Page 98 of Okay Boss
She loved him.
Had loved him since she was sixteen. Had fallen harder working for him. Was in love with him now, while simultaneously convinced he was just being kind.
While thinking she'd never be good enough for him.
The revelation hit with physical force.
He turned to look at her, curled on the bed where he'd placed her. And suddenly, with devastating clarity, he understood.
Divya had spent her entire life believing she didn't deserve to be seen. That she wasn't beautiful or special or worthy of attention. That the best she could hope for was to be useful, competent, invisible.
She’d married him thinking it was temporary because she couldn’t fathom any other possibility. Couldn’t imagine that someone like him might actually want her. She was terrified of hoping. Terrified of believing this could be real because when it inevitably ended, it would destroy her.
So she’d built walls. Convinced herself it was temporary. Protected herself with that certainty because uncertainty was too dangerous.
And he’d been so focused on showing the world she wasn't ordinary that he'd never stopped to showher.
The anger from earlier evaporated, replaced by something else entirely.
He looked back at the notebook. She'd misunderstood everything. Filed his feelings as kindness. His possessiveness as duty. Because she fundamentally didn't believe she deserved to be loved.
His chest hurt. Actually physically hurt with the realization of how badly he'd failed her.
He crouched beside the bed, watching her sleep.
This was Divya. His Divya. Brilliant and careful and so convinced of her own invisibility that she couldn’t see how thoroughly she’d owned him.
He loved her.
Had probably loved her since week four of her internship, when she’d reorganized his entire schedule and solved three problems he’d believed impossible. Had definitely loved her by the time she'd stood in that mandap, looking at him with those wide, uncertain eyes while he'd filled her maang with sindoor.
He'd fought it. Denied it. Called it attraction or admiration or anything else that felt less terrifying than love.
But standing here now, looking at her vulnerability laid bare, he couldn't deny it anymore.
Vikram Khanna loved his wife.
And she had no idea.
Worse, she was convinced it was impossible. Had already planned for the ending. Was preparing to leave in two years because she genuinely believed that's what he wanted.
The fear hit then, sharp and cutting.
What if he couldn't convince her? What if two years came and she left anyway, unable to believe that someone like him could love someone like her?
He stood abruptly, pacing to the window. Dawn was breaking over Mumbai, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold.
He still held the blue notebook.
I'm in love with him. God, I'm going to get my heart broken so badly.
The words had rearranged his entire world.
He was Vikram Khanna. National Award nominee. He'd played romantic leads in a dozen films. Had delivered declarations of love that made audiences weep.
And yet, faced with the reality of his own wife, the woman he actually loved, he was completely, utterly lost.
How did you woo someone who thought they were unworthy of being wooed? How did you romance someone who'd already decided the relationship had an expiration date?
