BETWEEN FLOORS

BETWEEN FLOORS A story about hatred, secrets, and the one person you never expected to save you. Chapter 1: The Worst Possible Company If someone had told me that the last person I would ever want to be trapped with was going to become the most important person in my life, I would have laughed. Actually, no. I would have punched them. Because that person was Aarav Malhotra. And I hated him. Not the ordinary kind of hatred where you roll your eyes when someone enters a room. Not the kind where you avoid sitting beside them at lunch. I hated him with the dedication of someone who had spent years perfecting the art. He was arrogant, irritating, ridiculously handsome, and possessed an extraordinary talent for making everyone around him feel intellectually inferior. We had met at university five years ago. He had stolen my scholarship presentation topic, publicly corrected my research, and then had the audacity to tell me I was "too emotional to survive in the corporate world." I had responded by spilling coffee over his expensive laptop. He had called me a walking disaster. I had called him a malfunctioning calculator with a face. And that was how our beautiful friendship began. Except it never became a friendship. We competed for everything. Internships, promotions, awards, recognition. If I got a promotion, he would get a bigger one. If he received an award, I would work twice as hard to beat him the following year. We were two people who couldn't stand being in the same room. Unfortunately, the universe had a terrible sense of humour. Because five years later, we worked at the same multinational company. And on a rainy Thursday evening, at precisely 8:43 p.m., I found myself standing inside an elevator with the man I hated most. "Wonderful," I muttered. Aarav glanced at me. "Good evening to you too, sunshine." "Don't call me that." "Would you prefer miserable?" "I'd prefer you to disappear." "Trust me, the feeling is mutual." I pressed the button for the twenty-third floor. He pressed the same button. I looked at him. "Following me now?" "Unfortunately, we work on the same floor." "That's unfortunate for me." "Believe me, I have considered resigning." The elevator doors closed. We were alone. For once, neither of us had an audience to impress. Then the lights flickered. The elevator jerked violently. And stopped. I grabbed the railing. Aarav caught the wall. Silence. Then a small voice inside my head whispered: Of all the people in the world, why him? Chapter 2: Twenty-Three Floors of Misery "Don't tell me we're stuck." Aarav examined the control panel. "Looks like it." I pressed the emergency button. Nothing. I pressed it again. Still nothing. "Wonderful," I whispered. "Stop pressing it. You're not going to intimidate the elevator." "At least I'm trying something." "I'm assessing the situation." "You're standing there looking expensive. That's not assessing." He sighed. I hated that sigh. It was the sigh of a man who believed the entire world was an inconvenience designed specifically to test his patience. He pulled out his phone. No signal. I checked mine. One bar disappeared. "Perfect," I said. "We're going to die in a metal box." "Very dramatic." "Some of us have survival instincts." "Some of us have common sense." I turned towards him. "Listen, Malhotra. If we're going to be stuck here, let's establish some rules." He raised an eyebrow. "Rules?" "Yes. No unnecessary talking. No touching my things. And absolutely no trying to be funny." "So, basically, I should pretend you're not here?" "Exactly." "That might be the easiest task I've ever been given." I folded my arms and moved to the opposite corner. For the next ten minutes, we said nothing. The silence was unbearable. I could hear the faint buzzing of the elevator lights, the rain hitting the building outside, and Aarav tapping his foot. Tap. Tap. Tap. "Can you stop that?" "Stop what?" "Your foot." He stopped. Five seconds later, he started again. I closed my eyes. "You're doing that deliberately." "Doing what?" I threw my hands up. "God, I hate you." He looked at me. For a moment, his expression changed. Not anger. Something else. Something I couldn't identify. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I know." And strangely, that sounded less like a joke than anything he'd ever said to me. Chapter 3: The Things We Never Said Twenty minutes passed. The emergency alarm still wasn't working. Aarav had managed to remove the panel cover and was examining the wiring. I watched him. "Since when do you know how to fix elevators?" "Since I was twelve." I laughed. "Of course. You're secretly a mechanical engineer too?" "My father owned a small repair shop. I used to help him." I blinked. That was new. I had never heard him talk about his family. "Your father?" He nodded. "He passed away when I was sixteen." My expression softened. "I'm sorry." He shrugged. "It's fine." It clearly wasn't. He returned to examining the panel. I looked down at my shoes. For years, I had imagined Aarav as someone who had everything. Money, connections, confidence, and a life that seemed almost offensively perfect. I had never considered that perhaps the confidence was just a wall. "Why did you become so unbearable?" I asked. He looked at me. "Why did you become so judgmental?" "Excuse me?" "You heard me." I crossed my arms. "You're the one who made my university life miserable." He laughed without humour. "Is that what you think?" "That's what happened." He stared at me for a moment. Then he said something I wasn't prepared for. "You really don't remember, do you?" "Remember what?" He shook his head. "Nothing." I hated that word. It was always the beginning of something unpleasant. Chapter 4: The Phone Call My phone suddenly vibrated. One bar of signal had returned. A message appeared. UNKNOWN NUMBER: Are you inside the elevator? I frowned. Before I could reply, another message arrived. UNKNOWN NUMBER: Don't trust the man standing next to you. My heart skipped. I looked at Aarav. He was still examining the panel. Another message appeared. UNKNOWN NUMBER: Ask him what happened on 14 August, five years ago. My fingers went cold. 14 August. The date my university scholarship had been withdrawn. The date my final research presentation had mysteriously disappeared from the competition records. The date Aarav had become my worst enemy. I slowly turned towards him. "What happened on 14 August?" He froze. The silence that followed was different from all the others. He didn't look confused. He looked afraid. "Who sent you that?" "Answer me." He stood up. "Where did you get that message?" "Why? What happened?" He ran a hand through his hair. "Listen to me. Whatever you think you know—" "I asked you a question, Aarav!" He looked directly into my eyes. "Your scholarship wasn't stolen by me." I laughed. It was a bitter, disbelieving laugh. "Really? That's your explanation?" "I never took your presentation." "You stood on that stage and presented my research!" "Because I was told to." I stared at him. "By whom?" He opened his mouth. Then the elevator lights went out. Completely. I screamed. Something crashed against the wall. And in the darkness, I felt a hand grab mine. "Don't move," Aarav whispered. For the first time in five years, I didn't pull away. Chapter 5: The Night Everything Changed The emergency lights came back on after a few seconds. Aarav was standing close to me. His hand was still holding mine. He released it immediately. "Sorry." I looked at him. "Explain." He took a deep breath. "Five years ago, someone submitted a complaint accusing you of academic misconduct. They claimed your research was copied from another university." My stomach tightened. "What?" "I knew it was false." "How?" "Because I'd seen your original research." I remembered the presentation. The accusations. The scholarship committee. The humiliation of standing in front of professors who looked at me as though I were a criminal. "You could have defended me." "I tried." "No, you didn't!" "I did!" His voice echoed inside the elevator. He looked exhausted. "I submitted evidence. I sent them your original drafts, the timestamps, everything. But the university rejected it." I stared at him. "Then why did you present my research?" He looked away. "Because they threatened to withdraw my father's medical support." I went still. "What?" "My father was receiving treatment through a foundation funded by the university's biggest donor. That same donor wanted your research transferred to his company." I felt sick. "And you agreed?" "I thought I could protect your work from being destroyed. I thought if I presented it, I could buy time and expose the people behind it." "But you never told me." "I wasn't allowed to." "That's convenient." He gave a hollow laugh. "You think I don't know that?" I looked at him. For the first time, I saw something I had never noticed before. Regret. Real, unbearable regret. "Who was behind it?" I whispered. Aarav looked at me. "Your mentor." My heart stopped. Professor Mehra. The man who had recommended me for the scholarship. The man who had told me I had a brilliant future. The man who had written my recommendation letter. "No," I whispered. "He sold your research." I stepped backwards. The elevator felt smaller. The walls felt closer. Five years. Five years of believing that Aarav had destroyed my life. Five years of hatred. And the truth was somehow worse. Because the person who had betrayed me wasn't the person I had spent my life hating. Chapter 6: The Question I sat down on the floor. My legs were shaking. Aarav crouched a few feet away. "I should have told you." "Yes." "I was a coward." "Yes." "I thought I could fix everything before you found out." I looked at him. "Why didn't you just tell me?" He didn't answer immediately. Then he said: "Because your father came to see me." I stopped breathing. "My father?" He nodded. "He knew about the investigation. He asked me not to tell you until he could gather enough evidence to prove what happened." My father had died two years after my scholarship was withdrawn. A heart attack. He had spent the final months of his life telling me that everything would eventually work out. I had never understood what he meant. "He knew?" Aarav nodded. "He was trying to protect you." Tears filled my eyes. "And you knew all this time?" "I've been trying to get the original evidence back for years." I wiped my face. "Why?" He looked at me. His answer was almost a whisper. "Because I owed you the truth." I shook my head. "No. You owed me the truth five years ago." He looked down. "I know." For a moment, neither of us moved. Then I asked the question that had been sitting in my chest for years. "Did you ever hate me?" Aarav looked up. "No." "Not even once?" He smiled sadly. "Not even when you poured coffee over my laptop." I laughed through my tears. "That laptop deserved it." "It cost me three months' salary." "Good." He laughed. And for the first time, it didn't sound like an argument. It sounded like two people remembering who they used to be. Chapter 7: The Unexpected Twist Suddenly, the elevator made a loud mechanical noise. The lights flickered. A metallic voice came through the speaker. "Emergency power restored. Please remain calm. Assistance is on the way." I exhaled. "Finally." Aarav stood up. "Looks like we're getting out." I looked at him. "There's something I want to ask." "Go ahead." "Why are you still working here?" He frowned. "What?" "At this company. Why did you stay?" He hesitated. Then he took out his phone. "I think you should see something." He opened an old email. It was dated five years earlier. The sender was Aarav. The recipient was the university's academic integrity committee. The subject line read: CONFIDENTIAL: Evidence of Research Theft and Academic Fraud. I began reading. There were documents attached. Original drafts. Emails. Financial transactions. And a recording. I looked at him. "You kept all this?" "Yes." "Why didn't you give it to me?" "Because the person who arranged the theft was powerful. I needed enough evidence to make sure they couldn't bury it again." I stared at the screen. Then I noticed something strange. The final email in the chain was addressed to someone named: NISHA SHARMA — HUMAN RESOURCES DIRECTOR. I frowned. "Why is HR involved?" Aarav looked uncomfortable. "Because there's more." He opened another document. It was an internal company report. My name appeared at the top. Below it was a statement: EMPLOYEE RECRUITMENT — SPECIAL CONSIDERATION. I looked at him. "What is this?" Aarav swallowed. "I didn't want you to find out like this." "Find out what?" He took a deep breath. "I was the person who recommended you for this job." I stared at him. "What?" "When your application came in, I recognised your name. I knew what had happened. I asked the board to give you an interview." "You mean I got this job because of you?" "No. You got the job because you were the best candidate. I simply made sure your application wasn't rejected before anyone read it." I couldn't speak. He continued. "And when you got promoted last year, I recommended you again." I laughed in disbelief. "Why would you do that?" He looked at me. "Because you deserved the opportunities someone had stolen from you." My eyes filled with tears. "Why didn't you tell me?" "Would you have believed me?" I opened my mouth. Then closed it. He was right. I wouldn't have. But there was one more thing. Aarav scrolled to the final page. It was a photograph. An old university document. A handwritten note from my father. I recognised his handwriting immediately. If you ever get the chance, please make sure my daughter doesn't lose faith in herself. She has worked too hard for her dreams. My hands began trembling. I looked at Aarav. He had tears in his eyes. "I promised him." I stared at the photograph. Then at the man standing in front of me. And suddenly, I understood. The unexpected twist wasn't that Aarav had been innocent. It was that the man I had hated for five years had quietly spent those same five years trying to give me back the future I thought he had stolen. Chapter 8: The Doors Open A loud metallic click interrupted us. The elevator shuddered. Then began moving. Slowly. Floor by floor. Neither of us spoke. When the doors finally opened, the building's security team was waiting outside. "Are you both all right?" someone asked. I nodded. Aarav stepped out first. Then turned towards me. "Are you coming?" I looked at him. For five years, I had imagined the day I would finally defeat Aarav Malhotra. I had imagined making him apologise. I had imagined watching him lose everything. But standing there, looking at him, I realised I didn't want any of those things anymore. I wanted answers. I wanted time. And, perhaps most frighteningly, I wanted to know him. Really know him. I stepped out. "Coffee?" I asked. He raised an eyebrow. "Are you offering?" "Don't make me regret it." He smiled. "Black. No sugar." I stopped. "How do you know I drink coffee without sugar?" He looked at me. "Because I've known you for five years." And just like that, something inside me changed. Chapter 9: The Truth Outside the Elevator Three weeks later, the company launched an internal investigation. The evidence Aarav had preserved was enough to reopen the university's academic misconduct case. Professor Mehra was investigated for research theft and financial fraud. My name was formally cleared. The scholarship decision was officially acknowledged as having been influenced by fraudulent allegations. For the first time in five years, I could look at my academic records without feeling ashamed. Aarav never asked for recognition. He never mentioned his role in the investigation. He simply continued doing his job, annoying everyone in meetings, and drinking coffee without sugar. Except now, something was different. We started having lunch together. Then dinners. Then long conversations after work. I learned that he hated horror films but watched them anyway because his younger sister loved them. He learned that I talked to plants when I was stressed. We discovered that we had both been secretly listening to the same old songs. And one evening, sitting on the office terrace, I asked him: "Why did you never tell me you were trying to help?" He looked at the city lights. "Because I didn't want you to feel like you owed me anything." I looked at him. "And now?" He smiled. "Now I think you owe me a coffee." I laughed. "That's all?" "For starters." I shook my head. "You are still unbelievably annoying." "And you're still terrible at saying thank you." I smiled. "Thank you, Aarav." He looked at me. For a second, he seemed genuinely surprised. Then he smiled. "You're welcome." Chapter 10: The Final Message Six months later, on the anniversary of the night we got trapped in the elevator, Aarav asked me to meet him there. I arrived at 8:43 p.m. The elevator doors were open. He was standing inside, holding two coffees. I raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?" He grinned. "Don't worry. I've checked the maintenance records." "That's reassuring." I stepped inside. He handed me a coffee. We stood in silence for a moment. Then he said: "There's something I've wanted to tell you." I looked at him. "Go on." He took a breath. "I didn't hate you at university." "I know." "I thought you were extraordinary." I blinked. "What?" "You were the only person who challenged me. You never cared about my surname, my money, or my reputation. You argued with me even when everyone else agreed." I smiled. "Because you were usually wrong." He laughed. "See? Exactly that." Then his expression softened. "I think I started falling for you long before I knew what to do about it." My heart skipped. I looked down at my coffee. "That's unfortunate." "Why?" "Because I think I might be falling for you now." He smiled. "Only might?" "Don't push your luck." He moved closer. "Can I ask you something?" "What?" "If we hadn't got stuck in this elevator, do you think we would have ever become friends?" I thought about it. The years of arguments. The misunderstandings. The things we had never said. Then I looked at him. "No." He raised an eyebrow. "No?" "We would have probably continued hating each other." He laughed. "Fair enough." I reached for his hand. "But perhaps we needed to get stuck to finally stop running away." He looked at me. And kissed me. For once, neither of us had anything clever to say. Epilogue: One Last Secret A year later, we were going through old files in the company's archive when I found something strange. It was an elevator maintenance report. I opened it. The date was the night we had been trapped together. The report stated that the elevator's emergency stop had been activated manually from the building's control room. I frowned. "That's weird." Aarav looked over my shoulder. "What?" "The elevator didn't malfunction." He read the report. His face changed. "What the hell?" The report contained one final entry: MANUAL HOLD ACTIVATED: 20:43 AUTHORISATION: BUILDING ADMINISTRATOR REASON: CONFIDENTIAL PERSONNEL MATTER. I stared at him. "Someone deliberately stopped the elevator?" Aarav took the report from my hands. "Apparently." "Who?" He looked at the bottom of the page. There was a handwritten note. I recognised the handwriting immediately. It belonged to my father. My father had died seven years earlier. The note read: If these two ever find themselves in the same building again, give them five minutes without an escape route. They have spent too long running from the truth. I couldn't breathe. Aarav slowly looked at me. Neither of us spoke. Then I noticed something else. The maintenance report had been digitally signed by the building administrator. The date of the signature was not five years ago. It was the day before the elevator incident. I looked at Aarav. "Who authorised this?" He didn't answer. His eyes were fixed on the signature. Because beneath the administrator's name was another name. NISHA SHARMA. The same woman who had helped preserve his evidence. The same woman who had recommended both of us for our positions. The same woman who had been my father's closest friend. And suddenly, I understood. Someone had known the truth all along. Someone had waited five years for us to stop hating each other. Someone had deliberately placed us in that elevator. I turned towards Aarav. "Do you think she knew?" He looked at me. Then smiled. "Maybe." I shook my head. "This is insane." He took my hand. "Well, at least we know one thing." "What?" "Next time we're in an elevator, we're taking the stairs." I laughed. And as the doors slowly closed around us, I realised something. Sometimes, the person you hate isn't your enemy. Sometimes, they're the person who has been waiting for you to finally see them. And sometimes, the most unexpected twist isn't discovering that someone has been hiding a secret. It's discovering that someone has been trying to bring you home all along. THE END.