I step into my office, with Ivaan in my arms excitedly chattering.

His arms wrapped around my neck, my Italian suit probably has wrinkles from his grip, but I couldn't care less.

"And then, Mr. Big, Sarah said my drawing was the best in class!" he beams, pulling back just enough to look at me.

Those innocent eyes, never fail to melt something inside me.

"Is that so, buddy? Well, we'll have to put that masterpiece on my office wall then," I grin, adjusting him.

His dark curls tickle my chin as he giggles and pecks my cheeks.

I close my eyes. Five days. Five fucking days of silence that have been driving me insane.

My phone weighted with all those unanswered calls and messages.

The restlessness has been eating at me, making it hard to focus in meetings, impossible to sleep at night.

The emptiness of my house without them... I've been avoiding going home early, pushing myself into work instead.

I wasn't prepared for it, their absence, one I'm not ready to acknowledge even to myself.

When did they become so essential to my peace of mind?

"Mr. Big?" Ivaan's voice pulls me from the spiral of my thoughts.

"Hmm?"

"Can we get ice cream later?"

I'm about to answer when she catches my eye.

And suddenly, everything else fades away. Ishika.

She's standing near my desk, and the sight of her hits me like a physical blow.

My heart actually fucking stops for a moment. She's wearing those wide-leg jeans that make her legs look endless, a simple crop top that shows just a hint of skin.

Her hair falls loose around her shoulders, slightly messy like she's been running her fingers through it.

She looks beautiful. Tired, but beautiful.

There are shadows under her eyes that weren't there before, and something in her seems off.

I want go to her, to pull her into my arms and ask why was she ignoring me, but I control myself.

First, I need answers.

I move toward her, still holding Ivaan.

She tries to smile, but I catch the slight tremor in her lips, the way her fingers twist nervously.

Something's definitely wrong, and it's taking all my self-control not to demand answers right now.

"Hi," she says softly.

"Hey," I respond, studying her face.

There's a wariness in her eyes that wasn't there before, and it makes something dark and uncomfortable curl in my stomach.

Ivaan wiggles in my arms, reaching for her.

"Mama! Look what Mr. Big got me!" She takes him, and I watch as she fusses over the new toy.

The natural smile and free movements of hers with him only make me realise how stiff she is around me.

She keeps a careful distance, her body angled slightly away, avoiding my eyes.

"The view from here is amazing," she comments lightly, gesturing toward the windows.

Her casualness grates against my nerves.

"Ishika." My voice comes out quieter than intended, rougher.

She glances at me quickly before looking away again, and the flash of something like pain in her eyes makes my fists clench.

"I just came to pick up Ivaan," she says, her tone deliberately light.

"He was missing you, and Nikhil said-"

"Five days," I cut her off. The words come out harsh, laden with all the frustration and worry of the past week.

"You haven't answered my calls for five days." She shifts uncomfortably, adjusting Ivaan in her arms.

Her throat works as she swallows.

"I've been busy with studies, and-"

"Bullshit." The word snaps between us like a whip, and I see her flinch slightly.

Something protective and possessive rises in my chest at her reaction.

My fist clenches harder at my side as I try to contain the storm of emotions threatening to break loose.

The need to touch her, to ensure she's really here, to feel her against me, wars with my growing frustration.

Like an uncontrolled command.

What the hell is happening to my crazy mind?

I notice Ivaan tightening his hold around her neck.

I press the intercom button, never taking my eyes off her.

"Neil?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Could you come in for a moment?"

Neil appears promptly, and I force a smile that feels like it might crack my face.

"Could you take Ivaan to the cafeteria? Get him something to eat, show him around a bit?"

Ishika stiffens, her arms tightening around Ivaan.

"That's not necessary, we should-"

"Neil," I cut her off again, my tone leaving no room for argument.

I see her throat work as she swallows.

Neil nods, and takes Ivaan from Ishika's reluctant arms.

"Come on, buddy. Let's go find some ice cream."

As soon as they leave, I walk to the door and lock it. The sound seems to echo in the sudden silence.

I watch as Ishika's eyes widen, her body getting tensed as her breathing quickens slightly.

I settle into my chair, my patience hanging by a thread. The leather creaks under me as I lean back, folding the sleeves.

"Come here."

She straightens, lifting her chin in that defiant way that always makes me want to kiss her senseless.

"Actually, I have a test scheduled today. I really should-"

"Ishika." My voice drops lower.

"Come. Here."

She hesitates, and I can almost see her mind working. Finally, she moves closer, stopping a few feet from my chair.

"Sit," I say firmly, gesturing to the chair opposite mine.

I study her face, noting every detail – the rose tint across the bridge of her nose, the way she's biting the inside of her lip, the tremor in her hands that she's trying to hide.

"What's going on?" I ask, my voice quieter now but no less intense.

"You've been avoiding me for days. No calls, no messages?"

She doesn't respond immediately, her hands twisting in her lap. I can see the conflict in her eyes, the way she's struggling to find the right words.

It only fuels my frustration.

I lean forward in my chair, keeping my movements deliberately slow.

"Then why have you been avoiding my calls?" I say again, my tone sharper this time

"I'm fine," she says finally, but her voice lacks conviction. "I've just been busy."

"Busy?" I echo, my brow furrowing.

"Too busy to answer my calls? To let me know if you and Ivann are okay?"

She flinches slightly, and I immediately regret my tone. Taking a deep breath, I try to rein in my emotions.

"Please Ishika talk to me. Is there something troubling you?"

She finally meets my gaze, and what I see in her eyes makes my heart ache.

There's pain there, and fear, and something else I can't quite place.

It's enough to make me want to cross the desk and pull her into my arms, but I hold myself back, waiting for her to speak.

"I don't know how to say it," she admits, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her eyes well up with tears, and she quickly looks away, blinking them back.

"It's not that simple," she says, her voice breaking.

I stand, unable to stay seated any longer. Rounding the desk, I kneel in front of her, taking her hands in mine.

She startles slightly at the contact but doesn't pull away.

"Ishika," I say softly, my thumbs brushing over her knuckles. "Whatever it is, you can tell me. I'm here."

"I... I should go," she says, avoiding my gaze. "Ivann's waiting."

I rise to my feet, frustration bubbling to the surface again.

"Ishika, stop running. Please." She pauses her back to me.

"I've a tes-"The last thread of my patience snaps.

In one fluid motion, I stand and close the distance between us.

She takes another step back, but I catch her wrist, pulling her closer.

Her pulse races under my fingers, her skin warm and soft against mine.

"Don't lie to me," I growled through gritted teeth, my free hand coming up to cup her face.

She tries to turn away, but I hold her still, tightly.

Her familiar scent – rose and something uniquely her – fills my senses.

I close my eyes shut, trying to feign away my desires. Slowly I exhale, and open my eyes.

"Something's Wrong, And You're Going To Tell Me What It Is." I say, demanding answers.

"Abhiraj, please..." Her voice wavers slightly, and the sound of my name on her lips after so long makes something in my chest constrict.

"I need to go-"I silence her with a kiss, firm and demanding.

For a moment, she's stiff in my arms, resistant, but then something seems to break.

She melts against me with a small sound that drives me crazy, her hands coming up to grip my shirt.

I can feel the tension in her body, the way she's fighting against her own response, and it only makes me deepen the kiss.

Her lips are soft, yielding, tasting faintly of the lip balm she always uses.

I slide my hand into her hair, angling her head to deepen the kiss further.

She makes another small sound, somewhere between a whimper and a moan, and it sends heat coursing through my veins.

When I finally pull back, her eyes are closed, her breathing uneven.

Her lips are slightly swollen from my kiss, and the sight makes me want to claim them again.

"Talk to me," I whisper against her mouth.

She shakes her head slightly, still not opening her eyes. Her fingers flex against my chest.

"I can't... not now." I trail my lips down her neck, feeling her pulse race under my mouth.

The soft skin there tastes like salt and something sweet, and I have to resist the urge to mark her.

"Why not?"

"Because..." She gasps as I find that sensitive spot below her ear, her body arching slightly into mine.

I suck the delicate pale brown skin, making her whine.

"Beca...use I'm n...ot rea...dy."

I pull back just enough to look at her face, keeping her firmly against me.

Her eyes are open now, dark and conflicted, filled with a mixture of desire and uncertainty that makes my chest ache.

Her cheeks are flushed, her breathing shallow.

"Ready for what?" I press, my thumb tracing her bottom lip.

It trembles under my touch. She tries to step back again, but my arm around her waist holds her in place.

The heat of her body through the thin fabric of her top is maddening.

"Abhiraj. Please." The vulnerability in her voice makes me pause.

I study her face, seeing the conflict there.

Something's hurting her, and the fact that she won't tell me what it is makes me want to shake her and kiss her senseless at the same time. Instead, I press my lips against her forehead, giving her a gentle kiss, closing my eyes.

"We're not done yet."

She doesn't respond, but her hands tighten clutching my shirt.

I can feel her heart racing against my chest.

"Five days," I murmur, my hands spanning her waist.

"Five fucking days of silence. Do you have any idea what that's done to me?"

I feel her breath hitch.

"I'm sorry."

Finally, I let out a harsh breath, releasing her.

The loss of her warmth is immediate and unwelcome.

"Fine." I step back, running a hand through my hair.

The frustration is crawling against my chest.

"I should go get Ivaan," she says quietly, her voice still slightly unsteady.

I watch her move toward the door, "Ishika?"

She pauses but doesn't turn around.

"Don't shut me out again. I won't let you." She stands there for a moment longer, and I can see her fighting with herself.

Then, without a word, she slips out of the office, leaving me alone with the lingering scent of her perfume and the taste of her still on my lips. 

I sink back into my chair, my body humming with tension. 

The ghost of her touch still lingers on my skin, and I find myself staring at the door she just walked through, wondering what the hell is going on in that beautiful, complicated mind of hers.

And more importantly, wondering how long I can actually wait before I demand answers.

Third Person Pov

Ishika sits on the living room floor, her back propped against the edge of the couch, absentmindedly twisting a loose thread on the cushion in her lap.

She's lost in her thoughts, replaying the heated moments from earlier that day.

His lips against hers, the heat of his touch lingering on her skin.

His raw voice demanding answers, ignites a whole lot of mixed emotions in her heart and a warmth she's trying to ignore.

Ishika shakes her head, trying to dismiss the sensations curling in her chest.

"Mama?" Ivaan's voice pulls her out of her thoughts.

She blink, focusing on him as he crouches beside his car, carefully turning it upright after it tips over.

"Yes, baby?" she ask, her voice softer than usual.

"When will Mr. big come?" Ivaan asks innocently, his dark eyes wide as he looks up at her, the remote still clutched in his small hands.

Her brow furrows as she process his words, her heart giving an involuntary leap at the sound of it.

A flush creeps up her neck, and she glance away, the memory of Abhiraj's hands on her waist flooding back unbidden.

"Why... why would he come?" she asks.

Ivaan looks up at me, his dark eyes wide and innocent.

"Because he promised," he says, his small fingers manoeuvring the car around the legs of the coffee table.

"He said he'd visit us tonight."

Her heart skips a beat. Her mind races, trying to make sense of what he's saying.

When had Abhiraj made this promise? She doesn't recall any mention of him visiting.

The memory of Abhiraj's determined tone in his office flashes through hr mind. We're not done yet. Did he mean tonight?

She let out a shaky breath, ruffling Ivaan's curls as he continues to focus on his car.

"When did he tell you that?" She asks, keeping her tone light even as her pulse races.

"Before you came," he says, his words tumbling out between giggles as the car bumps into his foot.

"Papa said he'd come see us. Just me and you."

Her chest tightens at his casual use of the word "Papa."

She bite her lip, feeling a complicated mix of emotions swirl inside her.

Something dangerously close to longing. She glance at the clock, the minutes ticking by slowly. Tonight? Is he really coming?

Around 8:00 PM

The flat is quiet now, except for the low hum of the television and the soft, animated narration from the wildlife channel.

Ivaan wide eyes glued to the screen. The Arctic Ocean glimmers on the TV, with seals darting gracefully through the icy waters.

He's entranced, his little hands resting on his knees as he leans slightly forward.

"Ivaan," Ishika calls softly, barely gaining his attention.  

"I'm going to take a bath. Don't open the door, okay? Unless it's Nani or Masi."

He nods distractedly, his eyes still attached to the tv, "Okay mamma."

Ishika gives him a final glance, and walks to her room.

She opened the wardrobe fetching out her night clothes and place them on the bed.

She was about to lock the bedroom door, but stops, What if Ivaan needed something? He is alone in the living area, and leaves the door unlocked.

Inside the bathroom, she turns on the shower, the hot water cascaded over her skin, steaming against the cool tiles and filling the bathroom with a dense, comforting warmth.

The heat loosens the tension in her shoulders. She tilts her head back, closing her eyes as the droplets trail down her skin, a soothing balm to her overworked nerves.

For a moment the world fades away, as she's hit by the memory of that kiss her husband gave her in the office, vivid and intense.

She presses her hands against the tiled wall. His lips.

The way they claimed hers with such rawness, igniting something deep within her. The heat of his hand against her waist, pulling her closer.

Her breath hitches, her fingers subconsciously grazing her lips.

The heat in her chest spreads lower, pooling deep in her core.

She remembers the way his hands had cradled her face, his lips laying kisses along her neck.

Her other hands drifts to her neck and she can't stop the soft gasp that escapes her lips. 

"Abhiraj..."his name leaves her lips in a whisper.

Her knees feel weak, she swallow hard, trying to push the sensations away.

The water grows hotter as she twist the knob absentmindedly, mirroring the heat building within her.

Her chest rises and falls faster, the memory of his thumb tracing her bottom lip playing on a loop in your head.

Why does he affect her like this? 

She exhaled sharply, annoyed at herself. 

After rinsing off, she turned off the shower and wrapped herself in a towel. 

Abhiraj's Pov

The balcony offers a decent view of the cityscape, but my focus is on the call.

It's an unnecessary work interruption, and I'm doing my best to end it quickly.

All I want right now is to resolve the issue with my wife and take her and my kid back to home.

It has become unbearable to return to an empty house, the woman has made it impossible.

You might have done something to put her in this state.

That might be true enough but to resolve the issue she has to at least address it.

I glance inside through the glass door, seeing the dimly lit interior of Ishika's room.

I cut the call when my eyes catch movement inside.

Ishika steps out of the bathroom, steam trailing after her, a white towel wrapped snugly around her body.

My breath catches in my throat.

She moves quickly to lock the door, her damp hair sticking to her skin, and for a moment, I'm rooted in place, unable to look away.

The towel clings to her curves, droplets of water glistening on her collarbone, her shoulders, her legs.

I can feel myself stiffening.

Bloody hell. Stop. I order my dick. She's completely unaware of my presence.

I'm torn. I should step away, give her privacy. Except I didn't want to, my pulse hammering as I watch her move toward the bed.

She picks up her phone and begins playing a song, the soft melody filling the room.

And then she does something that makes my stomach tighten.

She untucks the towel and lets it drop to the floor.

I can't breathe.

Her back is to me, and all I can see is the curve of her spine, the dip of her waist, and the soft lines of her body.

The gentleman in me warring with the husband who's missed her in ways words can't describe.

I should look away. But I don't.

She picks up the towel again and starts drying her hair, her movements unhurried and graceful.

Her humming continues, and there's something so natural, so intimate about this moment that it makes my chest ache.

She's comfortable, at ease, and completely unaware of my presence.

I take a step closer to the door, drawn by an invisible force.

What if she knew I was here?

She does have a lovely back, her hips are more on a perkier side. Stop that, you moron.

When she turns to reach for something on the bed, her eyes land on me.

Time seems to stop.

Her breasts are beautiful.

Ishika's POV

My heart jumps into my throat when I see him. He's standing there, near the balcony door, his figure partially illuminated by the faint city lights behind him.

His eyes are locked on me, dark and intense, and I feel a flush creep up my neck.

My breath hitches as I scramble to cover myself, holding the towel against my chest.

"Abhiraj!" I manage, my voice a mix of shock and embarrassment.

"What are you... how long have you been here?"

He doesn't answer immediately. Instead, he steps inside, closing the balcony door behind him.

His movements are deliberate, his gaze never leaving mine.

There's something in his eyes — a mix of hunger, frustration, and something deeper, something that makes my knees weak.

"Not long," he finally says, his voice low and rough.

"But long enough."

I clutch the towel tighter, my body radiating heat.

My heart is pounding so loudly I'm sure he can hear it.

The way he's looking at me... I take a step back, but he moves closer, his presence is overwhelming.

Not knowing how to respond, I snap, "You're supposed to knock!"

Abhiraj's POV

She's nervous, and it's almost endearing. Her eyes dart away from mine, she grips the towel tightly around her.

I take another step closer, closing the distance between us. She backs up until her legs hit the bed, and I stop just short of touching her.

My hands itch to reach out, to brush away the damp strands of hair clinging to her face, to feel the warmth of her skin against mine.

But I hold myself back.

"You're in your mother's house, I know," I say, my voice soft but teasing.

"But right now, this is your room, isn't it? And that makes me your uninvited guest." I tilt my head, letting my smirk widen just a little.

"Shouldn't you be a bit more welcoming?"

I'm worried she'll notice the growing bulge in my pants.

She narrows her eyes at me, though the effect is diminished by the way she's biting the inside of her cheek, a faint flush creeping up her neck.

"Welcoming?"

"Abhiraj, you walked in without knocking! And you..." She gestures vaguely, clearly unable to bring herself to say it out loud.

"I didn't walk in," I correct her.

"I was already here, in the balcony. Completely innocent. You're the one who..." I pause, letting my gaze dip just enough to notice her peeking cleavage, before meeting her eyes again. "...decided to make this a little more interesting."

Her mouth drops open, and I know I've pushed her buttons just right.

"I... You...!" she stammers, her grip on the towel tightening.

"Maybe...you could have gracefully turned your back and behaved like a gentleman would."

"Gentleman? Me?" I arch an eyebrow, stepping closer.

" Bella, you're accusing your perfectly innocent husband of mischief, when all I did was happen to be in the wrong place at the right time."

I grin, enjoying the way her blush deepens.

"Although, I have to admit, if this is how you greet visitors, I might visit more often."

She groans, burying her face in one hand.

"You're unbearable," she mutters, her voice muffled.

"And you're stunning," I counter, my tone softer now.

Her hand lowers slightly, and our eyes meet.

Her eyes softened a bit, but what itched me the lingering doubt in her eyes.

"I'm not teasing, Tinkerbell. You're beautiful."

Her breath catches, and for a moment, I see something shift in her expression...something raw.

But then she looks away, shaking her head slightly as if to dispel the moment.

"I'll step out," I say softly. "Take your time, I'll wait in the living area."

I don't wait for her to respond, and step out of the room.

I close my eyes shut, I nearly threw her on the bed so that I could get the taste of her skin.

The craving was so strong. Her bare breast, pert and rounded adorned with those tight dark brown nipples.

It begged to be pulled in my mouth and sucked until she whimpered in bliss.

My dick perks up again.

No, first I need to know why my wife is being distant. Till then you're going to stay down.

I watch him, his small frame nestled against me. He shifts slightly resting his head against my chest.

His eyes are fixed on the TV as he watches the Arctic Ocean on the screen.

I tighten my hold just a little, pulling him a bit closer. I let my thumb brush gently against his shoulder, tracing the soft fabric of his sweater.

I never thought I'll be this lucky to have a son like Ivaan. Even if he isn't my real son , but with each passing day the, an unknown attachment is emerging.

It's hard to explain, as if he's more of my son with each passing second I spend with him.

Ivaan shifts slightly in my embrace, his small fingers curling around the edge of my sleeve.

His eyes remain fixed on the screen as a pod of beluga whales glides through the icy waters.

"Mr. Big, look," he murmurs, his voice soft but laced with quiet excitement.

"They're talking to each other."

I glance at the screen. The documentary narrator explains how belugas communicate through clicks and whistles, their sounds carrying through the vast Arctic waters.

"They are," I say, my voice just above a whisper.

"They stay close in a group, so they don't lose each other."

He tilts his head. "Do you think they get scared in the dark ocean?"

I pause, watching the screen as a mother beluga nudges her calf through the icy current.

"Maybe," I answer honestly.

"But they have each other. That helps."

"They look like big marshmallows"

I chuckle softly, brushing a hand over his hair.

I hear the door click open, I glance at the clock, she stayed in the room for more than twenty-five minutes.

Ishika steps out, fully dressed now, her hair damp.

Her cheeks are flushed, and she avoids looking directly at me.

"Ivaan, why don't you watch some more of your Arctic show? Mama and I will be right back, okay?"

He nods enthusiastically, already engrossed in the TV again.

I stand, my movements calm and deliberate, and walk over to Ishika.

She stiffens slightly when I approach, but I don't let it deter me.

Gently, I take her hand in mine.

She looks up at me then, her wide eyes searching mine for some clue as to what I'm doing.

"Come," I say softly, leading her toward the balcony attached to the living area.

The balcony is quiet, the city stretched out before us in a sea of twinkling lights.

The air is cool, carrying the faint scent of trees from the park below. It's peaceful here.

I let go of her hand and lean against the railing, giving her space to settle.

She stands a few feet away, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, her gaze fixed on the horizon.

"I can't help but wonder what's caused this sudden distance between us." I utter, still gazing at the stars.

She let's out an unsteady breath.

And finally, she turns to me, her eyes blank.

"Dhriti. Your ex-girlfriend, the woman you brought into the house you share with your wife."

Those words slammed through me. Shit.

"When I was in Seattle, I told Dhriti to keep a check on Ivaan in my absence."

I sighed, realizing what she's saying and what I've been doing all along.

I grip the railing until my knuckles turn white. God, what a mess I've created.

All because I thought I was being clever, keeping Dhriti at home instead of dealing with her presence at the office during her notice period.

Now it seems like the stupidest decision I've ever made.

"I met her at pottery class last week," Ishika continues, her voice carrying a weight I've never heard before.

"We were exiting the park aside after the class. Imagine my surprise when your ex-girlfriend had to tell me about your past.

That too I had to force it out of her. I felt like a fool."

I turn to face her, desperation clawing at my throat. "Ishika, I..."

"Don't."

"For five days, I've tried to understand why. Why you would bring your ex-girlfriend into our home without telling me.

Into the space where I'm supposed to feel safe, where I'm supposed to be your wife.

Why you thought it was okay to keep me in the dark?"

Her words makes me wince. Because she's right – I've treated our marriage, treated her, with such casual disregard. What the hell was I thinking?

She looked at me, her dark eyes brimming with emotion. My heart clenched. I didn't want her to cry.

I close my eyes momentarily trying to be honest with her.

"I couldn't handle her at the office," I say, the words sounding pathetic even to my ears.

"She was leaving anyway, just serving her notice period. I thought... I thought it would be easier this way."

She lets out a laugh that sounds more like a sob.

"Easier? For whom, Abhiraj? For you? Because it certainly wasn't easier for me to find out from her that the woman who's been in our home for weeks used to be the one you loved before our families arranged this marriage."

I run my hands through my hair, fighting the urge to scream at my own stupidity. "I never meant..."

"You never meant what?"

"You never meant for me to find out? You never meant to make me feel like I'm just some inconvenient obligation you're stuck with?

Because that's exactly what this feels like.

Like I'm so insignificant in your life that you didn't even think I deserved to know about something like this."

"That's not true," I protest, taking a step toward her, but she backs away.

"Isn't it?" Her voice breaks.

"For all these months, I've tried to pacify myself. I've respected that you didn't choose this marriage, that maybe you needed time.

I've tried to be understanding, to be patient, to be whatever you needed me to be.

And all this time, you couldn't even give me the basic respect of being honest with me."

Each word she speaks makes me hate myself more.

Because she's right – she's been nothing but patient, nothing but kind, and I've been too caught up in my own head to see it.

She turns away. Tears are flowing down her cheek.

Unable to hold myself, I turn her face to me, wiping the tears with my hand, I look into her eyes.

"I'm so sorry Bella, I..." I swallow, collecting my thoughts.

"At first, I was just angry with everything—work, expectations, this marriage I was still trying to wrap my head around.

I didn't think it was necessary to tell you about Dhriti because, to me, she didn't mean anything anymore.

There was nothing left between us. It was over long before you and I got married.

So when she had to serve her notice period, it just seemed like a temporary arrangement, nothing worth bringing up."

She is my wife, and I'm hating that I'm the reason behind the tears in her eyes. I should have known better.

"I didn't think through how it would look, how it would make you feel.

I should have told you. I made you feel like you weren't important, and that's the last thing I ever wanted."

"Why did I have to hear it from her?"

"I should have. I thought it wouldn't matter because I have no feelings for her.

But now I see that by keeping quiet, I made it seem like I had something to hide when I didn't. That was my mistake, and I'm sorry."

"There's no competition, Ishika. There's no fight. You are my wife. You are the one who matters."

"Really?" Her lips quiver.

I couldn't help it. I lean over and brush my lips against hers.

I've made that mistake once, and I vow never to be the cause of her tears again.

"I promise." I whisper, as I press my forehead gently against hers.

"You hurt me, Abhiraj."

"I wish I would have told you before. I wish."

I collect her into my arms, pressing her closer to my body. Gently swinging us to calm her, my bella.

I nuzzle my face into the curve of her neck.

She's so small, so delicate.

              To be continued...

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