The wind was cool against their faces as they rode back from their late-night meal. Sony was humming a song from the movie, her arms loosely wrapped around Ashok's waist. Everything felt perfect, but Ashok's eyes were darting to the side mirrors.
Any second now, he thought. The intersection near the old temple.
In the original timeline, a car had swerved into their lane. Ashok had braked too late, the bike skidded, and Sony had suffered a deep gash on her arm that left a permanent scar.
"Boss? Why are you slowing down?" Sony asked, her voice muffled by the wind. "The light is green."
"Hold on tight, Sony," Ashok said, his voice dropping all playfulness. "Tighten your grip. Now."
Sensing the shift in his energy, Sony locked her arms around his chest. Just as they reached the intersection, a pair of blinding high-beams swung out from a side street—a drunk driver running a red light.
In the old life, Ashok had panicked. This time, he was ready. He didn't just brake; he leaned the bike hard to the left, steering into a controlled slide that kept the bike upright while the car roared past, missing them by inches. The bike eventually tipped over at a low speed, sliding into the soft grass at the edge of the road.
"Sony! Are you okay?" Ashok scrambled up, ignoring the sting in his own knees.
Sony was sitting on the grass, looking shocked but—to Ashok's immense relief—unscathed. No blood. No scar.
"I'm... I'm okay," she gasped, her heart hammering. "You... you knew he was coming, didn't you? You slowed down before he even appeared."
Ashok didn't answer. He was shaking. The terror of almost losing her again was crashing down on him. He pulled her into a fierce hug, burying his face in her neck. "I'm not letting anything happen to you. Not again."
The Police Station & The Gift
After a brief, stressful hour at the police station filing a report against the driver, they finally walked out into the early morning air. Sony was quiet, her "overthinker" brain processing how close they had come to a tragedy.
"My necklace broke during the fall," she whispered, looking at the snapped thread of her gold chain. "And I lost an earring in the grass."
Ashok looked at her. She looked small and shaken. He remembered how, in the old timeline, she had cried for days about her scar. This time, he wanted to replace her fear with a different memory.
"Wait here," he said.
He walked to a small, 24-hour jewelry boutique near the station—the kind that specialized in silver and gold-plated gifts. When he came out, he held a small velvet box.
He led her to a bench under a lamp. "Give me your hand."
He slid a delicate bracelet onto her wrist, then carefully fastened a new silver chain around her neck. Finally, he handed her a pair of earrings that sparkled in the lamplight.
"Boss... this is too much," Sony protested, her eyes welling with tears. "It was just a small accident."
"It's not just jewelry, PA," Ashok said, his shy side returning as he struggled to find the words. "The chain is to remind you that I'll always be your support. The bracelet is so you know I'm holding your hand, even when I'm not there. And the earrings..."
He leaned in, his "naughty" spark returning through the exhaustion. "...those are so you only listen to my voice and ignore all those other 'seniors' at the office."
Sony let out a watery laugh, touching the new chain around her neck. The trauma of the accident was already fading, replaced by the weight of his care.
"You're a very strange Boss, Ashok-sir," she whispered, using his name for the first time since the "Tablet Night" in the future.
"And you're a very stubborn PA," he replied. "Now, let's go. We have a night shift tomorrow, and I expect you to be wearing those."