"Shadow of the Night"

But just as she was about to delve further, she heard a soft groan from behind her.

Anaya froze, her heart leaping into her throat as she slowly turned back toward Rudra.

He was stirring, his eyes still closed but his body shifting slightly in the chair. His brows furrowed for a moment, as if he was caught in a dream, before he slowly began to wake.

Panic surged through Anaya as she stepped back from the desk, her pulse racing. She hadn't meant to get this close, hadn't meant to invade his space. But now, it was too late.

Rudra's eyes fluttered open, his gaze unfocused for a brief moment as he adjusted to the dim light of the room. He blinked, his brows drawing together in confusion as he slowly registered the fact that someone was standing in front of him.

"Anaya?" His voice was rough, groggy from sleep, and for the briefest moment, it lacked the coldness she had come to expect from him.

Anaya swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry as she forced a small smile. "I… I didn't mean to wake you."

Rudra straightened in his chair, his gaze sharpening as he blinked away the remnants of sleep. He glanced at the laptop and then back at her, his expression unreadable as he processed the situation.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice low and steady, though there was a hint of curiosity in his tone.

Anaya hesitated, unsure of how to explain herself. She had come here with questions, but now that she was face-to-face with him, the words seemed to escape her.

"I… I couldn't sleep," she admitted softly. "I had a nightmare."

Rudra's gaze softened for a brief second, but the moment passed quickly. He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face as if trying to shake off.

Anaya's heart pounded in her chest as the silence stretched between them. She could feel her mind spiraling, filled with one question—Did Rudra hear what I said? Did he know about the nightmare, the way it still haunted her? Had he caught the brief moments when she had whispered about her past?

She stood there, frozen, her thoughts racing uncontrollably. Her pulse thudded in her ears, and all she could do was watch Rudra as he sat up straighter in his chair, running a hand through his messy hair.

He didn't immediately acknowledge her words. Instead, he leaned back, sighing deeply, still rubbing his face as if the weight of exhaustion hadn't left him. His eyes flickered briefly in her direction, but his usual cold demeanor quickly slid back into place, almost like he was hiding behind an invisible wall.

"I told you earlier to rest. You should've listened," Rudra finally said, his tone low and curt, but not as sharp as it usually was.

Anaya blinked, trying to shake the confusion that clouded her mind. Did he hear her mention the nightmare? Does he even care?

She shifted on her feet, hesitant, and suddenly her throat felt dry. "I... I couldn't sleep," she repeated softly, trying to steady her voice. "That's why I came here. To see if you were... okay." But even as the words left her mouth, the deeper questions lingered—Why did you marry me? Why are you so distant?

Rudra's eyes lingered on her for a brief moment, then drifted away. It was as if he was deliberately keeping his emotional distance, guarding whatever thoughts or feelings he had. The coldness in the room returned, chilling Anaya's skin, but she wasn't ready to give up yet.

She took a small step forward, the courage she had built earlier starting to waver. "I…" she started, her voice trembling slightly, "I wasn't trying to disturb you."

Rudra's gaze flickered to her once again, his eyes sharp. "You weren't disturbing me. I was working, but I fell asleep. It happens sometimes." His voice was indifferent, dismissive. It was as though he was intentionally steering the conversation away from anything personal.

Anaya bit her lip, feeling the sting of disappointment gnawing at her insides. Why was it so hard to break through to him? Why did he always keep her at arm's length, pushing her away whenever she tried to connect? She had thought—hoped—that seeing him like this, asleep and vulnerable, might give her a glimpse into the man he really was, but it seemed that the walls were still firmly in place.

Rudra stood up from his chair, the soft glow of the desk lamp casting shadows across his tired face. His shirt, still slightly wrinkled, clung loosely to his broad frame. The top two buttons were undone, giving him a casual look that was so different from the polished CEO she usually saw during the day. His hair, thick and slightly longer than usual, fell over his forehead messily, covering his eyes as he moved.

Anaya's eyes traced the lines of his sharp jawline, noticing the faint stubble that had grown over the course of the night. He looked both rugged and refined at the same time, an aura of quiet strength clinging to him even in his fatigue. And despite his coldness, there was something undeniably magnetic about him—something that drew her in even when she tried to resist.

She opened her mouth to speak again, but the words caught in her throat. What was she supposed to say now? Should she ask him about the nightmare? Should she confront him with the question that had been haunting her since the night they got married?

Rudra's voice cut through her thoughts before she could gather her courage. "It's late, Anaya. You should go back to bed."

The finality in his tone hit her like a blow. Her stomach twisted painfully as she felt the distance between them grow even wider. Her questions, her need for answers, all seemed to evaporate in the cold air between them.

But still, she couldn't just walk away. Not without at least trying one more time.

"Rudra," she said, her voice soft but steady, "I need to know something."

His eyes darkened slightly, but he remained silent, waiting for her to continue.

Anaya took a deep breath, her heart hammering in her chest. "Why did you marry me?"

The question hung in the air, heavy with tension. Rudra's expression didn't change, but something flickered in his eyes—something Anaya couldn't quite place. He stared at her for a long moment, as if weighing his options, deciding whether or not to give her an answer.

The silence stretched on, and Anaya felt her nerves fraying. She had exposed herself, laid her vulnerability bare in front of him, but now it seemed like he was shutting her out once again.

"I..." Rudra finally began, his voice low and measured, "I did what I had to do."

His words were vague, evasive. They didn't answer the question—not really. Anaya's chest tightened with frustration. She wanted more than that. She needed more than that. But Rudra was giving her nothing.

She let out a small, shaky sigh, her heart sinking. "I see."

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The only sound in the room was the faint hum of the computer still running behind Rudra, its light casting long shadows on the walls.

Finally, Rudra stepped closer, his gaze locked on hers. His expression softened slightly, just for a fraction of a second, and in that moment, Anaya thought she saw something—something hidden beneath the layers of coldness and distance.

"You should rest," he repeated, his voice softer this time, though still guarded.

Anaya swallowed hard, her throat tightening as she nodded slowly. She couldn't push any further tonight. Not when the walls between them were still so high.

Without another word, she turned toward the door, her hand trembling slightly as she reached for the handle. But just before she left, she hesitated, glancing back at Rudra one last time. He stood there, watching her, his expression unreadable.

For a brief moment, Anaya thought about saying something more—about asking him the questions that still lingered in her mind. But the words wouldn't come. Instead, she opened the door and stepped out into the dimly lit hallway, leaving the silence of Rudra's office behind her.

As she made her way back to their bedroom, her mind raced with thoughts and unanswered questions. The nightmare still clung to her, the haunting memory of that night resurfacing after so many years. And now, on top of that, there was the ever-growing distance between her and Rudra—a chasm she wasn't sure she could cross.

She slipped back into bed, the sheets cold against her skin. The house was quiet, but the noise in her head was deafening. She closed her eyes, hoping for sleep to take her, but the questions wouldn't stop.

Why did you marry me, Rudra? The thought echoed in her mind, relentless and unyielding. But tonight, just like every other night, there would be no answers.

Tomorrow would come, and with it, the same silence.

____________

Anaya's fingers barely grazed the doorknob when Rudra's deep voice cut through the silence like a sharp blade.

"Stop."

The word, simple yet commanding, froze her in place. Her hand tightened on the door for a moment, her heart jumping into her throat. For a second, she thought she had imagined it, that her mind had played a cruel trick on her. But then he spoke again, his voice firm and unyielding.

"Come back."

The tone in his voice wasn't a request—it was an order. The kind of order that left no room for hesitation. Anaya's body moved before her mind had time to catch up, instinctively turning back toward him. She hadn't expected him to stop her. In fact, she had expected him to let her leave without another word, as he always did. But this... this was different.

Rudra was still standing behind his desk, his sharp, dark eyes fixed on her, his expression as unreadable as ever. But something in his gaze had changed—something almost piercing, as if he was about to test her.

He pulled another chair from the corner of the room and placed it in front of his desk, gesturing toward it. "Sit down," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Anaya swallowed hard, her legs feeling shaky as she moved toward the chair. Her mind raced with questions—Why did he stop me? What does he want now?—but she pushed them aside, too nervous to dwell on them. The air between them was thick with tension, and her pulse thudded in her ears as she slowly lowered herself into the chair.

Once she was seated, Rudra stepped closer, pulling his own chair nearer to the desk, almost closing the space between them. His presence was overwhelming, his cold, distant demeanor only adding to her anxiety. He gestured toward the screen of his laptop, which was still glowing softly with lines of code and data.

"Look at the screen," he commanded, his voice cool and measured. "Tell me what you see."

Anaya's heart was pounding now, beating like a bullet train in her chest. She glanced at the laptop screen, her eyes scanning the complex data and codes displayed on it. Her fingers fidgeted nervously in her lap, and her breath caught in her throat as she tried to focus on the screen.

She knew what it was, understood it even—her background in tech was enough to decipher the codes and system analysis in front of her—but the pressure of Rudra's presence made her feel like she was under a microscope. His cold, expectant gaze only made her more nervous, and she could feel the weight of the silence pressing down on her.

"I... I..." Her voice came out barely above a whisper, trembling as she tried to speak. She felt like she was failing an impossible test. She swallowed, trying to gather her composure, but her voice wavered again. "It's... it's system analysis. Performance monitoring."

Her words were shaky, her heart racing so fast that she wasn't sure if she had spoken clearly enough. The tension between them only made it harder to think straight. Does he already know this? she thought. Is this another test?

Rudra's expression didn't change. He remained stoic, his cold eyes focused on her, as if waiting for something more. He leaned forward slightly, closing the distance between them even further, and Anaya's breath caught in her throat again.

"Go on," he said, his voice low and commanding. "Tell me more."

Anaya's chest tightened with nerves. She didn't know what he wanted her to say. Did he expect her to explain the technical details in depth? Or was there something else he was looking for? Her mind was a blur, but she tried to push through the anxiety, tried to find her voice.

"It's... it's tracking performance across systems," she continued, her voice still trembling slightly. "The code is optimized for detecting inefficiencies in the software... and the data points here," she gestured toward a set of graphs on the screen, "are showing performance lags across different nodes."

Rudra's eyes didn't leave her face, his expression still unreadable. The silence between them was heavy, and Anaya felt like she was being scrutinized, like every word she said was being judged. Her hands clenched in her lap as she struggled to keep her voice steady.

"And?" Rudra prompted, his tone as cold as ever. "What do you think the problem is?"

Anaya's heart skipped a beat. Problem? Was he expecting her to diagnose something? Her nerves frayed even further, but she tried to focus, forcing herself to look at the screen again. She scanned the data quickly, her mind racing as she tried to figure out what he wanted.

After a few moments of silence, she finally spoke again, her voice still soft but more certain now. "The system... it's handling too many processes at once. There's a bottleneck in the data flow, especially around the second node. It's slowing everything down."

Rudra leaned back slightly in his chair, his eyes still fixed on her. For a moment, he didn't say anything, and Anaya's heart pounded even harder in her chest. She had no idea if she had said the right thing, if she had passed whatever unspoken test this was.

Then, finally, Rudra nodded, just barely. It was a subtle gesture, but it was enough to make Anaya's chest loosen, the tension inside her easing just slightly.

"Good," he said, his voice still cold but lacking the sharpness it had before. "You're right. The bottleneck is the issue."

Anaya let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding, relief washing over her. She had expected him to berate her, to tell her she was wrong, but instead, he had acknowledged her answer. It wasn't much, but it felt like a small victory in the midst of their strained relationship.

But the moment of relief was short-lived. Rudra's sharp gaze didn't leave her, and the intensity of his presence made her heart race once again.

"Why did you come here, Anaya?" he asked suddenly, his voice low and cutting through the tension like a knife.

Anaya's breath hitched. She hadn't expected the question, and for a moment, she wasn't sure how to answer. The truth was, she didn't know why she had come. Part of her wanted to see if he was okay, part of her wanted to confront him with her burning questions, but another part of her had just wanted to be near him, to understand him.

"I... I couldn't sleep," she said softly, her voice barely audible. "I had a nightmare."

Rudra's expression didn't change, but she thought she saw something flicker in his eyes, something she couldn't quite place.

"A nightmare," he repeated, his tone still cold but with a hint of curiosity. "About what?"

Anaya's chest tightened, and for a moment, she considered lying. But something inside her stopped her. She had been holding onto this for so long—her past, her pain. Maybe it was time to share it, even if just a little.

"I..." she began, her voice faltering. "It was about... my parents."

Rudra's eyes darkened slightly, but he remained silent, waiting for her to continue.

Anaya swallowed hard, her throat dry as she tried to find the words. "I... I lost them when I was young. In a car accident." Her voice trembled, the weight of the memory pressing down on her. "I still see it sometimes. In my dreams."

The silence between them stretched on, but this time it wasn't filled with the cold distance she had come to expect from him. Instead, it was heavy with something else—something deeper.

Rudra didn't say anything for a long moment, his eyes locked on hers, as if he was trying to read the pain she had just revealed. His expression remained stoic, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes, something that almost resembled understanding.

"That's why you couldn't sleep," he said quietly, more to himself than to her.

Anaya nodded slowly, her heart still racing. She hadn't meant to share that with him—not like this. But now that it was out in the open, she felt a strange sense of relief, as if a small part of the burden she had been carrying for so long had been lifted.

Rudra stood up from his chair then, and for a moment, Anaya thought he was going to leave the room, to shut her out again. But instead, he turned toward her, his sharp gaze softening just slightly.

"You should get some rest," he said, his voice still firm but lacking the coldness it usually held. "It's late."

Anaya hesitated, her eyes searching his face for something more, something beyond the surface of his words. But once again, the distance between them seemed insurmountable.

She nodded slowly, rising from the chair. Her legs felt shaky, and her heart still beat erratically in her chest, but she managed to steady herself as she moved toward the door.

As her hand touched the doorknob, she glanced back at him one last time. Rudra stood there, his tall figure silhouetted by the soft glow of the desk lamp. His hair was still slightly tousled, his shirt still unbuttoned at the collar, and for a brief moment, Anaya thought she saw something—something fragile, something human—behind his cold exterior.

But before she could say anything else, Rudra turned his attention back to the laptop screen,and the moment between them slipped away as quickly as it had come. Anaya hesitated, her hand gripping the doorknob a little tighter as she watched him, his eyes now focused on the screen, his fingers already moving to resume the work he had left unfinished.