The morning sunlight spilled gently across the wide bedroom as the soft cotton curtains were suddenly pulled aside. A warm beam fell directly over Lucas' face, forcing his eyes to flutter open. He frowned slightly and sat up, running a hand through his messy hair.
"Mother… what happened?" he murmured, still half asleep.
His mother stood near the window with a teasing smile. "What happened? You tell me, Lucas. It is already late! You sleep as if you have no office to run. Do you remember you are the boss of hundreds of employees?"
Lucas blinked, looking around in surprise. "Late? Really?"
His mother crossed her arms, her expression half-annoyed and half-amused. "Yes. And don't think I didn't notice. You were awake till late last night."
Lucas froze. For a moment, flashes of yesterday returned in fragments—June standing on the college stage, her eyes meeting his, her voice trembling with confidence as she delivered her speech. A strange warmth touched his chest.
He quickly hid the expression.
"Oh… I just couldn't sleep well," he replied, brushing it off. "Maybe I was not feeling great."
His mother softened. "Hmm. You rarely stay up late. Something must have kept your mind busy."
Lucas didn't respond. Instead, he swung his legs off the bed and stood up.
"I'll get ready. Breakfast in ten minutes?"
"Make it five," she said, chuckling as she left the room.
Lucas smiled faintly, shook his head, and headed to the shower.
By the time he reached the breakfast table, the table was neatly set—fresh toast, sliced fruits, steaming omelettes, and warm tea. His father sat reading the newspaper while his mother arranged plates.
"Good morning," Lucas greeted.
"Good?" his father said, raising an eyebrow. "It's nearly afternoon."
Lucas sighed. "I know, I know."
They all shared a small laugh. Breakfast passed with light conversation, but Lucas' mind drifted again and again toward the memory of a girl in a red saree, her eyes full of something he couldn't name.
A strange familiarity.
A strange ache.
He finished quickly, grabbed his keys, and left for office.
The corporate building was lively as always—staff rushing, files being passed, phones ringing. But something felt different today.
Lucas walked into his glass cabin. Meetings began. Presentations started. But his focus… did not.
Charts blurred before his eyes. Voices faded. Every time he tried to concentrate, June's voice echoed inside his mind—her speech, her sincerity, her calm confidence.
His staff exchanged confused glances.
"This has never happened," whispered one employee.
"He looks distracted," another murmured.
Lucas ran a hand over his face, frustrated. Why can't I focus today?
But the answer did not come.
Meanwhile, in her college, June stepped out of the classroom as the bell rang for lunch. The corridor buzzed with students rushing toward the canteen, but June didn't move.
Her friends walked up to her.
"June! You're not coming?"
She shook her head lightly. "No… I'm not hungry."
"What happened? Yesterday was so fun! The event went so well. And sir—Mr. Lucas—was impressed."
June forced a smile, but her eyes held a faraway look.
"I don't know… my mind feels somewhere else."
Her friends exchanged looks but didn't push her.
Suddenly, thunder rumbled, and rain burst from the sky in a heavy curtain. Students screamed and ran; the ground turned glossy under the storm. June stood near the veranda, watching the endless sheets of rain.
She called her mother. "Maa? I'll be late. The rain is too heavy."
Her mother agreed, and June stayed back, sitting near the window with her books. The silence of the empty campus mixed with the rhythm of rainfall. Time slipped, and soon it was 7 PM.
The rain softened.
June picked up her bag, stepped out of the gate, and waited by the road for an auto. She stretched her hand multiple times, but the autos sped past—full, crowded, or simply uninterested.
Just then, a long black car slowed nearby.
Inside, Lucas was returning from office.
Without a second thought, he stopped the car.
The window slid down.
"June? Do you need a ride?" Lucas asked.
June froze. Embarrassment spread over her face. She quickly shook her head.
"No, sir… it's fine. I will take an auto."
Lucas stepped out of his car, holding an umbrella. "There are no autos stopping. You will get drenched. Come, I'll drop you. It's not safe to wait alone."
June hesitated. Her heart raced, not knowing why. She didn't want the neighbours to see a luxury car dropping her home. They might talk. Judge.
"Sir, I… I don't want to trouble you."
"It's not trouble," Lucas said gently. "Get in. Please."
June looked at his eyes. Something in his voice—calm, familiar—made her agree.
She nodded slowly.
Lucas opened the front door. "Sit here. It's safer."
June sat in the passenger seat, adjusting her saree. He fastened her seatbelt gently.
Her breath caught for a moment without reason.
The car started. Silence filled the space between them—soft, warm, and strangely comforting.
"Where is your home, June?" he asked.
"Just a little far. But sir, please stop two minutes early. I'll walk from there."
Lucas frowned slightly. "Why?"
She looked down. "People talk… We live in a middle-class area. A car like this… a man like you… it may create misunderstandings."
Lucas softened. "Alright. I understand."
They spoke lightly—about her studies, her year, her ambitions. Lucas found her honesty refreshing. June found him unexpectedly gentle.
But then came the moment.
"When will we meet next?" Lucas asked quietly.
June's eyes widened. "Meet? Why would we meet again, sir?"
Lucas smiled faintly. "You don't want to?"
She panicked. "No! I don't mean that! I just… I don't understand. You're such a big businessman. I'm only a college student. You came yesterday… we organised everything for you. That's all."
He looked at her deeply. "You will understand one day."
Her heartbeat stumbled.
The car slowed. "You can get down here," she said softly.
She stepped out. He waited.
"Goodbye, sir."
"Goodbye, June."
She walked into the narrow lane, her heart strangely full.
Lucas watched her from the window until she disappeared into the street.
And the chapter closed on two people walking away from each other—
—both unaware that fate had already tied their destinies long before this rain.