Then I turned to one of the support staff members standing near the door.
"Can someone please arrange chairs for them? There is no need for them to stand during the entire meeting."
There was a brief flurry of activity as two chairs were quickly brought in and positioned along the wall. Akshita and Viya sat down, and I noticed Viya's hands were trembling slightly as she adjusted her grip on her iPad.
Was she nervous about the meeting? Or nervous because I was here?
The meeting began. Vikrant started the presentation, walking through the progress the development team had made on the client's application. Charts and graphs appeared on the large screen at the front of the room. Code snippets were displayed and explained. Timelines were reviewed.
The clients looked impressed. They asked good questions, and the developers provided confident, knowledgeable answers.
It should have been easy for me to focus on the content. This was important work, work that would generate significant revenue for the company if we landed this contract.
But I could not focus.
My eyes kept drifting back to Viya.
She was completely absorbed in the presentation. Her eyes tracked every slide, every piece of information being shared. Her fingers moved across her iPad screen, clearly taking detailed notes. Her brow was furrowed slightly in concentration, and I could see her lips moving occasionally, as though she was talking herself through some technical concept.
She looked so different here than she had last night. Last night, she had been fragile and frightened, a girl thrust into a situation she did not understand and could not control. But here, in this professional setting, she looked confident. Capable. Like she belonged.
I found myself wondering what kind of developer she was. Was she good at her job? Did she enjoy the work? What were her strengths? Her weaknesses?
I knew nothing about this woman I had married. Nothing real, anyway.
About halfway through the presentation, Vikrant paused and looked toward the back of the room.
"Viya, you have been working closely on the performance optimization module. Do you have any input on the latency issues the client mentioned earlier?"
Every head in the room turned to look at her.
I watched as a flash of surprise crossed her face, followed quickly by determination. She stood up, her iPad still in her hands, and cleared her throat.
"Yes, actually. I have been analyzing the current architecture, and I believe we can reduce the app's latency significantly by implementing a more efficient caching strategy. Right now, we are making redundant server calls for data that does not change frequently. If we cache that data locally and only refresh it when necessary, we could cut response time by at least thirty percent."
She spoke clearly and confidently, her technical knowledge evident in every word. She was not just reciting something she had memorized. She understood the problem and had thought through a solution.
I was impressed.
Very impressed.
Several people around the table nodded in agreement. The clients leaned forward, clearly interested in this proposal.
Vikrant looked pleased.
"That is an excellent suggestion, Viya. What do you think, sir?" He turned to me.
I kept my expression neutral, professional, even though something warm was spreading through my chest.
"I think it is a solid approach. It demonstrates good understanding of both the technical requirements and the user experience priorities."
I paused, then made a decision that was probably not entirely professional but that I could not seem to stop myself from making.
"Viya, I would like you to prepare a detailed proposal of your optimization strategy and present it to me personally tomorrow. Include the technical specifications, the implementation timeline, and the expected performance improvements."
I saw her eyes widen slightly. Her grip on the iPad tightened, her knuckles going white.
"Yes, sir," she said quietly. "I will have it ready."