The sessions had slowly become less strained for both Priya and Ram. Though progress was painfully slow, Priya found herself cherishing the moments of clarity that sometimes flickered in his eyes, like stars breaking through a clouded night sky. Still, Ram remained trapped in his fragmented world, and Priya wrestled with her own helplessness.

One day, after a particularly silent session, Priya handed Ram a small video recorder. "Here," she said softly. "Whenever you feel something is worth remembering, record it. Maybe capturing those moments will help you piece things together."

Ram held the device in his hands, inspecting it as if it were a foreign object. Then, out of nowhere, he said, "Can we go somewhere else? I don't like this room. It suffocates me."

Priya blinked, caught off guard. "I understand," she replied gently, "but it's against the rules. I can't take you outside the facility."

Ram's demeanor shifted. He stood abruptly, his hands twitching at his sides as a restlessness overtook him. "No. I don't want to be here," he said, his voice uneven.

Priya placed a calming hand on his arm. "Okay, calm down," she said soothingly. "How about the café downstairs? Would that be okay?"

Ram stilled, his gaze softening. "Yeah. I'm hungry too," he mumbled.

She informed Mrs. Mehra of their plan and led Ram to the ground-floor café. The air was lighter there, filled with the hum of quiet conversations and the scent of fresh coffee. Priya ordered a sub and coffee for herself and guided Ram to a table near the window.

As she watched him eat, a pang of nostalgia hit her. The Ram she had known once was meticulous about his meals—always precise, adhering to a strict routine. Yet here he was, eating with a childlike lack of care, crumbs scattered around him. It was both heart-wrenching and endearing.

Priya sipped her coffee, lost in thought, when a familiar voice called her name. Startled, she turned to see Aryan standing in the queue, a warm smile spreading across his face.

"Aryan," she greeted, standing up and walking toward him.

Ram's eyes followed her movements, narrowing slightly. He watched the exchange between Priya and Aryan, their easy familiarity, the laughter in their voices. Something inside him stirred—an irritation, sharp and unfamiliar.

Even at a glance, Ram decided he didn't like the man. There was something about the way Aryan stood so close to Priya, the way she smiled at him. Ram's chest tightened, a feeling he couldn't quite name clawing its way to the surface.

"Who is he?" Ram thought, his jaw tightening as he looked away from them, his fingers fiddling with the edge of his napkin. His gaze darted back to the pair, and the feeling grew stronger. A mix of annoyance, confusion, and an unfamiliar protectiveness gnawed at him.

Priya returned to the table a few moments later, her expression light. "That was Aryan," she explained. "He's a colleague."

Ram didn't respond. He simply looked at her, his brows furrowed, his mind swirling with emotions he couldn't untangle. The café had offered a brief escape, but now, it seemed to close in around him again, this time for reasons he didn't yet understand.

The session drew to a close, and Priya walked Ram to the door. He had been unusually quiet after their visit to the café, his demeanor subdued. Mrs. Mehra was waiting outside, ready to escort him back. Just as Priya was about to turn away, Ram hesitated at the threshold.

"Ram? Is there something you need?" Priya asked gently, tilting her head in curiosity.

He didn't meet her gaze at first, shifting awkwardly on his feet. Then, almost abruptly, he turned back to her, his expression unreadable. "Don't talk to that man you met at the café," he said. His voice was calm but carried an undercurrent of something deeper, something unspoken.

Priya blinked, taken aback. "What?" she asked, her brows furrowing in confusion.

"I said, don't meet with that man," Ram repeated, his tone firmer this time. "I didn't like it."

Before Priya could respond, his expression softened again, and he added, almost as an afterthought, "And thank you for the recorder. I'll... I'll start recording soon." He offered her a small, fleeting smile—a smile that felt both genuine and distant—and then turned to leave.

Priya stood frozen for a moment, staring at the now-closed door. Her mind raced. What had just happened? The Ram she had known had always been possessive in his own subtle ways, but this was different.

Why did he care about Aryan? Did he even realize what he had said? Priya sighed and sat down, pressing her palms to her temples. The day had been emotionally exhausting, and now, this cryptic encounter with Ram added a new layer of complexity to her already tangled thoughts.

She tried to brush it off, telling herself it was just a passing remark, a stray fragment of the man Ram once was. Yet, deep down, something about his words lingered, settling in her chest like an unresolved chord. For reasons she couldn't quite explain, they left her both unsettled and... haunted.

The night was heavy with silence, interrupted only by the occasional rustle of leaves outside Ram's window. He lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind refusing to quiet down. The dim light of the bedside lamp illuminated the room, casting long shadows on the walls. A book lay open beside him, untouched. No matter how much he tried to lose himself in the pages, his thoughts kept pulling him elsewhere.

Something was bothering him, a sensation unfamiliar and unsettling. Frustrated, he sat up and glanced at his bag. His gaze landed on the small video recorder Priya had gifted him earlier that day. He hesitated for a moment, then reached for it.

Switching it on, he pressed the record button. The tiny red light blinked to life, and he propped the camera on the bedside table, positioning it to face him.

He looked into the lens, his expression hesitant at first, as if unsure how to begin. Then he spoke, his voice steady but carrying a hint of vulnerability.

"Hi... my name is Ram Kapoor," he started, the words feeling strange as they left his lips. "Today, this is my first recording. My doctor—Dr. Priya—gave me this recorder. She said I should use it to capture moments that feel important or worth remembering."

He paused, running a hand through his hair, his brows furrowing slightly. "Today... something strange happened. I don't know how to explain it."

Ram's eyes shifted downward for a moment, searching for the right words. "Lately, I've been feeling... good when I'm around Dr. Priya. She brings this sense of relief, of calm, to my life. But today..." He hesitated, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. "Today, it felt different.

"I felt something... unusual. When she was talking to that man in the café, I was irritated. Annoyed. But I don't know why. I've never felt this way before—never about anyone. It's like this strange knot inside me, and I can't figure out what it means or why it's there."

He leaned back slightly, his gaze distant. "But I felt something new today, something I've never experienced before. I think I should remember this moment, even if I don't understand it yet."

Ram fell silent for a moment, staring into the lens as if the camera could somehow offer answers to the questions swirling in his mind. Then he gave a faint, almost rueful smile. "I hope one day I'll know what all of this means."

With that, he reached over and stopped the recording. The red light blinked off, leaving the room in its previous stillness. Ram placed the recorder back in his bag and lay down again, his thoughts still a tangled web.

Even as sleep eluded him, a strange warmth lingered in his chest—a flicker of something new, fragile, and deeply human.

Priya lay on her bed, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting golden shadows across the walls. She pulled the blanket up to her chin, hoping its warmth would bring some comfort, but her mind was restless, swirling with unanswered questions. Ram’s behavior had changed—abruptly, inexplicably. The playful ease that once marked their conversations had been replaced by something else, something heavier, more intense.

She replayed the moment in her head, the way his eyes darkened, his voice edged with something unfamiliar. Was it possessiveness? The thought made her heart race, not in excitement, but in confusion. Ram had always been steady, calm, and composed. Why, then, did he act that way today?

Priya tried to shake the feeling, tried to convince herself that she was overthinking, but a nagging voice in her mind wouldn’t let go. Was there more to his sudden change? Was he guarding something, or perhaps someone? The questions pressed against her, as relentless as the night.

She turned onto her side, staring at the ceiling, the soft hum of the fan doing little to drown out her thoughts.