The whole drive, Esha was eerily quiet. She had only spoken two words when giving her name to the realtor to introduce herself. All while the property was shown to them, she was quiet. During the morning drive to the location, Nikhil assumed it was early in the morning and she may not be a morning person so she didn't want to talk. While at the property, he assumed she was just taking in the place and thinking.

He only started to think something was wrong when he asked where she'd like to get lunch before they drove to the next and last site for the trip.

"Anywhere is fine." She had answered. Anywhere was obviously not fine for her.

Since Panera Bread was close, he drove there since she didn't say anything more after that. Entering the place, she didn't go to join the line. She went to one of the online ordering machines and started picking. Not understanding what was wrong with her, he followed her to the next free machine and placed his order as well, taking a number to place on their table as well as a cup for drink.

She found a place to sit while he went to get a drink from the drink machine. When he returned, she was on her phone.

He sat in silence for a few seconds, looking at her and trying to figure it out. "Are you okay?" He finally caved and asked.

"Not used to so much traveling." She answered, lying a bit. She was tired and exhausted, but that wasn't the real reason she had shut off. He could tell that.

He placed his arms on the table, "Okay, that's a bullshit lie." He called her out on it.

Her eyes snapped up to his, "You don't know me as well as you think to know whether or not that is a lie."

With the look that crossed his face, it was evident he was surprised at her tone. She had snapped at him before. He had heard her snap at others before. But, this was different. This tone was cold and distant.

He cautiously asked, "Did I do something wrong?" still too confused by her behavior.

She spoke sarcastically, "No, ofcourse not. The great Nikhil Khanna can't do anything wrong, can he?" When he opened his mouth to question it, she continued, not giving him a chance. "Just leave me alone, okay? Before I say something I shouldn't."

He didn't want to leave her alone, because obviously something was bothering her, and he wanted her to share. He wanted to know what it was.

Their food came, and Nikhil eyed what she'd ordered. Half a sandwich and a cup of hot chocolate with marshmallows. "Is that all you're eating?" He questioned before he could stop himself.

She didn't answer or even look at him while pulling the plate slightly closer to her end of the table before lifting the sandwich and taking a bite.

Bothered by her silence, he picked up the spoon for the tomato bisque he'd gotten along with his sandwich. He kept on hoping she'd talk to him the rest of the day, but she didn't. He couldn't understand another thing: how a person who talked all the time could go silent for the whole day.

She had occasionally been texting, but it didn't count. She wasn't verbally saying anything, after all.

This was not how he had thought their trip would end. He had hoped to be friendlier to her by the end of the trip. He had hoped it would help him decide when to tell her.

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When they landed in Portland a bit after midnight, and were exiting the airport, he offered. "I'll give you a ride home."

"I'll take a cab." She answered, defying.

He objected, "It's the middle of the night, Esha. I'm not going to let you take a cab at this hour. It's not safe."

She scoffed, "You don't need to worry about my safety. You've done enough. Good night." She started to walk off towards one of the cab parked by the airport exit, but was stopped when his hand went around her elbow.

"Don't be childish, Esha. Listen to someone else for once in your life." He scolded, honestly not understanding what was making her act out like this to not even worry about her own safety. She opened her mouth, ready to fume, when he warned, "Just shut up and walk before I carry you in that car myself."

She put her hand on top of his and tried to peel it off her elbow, but he tightened his grasp. Enraged at his audacity, she gritted a response, "Nikhil Khanna, you do not tell me what to do. You are not my husband."

Involuntarily, his grip loosened around her elbow till he had let go completely.

Husband.

She laughed without humor at the shock on his face. "Yeah. I know. Thanks for telling me about it by the way." Her words, actions, and her face, more specifically her eyes, held anger. The rage was proof for him of her hurt.

She used that shock of his to walk off and call for a cab. Just as she gave him the street address where she wanted the driver to take her, the door opened and he sat in.

"64th and 3rd." Nikhil told the driver when he looked back at the unwelcomed passenger. "Drive."

Esha ordered, "Nikhil, get out."

He didn't listen to her and instead glared at the driver, "Drive."

The driver pulled off the side off the road and managed his way out of the airport. Esha spoke a few colorful words under her breath, crossing her arms across her chest, not pleased by this action of his.

About ten minutes later, she had calmed down just a little to realize they were driving closer to downtown as she looked out. That's when she recalled his words. '64th and 3rd.' She did not live there.

There was only one assumption.

It's where he lived.

She could not believe he had forced the driver to drive to his place. Her arms secured around herself further as she decided no matter what, she was not going to get out of the cab. Once they got there, he could get out, but she wasn't going to. She was going to ask the cabbie to drive her to her place.

She hadn't planned on telling him she knew. But, the way he was being adamant on not letting her take a cab home did not go down well with her.

Once the driver stopped at the side of the road, he opened the door and got out. "Come on. We need to talk."

She made no attempt to move, "I'm not interested in talking."

Nikhil didn't like having to do that, but since she wasn't giving him any other choice, he put his head inside the cab to get her bag as well as the clutch that was on her lap, which he figured had to contain the keys to her apartment.

Her jaw dropped, "Now who is being childish? Give me my stuff back."

He informed her as calmly as he could manage, "I'm going inside, with your stuff. If you want it back, you'll have to come in and get it. If not, you are free to go home. Your choice."

He turned his back to her after paying fare to the driver, closed the car door, and walked inside the building and up the stairs. She watched from the faint light the street light provided to see him get to the third floor, and then disappear behind the second door on the right side of the corridor.

"So, miss, what we do?" The cabbie asked, turning in his seat to look at her. His accent told her he was Hispanic. Uneducated perhaps, and very possible migrated to the United States for work.

She took a second to think. "So what if he took my keys. I can still get in my apartment." She thought of Reba, but then realized she'd gone home for the holidays. Damn it. Esha wanted to yell at her roommate, asking her why she couldn't wait until morning to leave, why she had to leave in the evening, leaving her stranded like this.

"Fine." She then warned the cabbie, "Don't you dare go anywhere. I'll be back in five minutes."

"If you're not?"

"I'll be back!" Her words sound like a promise to him, making the old guy grin at her like he knew some secret.

"Sure, mija." He answered, though he didn't believe her for a second. "For you, I wait ten minutes, and then, I go." He answered with the English he knew, or had picked up over the years. She squinted at him, ready to scold him for doubting her when he tapped his watch. "Tick tock." She grunted, opened the door, and clutching the coat closer to her body, started off towards his apartment.

"Stupid, stupid, people." She muttered on her way, "You don't think I can get my stuff back in five minutes? Just you wait, cabbie. I'll show you."

She started to walk up the stairs.

Inside the car, the cabbie watched her leave and laughed, amused at what he had witnessed between the couple. He knew for a fact the guy wasn't going to let her go in five minutes. The fact that he had taken her stuff was proof enough for the old man. He had seen enough people in his life as a cab driver to know things like these.

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"Nikhil freaking Khanna. You..." Esha called him upon pushing the front door open, and stopped on finding an urn filled with rice at the entrance. Without meaning to, the shock transformed into words. "What the fuck?"

He commented, making her eyes travel from the urn to the man himself, "You shouldn't curse at a wedding ritual."

She tried to walk around it to get inside and give him a piece of her mind, but he didn't let her enter, "Esha..."

She put up her hand to signal 'stop' before going off at him, "Enough, Nikhil. This is stupid. We didn't get married. I may not remember much, but there certainly were no wedding mantras being chanted, no sindoor, no saat phere, and certainly no mangalsutra

(A/N: sindoor = vermillion, signaling a woman is married – applied at the parting in the hair; saat phere = seven sacred rounds around the fire during marriage, considered vows; mangalsutra = nuptial necklace that a husband puts around the wife's neck as one of the wedding rituals, another sign of a married woman).

As she said it, her first time actually saying it out loud 'married', tears spilled down her cheek, despite the fact that she didn't want to. The heavy words and their reality was enough to make it seep in. More so, she hated herself for the time being. She prided herself in not crumbling over her emotions and right now, just saying the word aloud and acknowledging her rendezvous actions from a little over a month ago, her feelings were betraying her rational control over herself.

He forwarded his hand to wipe them off, the gentleness of his thumb taking her by surprise. She attempted to lean away but he cupped her cheek as he spoke, "You're right, but I'm not wrong either. We may have not been married according to Hindu rituals, but the fact of the matter is we did get married."

"Nikh..."

She didn't get far as she sniffed. Damn it, she did not want to cry right now! She hated it when her anger turned into tears.

He continued, "It may have been through Christian rituals, and I don't think it matters whether or not we follow that religion. Christian or Hindu rituals, I consider marriage sacred either way."

"Is that way you didn't tell me?" Her accusing tone returned, "You knew, didn't you? You remembered."

"I did." He didn't deny it, "But I'd seen the way you left. You were very clear about getting it annulled. If I had told you, you would have done just that."

"It still doesn't give you the right to hide it from me!" She exclaimed, alarming him while also believing that the right thing to do would have been to get it annulled. What was wrong about that? She did not believe in binding herself in any relationship for lack of choice because of her drunken actions.

He didn't know if his neighbors were up with his commotion. With the apartments and their thin walls, it was quite possible. She observed a slight panic on his face, for she took a second to take a deep breath and calm herself. Slightly lowering her voice, she continued, "I got in this mess just as much as you did. I had a right to know and decide for myself."

"You had already decided what you wanted, Esha! And like I just told you, I consider marriage sacred. Now, I may not have been ready for it, or looking to get married, but thing is I did get married. To you."

She breathed out, running her hand through her hair, not finding it in her to continue arguing over this. Nikhil was the last person she had expected to be in this situation with. With his words, and the urn still staring up at her, it was clear to her he was serious. She didn't know what the time limit on getting a marriage annulled was, but if it was still an option, she was sure he wasn't going to let that happen.

"Look, how about you come inside? We can think and talk about this." Nikhil suggested, knowing they both needed a moment to calm down and think. Him, to think how to convince her. Her, to think how to make him see her way.

She shook her head, "No... it's – it's late. I don't think I can have this conversation with you right now. Can you just give me back my stuff?"

He refused to let it be either, "I have a feeling you'll run off and never want to talk about this if I let you go right now, so no. That's not going to happen. You're not getting it back until we talk about this."

She looked at him wanting to call him off again for assuming things about her. She was not one to run from confrontations, fearing the end result. But, she held it back knowing the situation was calling for it to be handled maturely, not arguing like children.

She turned her head out to the cab, where her ten minutes would be up any second and the cabbie would drive off, and she was still nowhere near close to getting her stuff back. She looked down at the urn before announcing, "I'm not going to perform this ritual."

He knew she was negotiating, and it was something he was going to have to compromise on. "For now." He moved aside to let her enter. Once she did, he closed the door and nodded her towards the living room.

Any other situation, she would have looked around the place. Right now, she walked straight to the couch and sat. A mission in her mind she was determined on succeeding at. But, little did she know that she had just met her match and Nikhil was not going to make it as easy for her to walk away from this. Others might get frustrated and give in to her stubborn and rebellious nature.

Not Nikhil.

"Anything to drink?"

She shook her head, but he still went in the kitchen and came with a glass of water. He held it out for her, wanting her to drink and calm down a little and reluctantly, she accepted.

He requested, "Give me a sec," and went inside a room that she assumed was his.

A few seconds later, he emerged with a frame in his hand. She couldn't see what picture was in it, but she could definitely tell it was a frame. He took a seat next to her, silently looking at it before taking in a deep breath.

Esha warily took the frame when he forwarded it in her direction. It looked to be a family photo. The couple whom she assumed to be in their mid-twenties were holding a new born in a hospital bed.

For a second, she assumed the baby in the mother's hand was him.

"That's..." He cleared his throat when his voice cracked a bit, for it was his personal story he rarely told anyone. "...my sister."

She turned her head in his direction, judging from his voice that he wanted to say something serious. She didn't know he had a sister, but then again, she didn't know anything personal about him.

"And my mom and dad... I took that photo the first time the doctors allowed us to see her. I was so excited to have a little sister. I was four years old at the time." A faint smile was on his face, as if remembering that memory. It had to be one of his first memories, since children start to formulate memories starting around the age of 3.

"She... she died two days later."

Without meaning to, she inhaled sharply. That news was one she wasn't expecting to be in this story. It saddened her that a child who could be less than a week old met that fate. It wasn't fair.

He continued speaking as if haunted by that memory, "My parents kept asking me to get in with them; they kept trying to convince me that the nurse could take the photo for us, but no. Now... I wish I had listened to them. Then, I'd have atleast one picture with her I could have held on to as memory." He paused for a second, staring at his hands before admitting in a sad voice, "You know, I can't even remember how she looked like."

Esha looked back at the frame to see the baby had been looking at his parents, who were looking back at her with the purest of smile on both of their faces. That itself was alone to tell how happy the parents had been when this particular picture was taken, and in the angle, barely half side of her face could be seen.

He inhaled raggedly, gathering himself. "Um, when she died... after... it was a shock to us all. The doctors had said everything was fine, she was fine, but... she just passed away in her sleep. There was nothing either my mom or dad could have done, but still... My mom... she was depressed after that. Dad barely would say anything either."

Feeling the need to, with her own heart getting heavy, she reached forward to place her hand over his wrist.

"Life went on, but their marriage was taking a toll. I remember so many nights when my maasi would take care of me because my parents were in their own world of pain. I was mildly aware, but sometimes I was selfish and I'd demand they go back to the way they were."

A lone tear dropped on the back of her hand, making him realize he was in tears. As if realizing himself, he used his free hand to wipe his cheeks away. She had never seen a guy in her life cry, and though she knew the weight of what had happened in life should, she didn't know how to react.

"We lost her, but I didn't want to lose them. They must have eventually seen that since one day, little by little, they both started making efforts to talk to me, to let me back in. Things started getting better, not just for me but for them too. They stopped mourning alone. Fortunately, their love for each other was still there. They pulled together... and even today, that old man is still in love with her and he makes her feel that every single day."

He blinked and turned to finally face her, "Because of them, marriage is sacred for me. They have gone through some of the worst that can happen to a couple, and they pulled through. They've showed me at each turn that it is worth everything. It's the things you do for family and those you love. And I'll be damned if I become a hypocrite and let you go, let everything they ever taught me, go in vain."

He turned his wrist around so her hand would slide in his palm, "They... she is why this marriage is important for me... so please... don't make me feel that I have to force you into anything."

It was hard for him, but he was telling her why he was being adamant, why he had hidden from her who he was when he had figured out who she was and remembered, and why the fear that she'd go away was too overwhelming for him.

But, damn it if it was fair to her.

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~ author note ~
Welp. This may be the shittiest place to stop the regular updates. But it also sorta finishes one phase of the story? So no better time? Especially since next weeks are my finals and then week after is graduation.

Thank you for all your support so far and hope to be back soon!

Keep voting and commenting. Would love to know your thoughts on these two!