Prompt : A cutthroat business woman swore she’d never find love until her best friend sets her up on a blind date.

8:24 p.m.

I glanced at my purple, diamond-studded Swarovski and shook my head. “Trust Komal to set me up with someone who doesn’t believe in punctuality.”

I signaled the waiter to refill my wine — third glass tonight. It had been a long week. The Wiscons merger, the one I’d spent months orchestrating, had finally concluded.

It wasn’t pretty. Countless employees laid off, multiple relocations, dozens fired on short notice. But the merger would bring the firm an estimated $2.8 billion in additional revenue. And that — that was enough for me. This world isn't kind, and I don’t expect it to be. I did what I had to do.

People get tangled up in emotions at work. It only makes them inefficient. This is business. Why take things personally? Being "nice" shouldn't be a workplace norm. You want nice? Go work at the Taj Hotels.

I glanced at my phone. No calls, no messages. Just Whiskers — my cat — staring back from the wallpaper. He must be restless by now.

What am I even doing here?

Waiting for a man who’s supposedly “the one”?

“The one.”

As if my father was “the one” for Mom. That low-life couldn’t be “the one” for a bar brawl, let alone a woman like her. She worked herself to the bone to raise me, while taking care of a drunk who paid her back with slaps and curses. Every other night, someone had to drag his unconscious body back home.

The humiliation. The financial strain. The fear. It was in those teenage years I decided — never again. I would never depend on a man, never let one dictate terms to me.

And yet… here I was.

Waiting.

Thirty-two minutes late.

“Well, this was some night,” I muttered, signaling for the check.

And then I saw him.

Walking in from behind the waiter, broad shoulders, teal blazer against his fair skin. He caught my gesture and mistook it for a wave. He smiled brightly and waved back, his orange FastTrack watch strap catching my eye.

So, he does own a watch, I mused.

He looked taller than in the two photos Komal had sent. I stood, extending my hand, but he ignored it — leaning in for a light hug instead. It caught me off guard. He smelled like a beach — cool wind, salt air, and sun-warmed sand.

“I’m so sorry, Neha! Something came up at home and I left as soon as I could. Total chaos. I would’ve called, but Komal didn’t give me your number — and she’s unreachable.”

Of course. Komal’s yoga session. Lucky escape for her, or she’d have heard me screaming through the phone.

“That’s alright,” I said coolly. “I’m just not used to waiting on someone.”

We sat. A moment of silence. He seemed calm — but his fingers were restless. He raised his hand to call the waiter, and that’s when I noticed a faint bluish mark on his neck. Not recent — something from childhood. His stubble outlined a strong jawline, and despite his terrible punctuality, he was… making up for it in charm.

“So!” he began, eyes gleaming. “Komal tells me you’re a top executive at the Big Four. That must be exciting — people working under you, looking up to you.”

His curiosity was almost childlike. Genuine.

“It’s… a busy job. Most days I barely get time for myself. On off days, I spend time with my cat.”

“A cat person, huh? I’m more of a dog guy. Here — look.”

He eagerly pulled out his phone and showed me a picture of a golden retriever.

“That’s Honey. Named after his coat — honey-colored.”

“Nice.”

A flicker of disappointment crossed his face. Probably expected me to show him Whiskers. But he smiled through it. We moved on, talking about fitness, passions. Rajesh is a travel junkie. A trekker. A guide. He’s scaled all the trails I’ve only heard about. To him, the mountains are sacred.

“The best views come from the hardest climbs,” he said.

My travels? Office-to-hotel business trips.

He? Stays in hostels with strangers.

We were chalk and cheese.

Rajesh was sweet, a gentleman. But our worlds? Couldn’t be more different. He wants to escape society. I want to conquer it. He’s all energy, open-hearted curiosity. I felt the contrast in every sentence I spoke. I wasn’t bored — I just didn’t belong in these conversations. I didn’t get to where I am by being… interested in everything.

He didn’t need to tell me his salary. The worn-out blazer. The basic watch. The shoes that had seen better days — they said enough. He had simple goals. Mine get more complex the higher I climb.

And I couldn’t finish a trek to save my life.

Still, his enthusiasm was contagious.

As our bottle of wine neared its end, he looked up at me and smiled — eager for me to continue. I cleared my throat, mid-bite of penne.

“So, Rajesh. Any siblings?”

“I have a younger sister — Priya. She turns eighteen soon.”

He pulled out his phone again and showed me a picture — him, a petite girl, and a woman I assumed was their mother.

“She’s lovely. A happy family.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “They’re everything to me.”

“What about your father? Didn’t see him in the photo.”

“Oh, he passed when I was Priya’s age.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Oh, no. I’m glad he did. Wish it had happened sooner.” He laughed — a strange, hollow sound.

“Ohh…” was all I could manage, surprised.

“Yeah. He was a terrible person, to say the least. He never met a problem he couldn’t solve with a belt.”

He looked away for a beat, then continued, quieter now.

“Dad was a crack addict. It started before he met Mom and got worse as the marriage progressed. He started consuming a lot more when I was born. Screaming, throwing things around, and hitting both me and Mom — that was common in our home.”

There was a sadness in his eyes now. He came from a broken home too. I could feel a pain rising in my own heart. Was it empathy?

“The worst part was, despite all the trauma, I always wanted to please him. I thought maybe if he saw what a bright kid he had, he would change. He would treat my mother better. He would treat me like a son. But no amount of awards I won ever replaced the drugs in his life.

He died five years ago — but he really died the night he laid his hands on a six-year-old Priya. One night he came home high and irritated, and saw Priya playing with his wallet. And without a second thought, he slapped that infant and casually picked his wallet back. That was also the first and last time I raised my hands on my father.

We moved out a couple of days later and never saw him again. It was years later when I found out about his passing.”

Silence settled between us. He stared at the salt and pepper shakers, lost. For a man so full of life, he now looked… small. Fragile.

I gently reached for his hand and gave it a light squeeze.

He let out a choked laugh.

“Too much history lesson for a first date, huh? How’s the food?”

I smiled and nodded.

Rajesh had an early morning trek, so we decided to end the night. As we stepped outside, he offered to accompany me home — it was late, and hailing an auto alone wasn’t the safest. But he hesitated mid-sentence when he spotted my car waiting by the curb, driver standing attentively.

He chuckled awkwardly. “Ah… right.”

We shared a brief look — a moment thick with unspoken things. Then, without a word, he stepped forward and pulled me in for a hug. It was warm, firm, intentional. His arms tightened around me just enough, not demanding, just being there. I was caught off guard — not by the hug, but by how safe it felt.

For a woman who had built walls for a living, I closed my eyes… and let myself stay there.

When I got home, Whiskers was curled up in the corner, busy cleaning himself like I hadn’t just been out all evening thinking about him. Typical.

But I wasn’t thinking about Whiskers anymore.

Rajesh lingered on my mind — that charming smile, the sparkle in his eyes, that quiet energy that felt so present. It wasn’t his looks that unsettled me — it was how genuine he was. He had a way of drawing me out without trying. I hadn’t realized how starved I was for that kind of intimacy — not romance, not attraction — but comfort.

Our table at the restaurant felt like it existed outside of time. The chaos of deadlines, mergers, and power suits felt galaxies away. It was just us. His stories, my silences. His curiosity, my careful confessions.

Was I falling for him?

I reached for my phone, almost on instinct.

4:30 a.m.

I stifled a yawn as the auto rickshaw halted. I couldn’t remember the last time I woke up this early — or voluntarily stepped into something so wildly unfamiliar. But the air was different here. Crisp. Buzzing.

The place was surprisingly alive. Groups of strangers were chatting excitedly over chai and Maggi under warm halogen lights. Laughter echoed. Hiking boots scuffed gravel. Scarves flapped in the cold breeze. It was beautiful chaos.

That’s when I saw him.

Rajesh.

He stood on a raised platform, speaking to a huddle of eager trekkers. His body language radiated excitement, his voice booming with charisma. He looked like he belonged to this moment.

“Welcome to TreksUnlimited! I’m Rajesh, your guide for the Kolukkumalai Hills trek! It’s wonderful to see such an enthusiastic bunch! Are you ready to feel the calling of the mountains!?”

Cheers erupted. People clapped, some whooped.

“How’s the josh!?”

“HIGH SIR!”

“How’s the josh!?”

“HIGH SIR!”

“HOW’S THE JOSH!?”

“HIGHHHH SIRRRRR!”

“Jai Hind!”

The crowd erupted into hooting and cheering. I could feel the energy reverberate through my own self!

Rajesh looked around, smiling — and then he saw me.

For a guy so full of energy, I was a bit pleased to catch him off guard and make him freeze. He got down and navigated the crowd to reach me. As soon as we were face to face, he pulled me into a hug. We stood like that for a moment, wrapped in each other, oblivious to the crowd watching us.

“I thought someone didn’t like trekking!?” he said, grinning into my hair.

“Well, you boasted a lot about the view of the mountains — and I had to see for myself. So here I am.”

He smiled, taking my hand and leading me through the crowd. Then he climbed back on the platform and turned to address the group again — but this time, his gaze held mine.

“Guys! This trip is about finding out where the sky meets the mountain!” he said, addressing everyone in a heavy voice while looking at me.

“Trekking shows us who we are, and helps us realise that we’re stronger than we might think ourselves to be. So let’s have some fun and let’s make some memories.

Let’s scale some mountains…

Because the best views in life come from the hardest of climbs.”