The quiet of Priya's home offered no solace that night. She lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling, but sleep refused to come. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake the image of Ram's face—lost, vulnerable, and so achingly helpless.

Every time she closed her eyes, his expression resurfaced, piercing through the walls she had so carefully built around her heart. She turned over, clutching the pillow tighter, but the feeling lingered, growing heavier with every passing moment. The Ram she had seen tonight wasn't the man she had once walked away from. He wasn't the one who had hurt her so deeply that she felt there was no path left but to leave. This Ram was different—broken in a way she had never imagined.

For the first time, a flicker of doubt crept into her heart. Had they been too hasty in ending things? Had they allowed their pain and anger to blind them to the possibility of saving their marriage? She thought about Peehu, their daughter, and how the little girl might have been the bridge to mend their fractured relationship. But back then, in the storm of betrayal and heartbreak, Priya couldn't see beyond her own anguish.

Her chest tightened at the memory of those days—how Ram's actions had cut her so deeply that she couldn't imagine staying. She remembered the nights spent crying, the mornings filled with a hollow ache, and the unshakable belief that walking away was her only way to survive. Yet now, seeing him like this, stripped of his once-proud demeanor, she wondered if they had both failed—not just each other but the family they could have been.

Priya sat up, running a hand through her hair, her heart heavy with regret and confusion. The silence of the night seemed to mock her, amplifying the weight of her thoughts. Could things have been different if they had just tried harder? If they had looked past their pain and anger? She didn't have the answers, but the questions haunted her, circling in her mind like a ghost she couldn't escape.

the city outside lay shrouded in quiet slumber, Priya sat by her window, her thoughts far from peaceful. The dim light from the bedside lamp cast a soft glow around her, but nothing could soften the ache in her heart. Ram's lost, fragile face lingered in her mind, and she clenched her fists, as though trying to hold onto something—anything—that would keep her from breaking too.

For years, Priya had lived her life with conviction, determined to keep herself and her daughter away from the shadows of the past. But seeing Ram in this state—stripped of the confidence, the arrogance, and the vitality that once defined him—made her chest tighten with a pain she couldn't ignore. This wasn't the man she had left behind, the one who had caused her so much pain that she thought she'd never be able to forgive him. This was a man undone, his spirit scattered, his identity slipping through his fingers like grains of sand.

She leaned her head against the cool glass, her resolve solidifying with every passing second. She couldn't just stand by and watch him fade away like this. No matter how far apart their lives had grown, no matter the walls she had built around her heart, she couldn't bear to see him so broken. He deserved a chance to reclaim himself, even if that meant revisiting a past that had hurt them both.

The thought filled her with unease. Helping Ram regain his memory meant walking a precarious path, one where old wounds could reopen, where feelings she had buried long ago might resurface. But Priya pushed those fears aside. This wasn't about her—not anymore.

Even if she couldn't get back together with him, even if their fractured relationship could never be repaired, she wouldn't abandon him now. She wouldn't let him remain a ghost of the man he used to be.

"I'll do it," she whispered to herself, the words almost trembling as they left her lips. "I'll help him remember."

Her decision carried a weight, but it also brought clarity. She couldn't predict how things would unfold, but she knew she couldn't turn her back on him, not like this. Watching Ram in this fragile, fractured state broke her in ways she hadn't anticipated, and the only way to ease that ache was to help him find himself again—even if it meant putting herself at risk of feeling everything she'd worked so hard to forget.

With that, Priya stood and drew the curtains shut, shutting out the night. Tomorrow would bring its own battles, but tonight, she let herself embrace the resolve that had taken root in her heart. For Ram's sake—and maybe even for her own—she would fight to bring him back.

The morning sun poured through the windows of Priya's office, illuminating the room with a soft golden glow. Priya sat at her desk, her fingers nervously tapping against the surface as she glanced toward the clock. Today felt different—there was an eagerness in her chest, a restless energy she couldn't shake. She had spent the night turning her decision over and over in her mind, and now, she was waiting to see Ram again.

When the door finally opened, Priya's gaze shot up. Standing there, hesitant and unsure, was Ram. His shoulders were slightly hunched, his eyes fixed on the floor as though he was unsure if he was even allowed to be there. Behind him stood Mrs. Mehra, her reassuring hand lightly resting on his arm.

"Dr. Priya," Mrs. Mehra began gently, "Ram wanted to see you. He... he wants to apologize for last night."

Ram shifted awkwardly, and Priya's eyes dropped to the bouquet of flowers clutched in his hands. They were a mix of bright yellow daisies and soft pink carnations, their cheerful colors almost incongruous with the nervous man holding them.

As Priya stood and walked toward him, she couldn't help but chuckle softly. "Are these for me, Ram?" she asked, her voice light.

Ram glanced up at her then, his expression a mixture of guilt and sincerity. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, his voice carrying the weight of his emotions. "I... I can't recall everything clearly, but I know I caused trouble. For you. For Mrs. Mehra. I didn't mean to..." His words trailed off, and he looked back down at the bouquet, as though searching for the courage to meet her gaze again.

Priya took the flowers from his hands, her smile softening as she placed them on the table beside her. "Never mind," she said gently. "Sometimes these things happen. You've recently shifted to this place, and it's a lot for your mind to process right now. It's normal to feel unsettled."

Ram's eyes flickered to hers, a glimmer of hope breaking through his uncertainty. "But it won't always be like this, right?" he asked, his voice almost childlike in its vulnerability.

"No," Priya said firmly, her tone filled with quiet conviction. "As soon as you regain your memories, you'll feel more like yourself again. Everything will start making sense, and nothing will bother you anymore."

For a moment, they stood there, the air between them heavy with unspoken emotions. Priya could see the flickers of doubt and fear in his eyes, but she also saw something else—a fragile trust, a faint glimmer of belief in her words.

Mrs. Mehra, sensing the moment, stepped forward with a gentle smile. "Well, Ram, shall we sit down for your session now?"

Ram nodded slowly, his posture relaxing slightly as Priya gestured toward the chair opposite her desk. He moved to take his seat, and Priya followed, her mind already racing with plans for how she could help him.

As she sat down and opened her notebook, she caught Ram stealing a glance at her. There was something almost boyish about the way he looked at her, as though he was seeing her in a new light.

The session had barely started when Priya suddenly paused, her eyes drifting toward the window. The sunlight spilled through the glass, casting a golden hue over the clinic, while a gentle breeze rustled the leaves outside. It was one of those rare, perfect mornings that beckoned to be enjoyed.

Priya turned to Ram, who sat across from her, his gaze distant yet curious. "Ram," she said softly, "shall we go somewhere outside? I feel a little suffocated here today, and look—the weather is beautiful."

Ram blinked, startled by the suggestion. "Outside? You mean, we're leaving the clinic?"

She nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Yes. A change of scenery might do us both some good."

Without another word, she stood up, and Ram followed hesitantly. As they stepped into the hallway, Mrs. Mehra, who had been waiting nearby, looked up in surprise. "You're done already?" she asked, her brows knitting in concern.

Priya shook her head. "Not done, just moving the session outside. I think some fresh air will help Ram more than staying cooped up indoors today."

Mrs. Mehra seemed taken aback for a moment but then smiled. "That's so thoughtful of you, Dr. Priya. I'll head home, then. Just take care of him."

"I will," Priya assured her. "I'll drop him off after we're done."

Mrs. Mehra hesitated, her maternal instinct evident in her glance toward Ram, but she eventually nodded and left.

As Priya and Ram stepped out onto the bustling street, a cool breeze brushed past them, carrying the faint scent of blooming flowers and freshly baked bread from a nearby café. Ram seemed a bit unsure, his hands fidgeting at his sides, but Priya gave him an encouraging smile.

"Where are we going?" Ram asked, his tone tentative.

"Nowhere specific," Priya replied. "We'll just walk. Sometimes, that's all you need to clear your mind."

For the first time, Ram seemed to relax, his steps falling into rhythm beside hers as they began their stroll. Priya glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, wondering if this simple walk might unlock some of the memories buried deep within him—or at least bring a hint of light to the shadows that seemed to haunt him.

4o