to the team," I said, addressing both of them but unable to stop myself from looking at Viya. "I appreciate hard work and dedication. I am sure you will both do well here."
