The Thing He Missed
A quiet short story
“You close the deal. Anyhow.
And don’t blame me if they repeat what happened with John.”
The call ended before I could respond.
My body reacted anyway.
Heat rose up my neck. Sweat gathered along my spine. My phone felt heavier in my hand, as if it carried more than a voice—more than a warning.
John.
How would John survive?
What would happen if I lost my career too?
What about all my success—vanishing in seconds?
I wasn’t supposed to be expendable.
Not at this level.
Not now.
Not today, when everyone was celebrating my success.
I closed my eyes and forced myself to breathe. Slow. Controlled. The way I had learned to do it when things slipped out of control and there was no one left to back me.
When I opened them, the past was staring back at me.
A massive red banner with white font stretched across the school building:
WELCOME, SUCCESSFUL ALUMNI!
The red walls were freshly painted, lined with boards celebrating alumni success. Logos. Designations. Cities. Proofs of arrival. The school’s pride now visible to the entire town.
My photograph stood out—larger, cleaner, impossible to miss.
President of a top MNC.
I felt a flicker of pride. Then disbelief followed.
My school was celebrating alumni success.
I was their main guest of honour. Their most successful alumnus.
My eyes drifted upward—to a window on the second floor. The one near the last bench. The one that had changed my life. Or at least, redirected it. The sight of it stirred something deep inside.
I unlocked my phone and opened my email.
Drafts.
My thumb hesitated. My hands trembled, then withdrew.
I closed the app immediately.
Not now.
I couldn’t afford memory when everything was on the line.
I reminded myself of the deal. I had been working on it for more than a year. If I lost it, nothing else would matter—not the present success, not the past struggle, not the man who once sat by that window.
I dialed my secretary.
“Renegotiate,” I said. “Change the terms. Push back. Do whatever it takes.”
She didn’t ask questions. She heard the desperation in my voice.
As I ended the call, a hand waved from across the courtyard.
I recognized it instantly.
***
“How have you been, Nick?”
Mrs. Rao, my old class teacher, tapped my arm gently. “We are so proud of you.”
I nodded, pursing my lips. I could see the pride in her eyes as she smiled.
But something felt amiss.
I knew the feeling. It had been with me ever since I left this school—quiet, persistent—tugging at me when I least expected it. I had learned to ignore it. Learned to stay busy instead.
Thankfully, my phone rang.
“Excuse me,” I said, already stepping away.
I went to a corner and picked up the call.
“Sir, the company isn’t budging,” my secretary said. “They’re firm on their prices. I tried, but—”
She paused, afraid to finish the sentence.
“But?”
My heart thudded hard against my chest.
“They’re ready to withdraw,” she said. “I think they have a better deal from our competitor.”
I pulled out my handkerchief and wiped the sweat from my forehead.
“Don’t give me excuses,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “Talk to their manager. Offer a better deal. Cut prices. I don’t care. Just close it.”
I ended the call without waiting for her reply. I went to the corner, drafted an email and sent to the company, offering a better deal. I wasn’t sure if my company would approve but I had to try as my career was on the line.
***
“Any problem, sir?”
The voice startled me. It was familiar—but changed.
My heart pounded again, this time with a different fear. The fear of being seen. Of being exposed in the middle of all this admiration.
I turned. “No problem, buddy,” I said, forcing a smile. “Just some important office work.”
“Big man you are,” Ashish said, grinning as he hugged me. “So proud of you, man.”
Once, we had shared everything—notes, dreams, stupid plans for the future. Now we shared only this moment.
I didn’t have the courage to tell him that what made him proud was hanging by a thread.
My success gave them hope.
I didn’t want to be the one who broke it.
We walked toward the others—old classmates, juniors. They were talking animatedly about their careers, laughing easily. As I reached them, the conversation stopped.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Maybe they saw me as the epitome of success. Maybe they didn’t know what to say.
I smiled anyway. Hugged them. Said the right things.
That’s when I noticed the Dean’s office.
A shiver ran down my spine as memories rushed in, uninvited and sharp.
Without thinking, I turned and walked toward it.
Slowly.
***
As I opened the Dean’s cabin, I saw my past self standing there—smaller, restless—facing the teachers and my parents.
It was the last day of school.
The complaints were familiar.
My absent-mindedness.
My lack of attention.
My habit of drifting away into thoughts no one could follow.
“He could be really successful,” Mrs. Rao had said. “If only he could focus on present realities instead of dreaming.”
The others nodded.
My parents took it seriously. They always did.
Together, they carved out my present-day success.
I felt a tear slide down my cheek as the memory moved on.
My father’s grip tightened around my hand as he walked me out of the cabin. I remember wanting to pull free—to run back, to reach the window—but something inside me wouldn’t move.
Fear, perhaps.
Or obedience.
My eyes stayed fixed on the window as he led me toward the school gate.
It was the last time I saw it.
Everyone said my life changed for the better after that.
I didn’t question it. Even when I wanted to.
Something stopped me.
Maybe a lack of self-belief.
Maybe the comfort of being told what was right.
I stepped out of the Dean’s cabin.
Ashish and the others called out to me, inviting me back. The formal introductions had begun.
I nodded.
But my eyes drifted once more to my most cherished place—
the window.
***
As I climbed the staircase for my classroom on the third floor, I remembered how I had climbed the success ladder. One step at a time. Someone or the other showing me the way. Sometimes it was my parents. Sometimes my teachers. Sometimes society itself.
Every time I achieved something, everyone celebrated with immense joy.
But I couldn’t feel it.
I didn’t question it, although I wanted to.
Something stopped me.
Maybe a lack of understanding of what the world truly values.
As I reached the third floor, another memory surfaced. These were the same stairs from which the teachers had carried me to the Dean’s cabin every time I spoke about my vision. They thought I was foolish to want to become something nobody valued.
I stopped outside my classroom.
This was the room where I had spent most of my days as punishment—for not adhering to rules, for not meeting grades, for failing expectations I didn’t fully understand at that age.
I entered the class and sat on the last bench.
The familiar feeling returned immediately.
The lack of curiosity.
The boredom.
The quiet emptiness.
And then I did what I used to do back then.
I looked out of the window.
As I looked out, I was lost again. I spotted a little bird taking flight. The different colours of the sky. The many possibilities of life.
I remembered the dream that had remained close to my heart—something I had buried that day in the Dean’s cabin.
It never truly left me.
It stayed with me, tugging quietly as I was being carved into a successful person.
Sometimes the feeling became so conflicting that it tormented me. I wanted to talk to my parents, my mentors, anyone who might understand. But every time I tried, I froze.
So I ignored it.
I kept doing what was expected of me.
Slowly, the tugging faded.
But it never disappeared.
It returned from time to time, reminding me of the dreams born at this very window.
When I became Vice President, my family was ecstatic. Proud.
I felt regret.
I couldn’t understand why.
That was when I wrote the email.
It was ten years ago.
It had stayed in my inbox ever since.
A buzz in my jacket pulled me back to the present.
***
“Sir, the vendor might agree, but he wants a further cut in prices,” my secretary called.
“ I have already offered him a better deal. I can’t go below that. That’s not in my hands,” I said. “I’ll have to talk to the CEO. You know his position on it.”
I stood up, forcing myself back into the present.
“That’s the only possible way we can close it, sir. Please try once.”
She sounded tense.
The words settled heavily inside me. They reminded me how much this deal mattered—to my company, to my position, to everything I had built so far. The trembling returned. I couldn’t fail now and destroy all my success.
What would everyone think of me at this point in my career?
No.
That couldn’t happen.
I pulled out my phone. My hands were still shaking, but somehow I made the call.
As I spoke to my boss, trying to convince him, my eyes drifted to the other window. Down below, my batchmates were introducing themselves, talking about how life had treated them. Some spotted me and waved, calling out my name.
I nodded back, still listening, still negotiating.
My boss agreed—partially.
That wasn’t a good sign.
There was only one option left.
I would have to speak to the vendor myself.
***
As I walked past the door, I looked back at the window again. Something tugged at me from inside—the same feeling. I turned back toward it and did what I used to do back in school.
I closed my eyes.
It pulled me into the past. Into the world I had once envisioned. Into the dreams I had forsaken.
I heard the announcer calling my name from the ground. It was my turn to speak.
I didn’t open my eyes.
I wanted to stay there, living the dream inside my mind. I felt something familiar—something I used to feel years ago when I stood by this very window, dreaming.
Is this what joy feels like?
Or happiness?
My phone buzzed.
I kept my eyes closed. I felt the air brush against my cheeks. Goosebumps rose on my skin—my body responding to a dream buried deep within me.
I opened my eyes slowly.
The feeling lingered. It had spread through me.
I thought of the email.
Something stopped me.
Fear, perhaps.
Or the need for validation.
Or something else I didn’t yet have words for.
My phone buzzed again.
It was the vendor.
***
I spoke to him, trying my best to convince him. He didn’t sound very positive. But demanded ten minutes to get back to me.
I ended the call and rushed toward the ground where I was supposed to make my introduction.
As I walked, I noticed something shift within me.
I wasn’t walking alone.
I was carrying something with me—something I had left behind at that window.
***
“Welcome, Nick. Nick doesn’t need any introduction,” Mrs. Rao announced. “He is the pride of our school now.”
She clapped. Applause filled the school premises.
I walked onto the stage. The noise faded. Silence settled.
I looked at Ashish. He was smiling, pride written all over his face. I looked at my teachers. There was a quiet satisfaction in their eyes—as if my life was a confirmation that they had done the right thing.
My gaze moved to the Dean. Age had softened her, but she looked content, fulfilled—happy that she had guided a distracted child onto the path of success.
I followed the corridor with my eyes. The one that led to the Dean’s office. Then the office itself. The place where my life had shifted. Then the window.
The window that could have made me what I had once envisioned.
It might not have given me money or validation.
But it would have given me happiness.
And a sense of fulfillment I had never known.
Tears escaped before I could stop them.
My phone buzzed.
I wiped my eyes and looked down.
“The deal is on.” My boss said. “Great work, Nick,” he sounded ecstatic. “You’ve succeeded again. There’s no stopping you now.”
I waited for relief. But it didn’t come.
I waited for a sense of achievement. But it didn’t come.
Instead, I felt what I used to feel standing by that window years ago. A quiet hope for a different life. A better one.
I closed my eyes.
“There was always something stopping me, sir,” I said.
“What?” His voice carried confusion.
“Fear,” I said. “Of standing alone. Of fighting for what I believed in. Of failing.”I paused.“But not anymore.”
I opened my email and sent the draft that had waited in my mailbox for ten years.
My resignation. Not just from the job—but from the life I had been living.
There was silence for a while. “Are you out of your mind?” my boss shouted. “Do you even realise what you’ll miss if you give this up?”
The mic was close enough for everyone to hear.
I looked up at the window of my classroom.
“Something was always missing, sir. But today I got it.”
I looked at Mrs. Rao. At the Dean. At the window.
“What?” my boss asked. But I could sense the question on everyone’s face now.
Outside, a bird took flight.
I pointed toward it.
“Just a little courage to follow my heart.”
Free Clean Romance
A must read for romance fans. Grab it free.
New Reads in Romance and Comedy
New reads in romance and comedy available at a discounted price.
In the most audacious book club novel of the year, this timely tale of two Americas blows open a world-famous dollhouse divided straight through the heartland.
Coming up next week 7th feb 26- The Happiest Person ( True Story from upcoming book- Quiet Clarity)