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बहकी बहकी बातों में तेरी
धीरे धीरे आने लगी
जुगनू ने मुझसे कहा ऐसा है ये तेरा पिया
ले ही जाएगा तेरा जिया

हां प्यारी प्यारी बातों पे तेरी
चाँदनी भी हँसने लगी
तारे मुस्कुराने लगे
हवा गुनगुनाने लगी
आसमां भी झूम उठा

कैसे कहूँ का से कहूँ
हाये राम राम राम राम राम
पगला इतना ना जाने
ना जाने ना जाने ना जाने जाने जाने हाय
ईश
ईश
_____________________________

________________________________

19 August 1990

I did this. I wasn't planning to but it was necessary. How can Abhijeet say he will divorce Zeenat for her to marry that loser for her happiness? Abhijeet was my golden hen. If he will divorce Zeenat, the partnership will break, which will cost me my whole career. Zeenat's happiness wasn't as important as my career.

I know the effect of that drug. Abhijeet will not be in his senses. The grief of knowing the woman he loved for more than 10 years loves someone else & wants to separate will add to it. I know what he did in the influence of that drug. And I wasn't guilty. I wasn't guilty of doing this.

And if Zeenat gets pregnant after that it will be the best thing. A child in between them will act as an obstacle. I know Abhijeet's father will not let him divorce Zeenat then and the partnership will remain forever. It was a win - win situation for me. Zeenat might never forgive Abhijeet for doing this, but who cares about her feelings? Women are made to satisfy men's hunger. No matter if it's money like me or Control & Need of her like Abhijeet after tonight.

I know if Zeenat or Abhijeet will get to know this. He will kill me. He & Zeenat both will not think twice before ending my life but I will never let that happen.

The truth will go with me.

- Akash

And I closed the diary.

The rough leather brushed against my palm as the covers met, soft in weight but heavy in the silence it left behind. That small book had travelled all the way till here - carrying nothing but a man's greed and the destruction born out of it. It almost felt alive for a moment, like it was still hungry to take something else away from me. I stared at it for a while... the same page Akash had written on.

A selfish need.

That was how everything started. One selfish need... and it ruined a father for his son, a mother for her son, a husband for his wife, and even a wife for her husband. So many lives. So many nights. Destroyed, only because someone thought his greed was more important than somebody's soul.

My fingers loosened around the diary. I didn't say a word. I simply stepped forward and threw it in the air & It dropped deeper into the running water.

Water splashed softly before swallowing it whole. I watched silently as the diary floated, slowly drifting away, farther and farther. The wind touched my face, cold... but peaceful. It felt like the river was taking everything with it. Every ugly truth, every buried guilt, every unanswered question. I didn't feel the weight anymore. I closed my eyes & took a deep breath, for the first time in years, I felt like something was leaving me instead of eating me from inside.

I stayed still. One hand resting inside my pocket, the other falling by my side - quietly breathing in the sound of flowing water.

And then... I felt another hand.

Soft. Warm. Fingers suddenly slipped into mine from behind, gently intertwining like they had always belonged there. I didn't need to turn.

I knew that touch better than I knew my own heartbeat.
My Noor.

She didn't say a word. She stood beside me, letting her other hand slide up to my bicep and holding it softly... her forehead resting against my shoulder just like a tired bird resting its wings. We stood there together - two people and one silence - letting the river carry away everything that hurt us. It had been a few days since Zeenat died... a few days since all of this ended. Yet some part of it still lived quietly inside our bodies. This morning as that diary disappeared, it felt like even that little part was finally ready to go. It was a new morning, a new beginning.

I turned slowly - my eyes still following the last ripple of water until it disappeared behind a bend - and then I lowered my gaze to her.

Noor was already looking up at me.

Her head lifted from my shoulder, eyes glittering with a quiet kind of warmth that travelled straight to my chest. Everything inside me stirred at once. I straightened myself, not taking my eyes off her for even one second.

I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her closer - burying my face in the curve of her neck. Her scent... sandalwood and jasmine. It rushed into my lungs and settled there like a soft fire, calming every nerve, every tired muscle inside my body. My chest relaxed for the first time since days. I breathed again. Longer... deeper.

"Chale ghar?" I whispered softly against her skin.

(Let's go home?)

She hugged me back, her small hands tightening around my arms. I felt her lips press a soft kiss near my ear. "Ghar hi to hai..." she breathed out like a secret.

(This is home.)

And in that moment, my heart skipped a beat & a small smile came to my lips. I closed my eyes.
She was, is & will be my home.

.

.

.

.

.

The road was silent at this hour, washed clean after the last night rain, glinting softly beneath the headlights. My hand stayed steady on the wheel. The other rested on Noor's lap, fingers interlaced with hers in a hold that had already become a part of my body. The gentle weight of her palm, the way her thumb moved over my skin every few seconds, was more grounding than any words could ever been.

We were close now.

The Rajwardhan Mansion is near now - the place where those happy moments stay. For a long time I had stayed away from it. I chose to chase ghosts of my past. But this morning ... the past had already burned. This morning I was driving back to the one place I could finally breathe.

To the only people I wanted to call family.

The road curved gently. I turned the car without breaking our hold, gaze flicking between the street and the faint outline of her profile beside me. There was a quietness in the car that breathed - soft, steady - wrapping itself around both of us.

"Siddharth ji?

Her voice came out just above a whisper but it reached straight to my pulse. I looked at her once before turning my eyes back to the road.

"Hmm?"

She didn't speak immediately. I felt her fingers shift in mine - a small movement - before her voice returned.

"What happened to Akash Nigam?"

I could feel her eyes on me. For a moment I kept my gaze forward, letting the engine hum in the silence. Then I turned my head again. Her brows were drawn together, the question sitting openly on her face. She wanted to know. I could see it in the way her eyes held mine for a heartbeat longer than usual.

"He killed himself," I answered, keeping my voice even. "After finding out Zeenat was dead."

I didn't add anything else.

Her frown eased. She looked out of the window and gave a quiet nod, the corner of her mouth softening in a way that told me she was... satisfied.

I kept my hand over hers and faced the road again

There was no need to tell her the truth. I wasn't going to let her know about the brutality I committed.

She didn't need to know that there was someone in the car when it blasted.- it was Akash. Zeenat thought Noor had died that day but she had killed her own brother. The man who destroyed everything ended up dying by the same hands he ruined the most. Some truths didn't deserve to live.

My fingers tightened around the steering wheel, the leather pressing into my palm. A faint clench settled in my jaw as I remembered.

The mansion wall finally appeared at the end of the road - still, tall, waiting.

Noor's hand stayed in mine.

And for the first time in years there was nothing keeping me apart.

.

.

.

.

.

Siddharth ji opened the door and stretched out his hand toward me.

I smiled & placed my hand in his, and the way his large fingers closed around mine made everything inside me settle. He didn't say anything. He only helped me out of the car, as he always did. One soft, steady touch... and I felt safe again.

I stepped in front of the Rajwardhan Mansion after weeks. Weeks of staying away. Last time we were here everything was heavy, silent, almost lifeless.

But this morning, there was wind. Birds fluttered near the small fountain in the courtyard. A few birds were were walking lazily on the grass, making soft little noises that made the garden feel alive again. My eyes shifted toward the tulip garden - the one Siddharth ji made for me with his own hands.

There were no flowers yet... but the plants were still standing there, fresh and healthy. Beautiful - only because I could see his effort in every small leaf.

When I looked up, Siddharth ji was already staring at it.

That made me smile even more. I tightened my grip on his hand and we started walking inside.

As soon as we crossed the main doors, the scent of maa's food reached me. The dining area was filled - Veer bhaiya, Adarsh, Maa, Dadi... everyone was sitting together.

But my eyes stopped on professor Dheer

Ever since everything happened, we hadn't really spoken much. Very little... almost nothing. It wasn't because we didn't want to - it was just difficult. He had been kept away from his own family for twenty eight years... for a selfish reason none of us even created. It was natural for him to feel hesitant.

But today, when I looked at him, I could see something else beneath that hesitation. Happiness. It was small, shy... but very real. He sat there as all of them talked to him, laughed with him - and there was a faint shine in his eyes, as if this was something he had wanted for a long time.

We entered and everyone's eyes turned toward us.

Professor Dheer's gaze went to Aarth first.

There was a quiet smile on his face - small but genuine. Not out of awkwardness,out of comfort. It felt like there were so many things unsaid between the two of them. Words they wanted to speak for so long. And even though none of those words were being said, I could feel they were trying. They were both trying. That was enough. Bonds didn't grow in one day. They take time, patience, courage... and I knew both of them had all of it.

I glanced up at Siddharth ji. Even without words I could understand him - the way his eyes briefly softened when he looked at him, the slight curve of his lips... that was enough to tell me that he had accepted him. Maybe slowly. Maybe silently. But he had.

We walked toward the dining table.

"Lo, ab Siddharth betwa bhi aa gaya," Dadi said happily.
(See, Siddharth is home too)

Adarsh grinned, his voice loud and cheerful. "Bahut sahi time pe aaye hain bhai aap. Maa ne mast chole-kulche banaye hain. Aur Dheer bhai bhi yahi hai. Bol rahi thi Siddharth beta aayega tabhi khayenge."

(You came at the perfect time, brother. Maa made amazing chole-kulche. And Dheer bhai is here too. She said we will eat only when Siddharth comes.)

I couldn't stop the big smirk that appeared on my face. I didn't turn, but I already knew Siddharth ji must have shaken his head at Adarsh's excitement - he always did.

Adarsh quickly pulled out the head chair and patted it with so much enthusiasm that all of us felt it.

I heard a soft chuckle escape from Siddharth ji. It was low... short... but I heard it clearly - and my heart warmed immediately.

He walked forward and, as always, the very first thing he did was pull my chair - the one beside his. He gently placed his hand on my back and guided me to sit.

A soft blush rose on my cheeks - I could feel everyone watching - and I lowered my eyes with a small smile while I sat down.

He didn't react. His face stayed calm and natural.

Then he went to his own chair and sat beside me.

"Beta, tu chai peeyega? Noor, tum kya logi?" Maa asked.
(Son? Will you take tea? Or Noor what will you take?)

Before I could answer, Siddharth ji quietly stood up again. He gently held Maa's arm and made her sit back down on her chair.

"Kuch nahi Maa... aap bas saath baith ke nashta karo."

(Nothing Maa... just sit here and eat with us.)

Maa frowned a little - I knew she wanted to serve his favourite food herself. Their bond was so soft and innocent. Watching them made me smile.

He came back and sat.

The very first thing he did was turn my plate to face me properly. Then he served me first - two spoons more than usual, like he always did.

I watched him put the dishes back and then lift his own plate in the air, extending it toward me - silently asking me to serve him, in our usual way.

I could feel everyone's eyes on us - Veer bhaiya, professor Dheer, Adarsh, Maa, Dadi.

Their teasing smiles were already there.

Without looking at them, I picked up the spoon and began serving his plate - 2 spoon extra of everything- and kept my eyes only on the food in front of me.

Noor could feel Siddharth eyes on her as she served a little extra of everything on his plate. She didn't look up. She never looked up in moments like these.

She set her hands in her lap for a second and then begin eating.
The first bite made her close her eyes for a very small moment - maa's food always tasted like peace. When she opened them again, her eyes naturally moved to Siddharth. He was eating in silence, his posture straight and calm as always... but she could still feel his attention resting on her in between. It made her cheeks grow warm and she quickly looked back to her plate.

"Waah bhabhi, saara pyaar bhai ke liye hi hai?"
(Whoa bhabhi, all the love is only for brother, huh?)

Adarsh's teasing voice made her blink and turn her head immediately towards him. His plate had only a little bit of chole on it - no kulcha, no puri - and he was making the most dramatic pout she had ever seen. Noor almost laughed out loud at that but she pressed her lips together, shaking her head softly. She reached for the basket of kulchas-but a hand held hers before she could take it.

"Do kya pyaar main tumko, Adarsh?"
(Should I give you that love, Adarsh?)

Siddharth voice was completely challenging,There was no smile, just raised brow... the words themselves carried a very quiet warning behind them. Noor turned her head to look at him instinctively - a little startled - and saw that he hadn't even glanced at her. He was still staring straight at Adarsh while lifting the basket and placing it right in front of him.

Adarsh's eyes widened immediately. "K-kya bhai... main toh mazaak kar raha tha!"
(What, brother... I was just joking!)

Noor couldn't hold it anymore - she shook her head and bit back a smile. Her husband and her devar were no less than children sometimes. She watched as Adarsh hurriedly took two kulchas and started eating in complete silence, while everyone around the table laughed and teased him.

She stole a quick glance toward Siddharth, He had already gone back to eating... though his eyes still looked sharper than before. He could be so grumpy and soft in the same second. It was impossible not to smile at that.

Just as she picked up another bite again, someone cleared their throat softly.

"B-bhabhi... college jaana hai kya aapko?"
(B-bhabhi... do you have to go to college today?)

Noor stopped.
It was Dheer.

That was only the second time he had called her bhabhi. The word left his lips very gently - almost carefully - and there was a lot hidden inside it. She lifted her eyes toward him and saw everything at once. A little hesitation. A little nervousness. A small desperation to belong. To be accepted. To fit into a family that should have always been his.

Her heart squeezed painfully.

She turned her eyes toward Siddharth.
His hand, which had been resting on the table, had suddenly gone stiff - his fingers were pressed slightly into the wood. He wasn't looking at anyone. His gaze was down... but his stillness told her more than any expression could.

She slowly placed her palm over his hand - right there on the table - not caring about the eyes that might be watching.

"No bhaiya... aaj seminar tha koi. Toh ab weekend ke baad."
(No brother... there was some seminar today. Now it will be after the weekend.)

She spoke softly, with a smile meant entirely to comfort.

Dheer looked at her - then, for a second, at Siddharth- whose eyes were still lowered but no longer distant. There was something soft in them again. As if he had heard more than what was spoken.

Dheer nodded once, a small shine appearing in his eyes.
"Thik hai... main Samiksha ko call kar deta hoon. She will lend you her notes of the day you missed."

(Okay... I'll call Samiksha. She'll lend you her notes for the day you missed.)

Noor's spoon paused in the air.

Samiksha...
Her classmate.

She didn't say anything - but her eyes shifted toward Dheer very slowly. Samiksha, hmm? That was a different kind of 'notes sharing.' He didn't look like the same emotionless man who once stood at the gates with a gun. He looked more like a shy boy who had just accidentally confessed something in front of everyone.

Before she could even open her mouth, Adarsh spoke with narrowed eyes.
"Ek minute. Samiksha toh bhabhi ki classmate hai. Bhai, aapke paas uska number kya kar raha?"

(One minute. Samiksha is bhabhi's classmate. Brother, why do you have her number?)

All eyes immediately turned to Dheer.

He choked lightly on his food and sat still for a second before quietly standing up with his napkin.

"M-mujhe college ke liye late ho raha hai."
(I...I'm getting late for college.)

He walked off before anyone could question him further and the whole table burst into laughter. Everyone - Maa, Dadi, Veer - kept laughing and shaking their heads while Adarsh just sat there in shock, eyes wide as though the earth had shifted beneath him.

"Matlab yaha sab ki setting hai mujhe chhod ke?" he muttered in disbelief.

(So everyone here has someone... except me?)

More laughter. Even Noor couldn't stop herself from smiling brightly. She turned her head just a little and saw Siddharth. He wasn't laughing out loud - but the soft curve of his lips and the calm brightness in his eyes told everything. He was watching his family. Their bond. Their teasing. Their laughter.

"Soch tu kitna gadha hai." Veer said, rolling his eyes.
(Just think how big of a fool you are.)

Adarsh narrowed his eyes, determination rising on his face. "Veer bhai, aaj hi ex ko reply back dunga. Phir dekhte hain."

(Okay then, I'll reply to my ex today itself. Then we'll see.)

"De tu de," Veer replied sharply. "Phir 206 se 205 haddiya hi rahengi tere paas."
(Go ahead and reply. Then you'll have only 205 bones left instead of 206.)

"Haan toh darta hoon kya aapse?" Adarsh replied back.

(So? As if I'm scared of you?)

The whole table erupted again.

Noor leaned back against her chair, spoon still in her hand but heart completely full. For the first time after so many dark days, the house sounded alive. Warm. Lively. Just the way she always dreamed. Some families are related by blood. Others are tied together by moments, memories, prayers, and silent promises.
And this... this was exactly what a real family felt like.

Siddharth rested back in his chair, arms folded loosely as he silently watched his brothers arguing over who had a worse love life. For the first time in days, their voices didn't feel heavy in his head. It didn't irritate him. In fact, the small banter actually curved his lips into a quiet smile. His gaze shifted - first to his Maa - her eyes were shining as she looked at her sons laughing together, and that sight alone made something warm spread in his chest.

Then his eyes moved to Noor.

She was sitting peacefully, eating her food, soft eyes quietly admiring the way the family was living again. There was no tension on her face. No worry. Just a soft, relaxed peace - and after days Siddharth told his eyes to stop observing and start feeling.

To stop keeping account of the past and simply stay in this moment.

Dadi got up first shooking her head at them, Aditi ji followed, taking her plate with her and walking toward the other room - leaving only Siddharth, Noor, Adarsh and Veer at the table.

Siddharth shook his head lightly at the two brothers, who were still arguing about exes and broken bones. Enough for today. He had let them speak enough nonsense. His eyes then dropped to Noor's plate - she had finished eating. Without a word, he reached across the table and picked up her empty plate along with his.

Noor lifted her head, surprised, when he suddenly got up - but what caught her attention was that he took her plate along with his. He walked toward the kitchen. She give a small knowing smile, then quickly stood up as well, slowly following him. The tiny sound of her payal- chan-chan - echoed softly in the corridor.

Inside the kitchen, Siddharth had already kept both plates in the sink and turned on the tap. The sound of water filled the silence.

Noor stopped at the doorway for a second, watching him. His sleeves were folded up, veins visible in his forearm as he washed the plates with slow, steady movements. She shook her head softly and walked toward him.

"Hatiye... kapde gande ho jaayenge aapke."

(Move... your clothes will get dirty.)

She reached out to take the plate from his hand. Before her fingers could touch it, Siddharth lifted it up - completely out of her reach - and kept washing with the same calm expression. She frowned up at him, eyes narrowed in a small scold. He didn't look at her. A small smile appeared on his lips as he continued washing.

She tried again - stepping closer, hands stretching up to take the plate - and that's when he suddenly leaned down a little and pressed a small kiss on the bridge of her nose.

"Aapke haath toh gande nahi honge na. kaafi hai."

(Your hands won't get dirty... that's enough.)

She stopped & He pulled back and went back to washing like nothing happened, while Noor just stood there - cheeks turning red, lashes lifting once to look at him before dropping again. Her heart thudded hard in her chest as she glanced quickly toward the kitchen door, afraid someone might have seen that.

She looked back at him with pink cheeks and whispered, "K-koi aa jaata toh?"

(What if someone came?)

"Aa jaata toh?" he repeated calmly, still washing the second plate.
(So?)

Noor frowned more, lowering her voice but speaking with full seriousness, "Bahot bhole ban rahe hain aap. Koi aata toh yehi kehta ki dekho doctor sahab poore joru ke gulaam ban gaye hain, hosh hi nahi hai kya kaha kar rahe hai."

(You're pretending to be very innocent. If someone came, they would say, 'Look, doctor sahib has become a complete slave to his wife, he doesn't even realize when what he is doing.)

Siddharth wiped the plates, that teasing smile appearing on his face again - the one that always made her heart misbehave.

"Itni pyaari joru ho toh bande ko gulaam hone ka bhi gamand rehta hai "

(When the wife is this lovely... even being her slave makes him proud.)

He winked.

Noor's eyes widened and she immediately looked away, a small shy smile breaking on her lips. He put the plates aside and walked toward her. Noor, still blushing, tried not to look at him - thinking he would just pass by even though knowing he wouldn't-she stayed where she was, Siddharth who stopped near her,slowly wrapped his arm around her bare waist and pulled her close.

Her soft gasp escaped into his chest, both of her hands landing firmly against him. Their bodies pressed together - her saree shifting slightly at her waist under his touch. Her heartbeat went wild.

"Aur rahi baat bhola banne ki..." he leaned closer, voice low and firm, "...bhola toh main tha. Apne Bigar diya"

(And about acting innocent... I was innocent. Until you came)

Noor froze. Eyes lifting up to him for a second before immediately darting toward the kitchen door in panic. What if someone walked in like this? Her cheeks burned.

"K... kya kar rahe hain... peeche hattiye, bare aaye aaye bhole admi " she whispered sharply. "Koi aa jaayega... kamre mein nahi hain aap apne," saying she paused & narrowed her eyes at him "dar to waise bhi nahi lagta juth bolte waqt bhi"

(What are you doing... move back, so called innocent man. Someone will come... you are not in your room,)

Instead of moving back, Siddharth tightened his hold even more, pulling her against him until her chest brushed his with a soft thud. Noor's breath hitched. She tried pressing her hands against his chest to push him, but her strength slipped away the moment she looked into his eyes.

"Toh chaliye kamre mein... wahin pakad lunga aapko."

(Then let's go to the room... I'll hold you there.)

Her eyes went wide, a small shocked sound leaving her throat. Siddharth chuckled at her expression - dark eyelashes lowering as he watched her entire face turn red. Noor slapped her palm gently against his chest in frustration.

"Hey Bhagwan... ekdum bawale hain aap, Aarth."

(Oh God... you are completely crazy, Siddharth ji.)

She looked up at him in full shyness, cheeks completely flushed. He opened his mouth - and she instantly knew from the glint in his eyes that he was about to say something worse, something that would make her blush even more. On impulse, she covered his mouth with her palm.

"Kuch nahi. Bilkul ek aur shabd bola na... toh hum raat ko Maa ke saath sone chale jaayenge."

(Nothing. If you say one more word... I'll go and sleep with Maa tonight.)

Siddharth's eyes widened instantly. The teasing smirk disappeared. Noor knew her threat had stabbed the exact place it should. For a moment, he remained perfectly still. Then the teasing spark returned in his eyes again - as if he had found a new sentence to tease her with. Noor pressed her palm even harder over his mouth with a warning glare, the other hand pushing against his fingers at her waist.

She glanced shakily toward the door just to check-

"Bahu...?"
(Daughter-in-law...?)

It was Maa.

Noor froze. Her eyes shot up to Siddharth immediately - no longer angry, but pleading. He understood. He released her waist. Noor quickly stepped back, taking three small hurried steps away from him, eyes lowered and breath struggling to calm.

Just when she reached the doorway, she heard his voice behind her - low and shameless:

"Iska jawaab raat ko room mein dunga, Noor ji..."

(I'll give the answer to this tonight in the room, Noor ji...)

She stopped and turned back in disbelief. Her cheeks were burning with both anger and embarrassment.

"Bawale... besharam!"
(Crazy... shameless!)

She hissed it under her breath and walked away quickly.

Siddharth stayed in the kitchen - and for the first
ime since days, a real laugh escaped his chest as he watched his shy, furious wife disappear down the corridor.
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.
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.
.

I sat quietly on the edge of the bed, my sarees already folded in a neat pile beside me. One by one I picked up Siddharth ji's shirts and started folding them too, pressing my fingers gently over the soft cotton to smooth out every crease. A white shirt came in my hands - the one he wears the most. The moment I touched it, a small smile appeared on my lips.

I held it for another second - pressing the fabric as if I could still feel his warmth in it - and then slowly folded it. He had gone to the hospital today. Aryan's discharge day. After everything that happened... after all those sleepless nights and endless stress, today he was finally going to take that little boy in his arms and say that he was perfectly fine. I still remember the way Siddharth ji spoke about him, how he would hold the medical reports like they were something precious and tell me about every small progress in Aryan's treatment. It wasn't just a surgery for him - it was a responsibility... a promise.

And when Zeenat tried turning that same promise into his biggest failure...

For a moment the whole world had turned against him.

But today... the same media that blamed him, praised him. The same people who questioned his dedication were now calling him one of the best cardiologists in the country. Rajvardhan Hospital was being called one of the safest hospitals. Only because he never gave up. Only because his intentions were pure.

I remembered papa telling me "jab niyat saaf ho, kaam kabhi asaan ya mushkil nahi hota... bas sahi hota hai."

(When the intention is pure, the work may not become easy or hard... but it always becomes right.)

And today... that came true.

My heart filled with a warm, grateful happiness. I could almost feel the way his voice sounded when he called me this morning, full of excitement and relief. "Noor... he talked on his own." The way he said it... he sounded happier than I had heard him in days.

I finished folding the shirt and placed it neatly on top of the pile. The clock on the wall showed 7:00 pm. Dinner was already made. I was just waiting for him to come home so we could eat together.

I picked up all the folded clothes, stood up and walked toward the cupboard. After placing them carefully on the shelf, I adjusted my saree and was about to close the door when my eyes fell on it - a light pink silk saree, wrapped neatly in a plastic cover.

I paused.

Slowly I raised my hand and touched the fabric. It felt soft... almost feather-light under my fingertips. A small laugh escaped from me as I remembered the day bhabhi had given it to me. "Doctor sahab ki toh nazrein hi nahi hatengi."

(Doctor sahib won't be able to take his eyes off you.)

She had said that while laughing and I had blushed so much that I hid my face in my hands.

I had never worn the saree. There was never a right moment. Too many things were happening one after another.

But tonight... maybe.

My heart fluttered at the thought. I gently pulled the saree out and held it in both hands. The soft silk slipped over my fingers. I imagined how he would look at me if I wore it. The way his eyes would travel from my forehead to my lips in complete silence, that tiny pause in his breathing, and the way his Adam's apple moved - as if even swallowing felt difficult in that moment. I had seen that look before. That look where his eyes said "you are mine" without even speaking.

I loved that look more than anything else in the world.

Because in that look... I saw myself. Not the way I see me... but the way he sees me - precious, beautiful, something he was devoted to.

And I loved myself a little more when I saw myself in his eyes.

A shy giggle escaped my lips.

I'll get ready tonight... just like before.

I pressed the pink saree lovingly to my chest and nodded to myself, cheeks growing warm just by imagining his reaction. Yes... tonight I'll take my doctor sahib's breath away.
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.
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.

Three... maybe four folds of the pleats later, I finally stepped back from the mirror.

The pink saree rested softly around my body, light and delicate, almost as if it had been waiting all this time to finally touch my skin. I hadn't put on my bangles or jhumke yet - not even lipstick - but even without all that, I could already feel the difference. My cheeks were warm, a small, steady smile sitting on my lips as I looked at my own reflection.

It really is beautiful.

A quiet thought whispered in my heart.

But the very next second another thought followed - he is going to lose his breath when he sees this. Hey bhagwan, I was turning such a besharam.

I pressed my lips together to hide a shy little grin as I walked to the dressing table. My phone lay on the corner. I picked it up and opened his contact.

For a moment I just stared at his name on the screen - Aarth- and smiled again.

Come home soon. I am waiting

I typed the message quickly and pressed send. The moment it delivered, a breathy giggle escaped from me. I could almost imagine his brows lifting the second he reads it... the way his lips will curl into that small, side smile.

There wasn't much time.

I quickly lifted my jhumke and wore them, feeling the cold metal touch my skin.

Then the bangles - the very same he had brought for me.I smiled at the memory and slid the bangles around my wrist - soft chan-chan sounds filling the room slowly.

I didn't take off my payal. He loves it when it makes sounds.

A little bit of kajal. A soft shade of lipstick - just enough.

Then I opened my hair, letting it fall over my shoulders. My baby hairs brushed gently against my cheeks and I remembered how he always tucks them behind my ear with his fingers.

Every small detail... every little thing I did... was for him.

I stepped back and looked in the mirror again - fully ready this time.

It was 8:00 pm.

He could arrive any minute.

My stomach fluttered at the thought. A sudden, completely innocent excitement filled my chest and before I even realised it, I was giggling - quietly - like a girl who had fallen in love for the first time. I lifted the edge of my saree slightly and twirled once in front of the mirror. The silk flowed softly around me and I stopped, a hand on my racing heart.

I felt beautiful.

I felt happy.

And all I wanted was to see the exact same feeling reflected in his eyes.

Bas ab aa jaaiye, Siddharth ji...
(Just come home now, Siddharth ji...)
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Aryan was sitting right in front of me - small legs hanging down the edge of the hospital bed, a faded blue toy car resting in his hands.

He was smiling.
Actually smiling.

For a long moment I didn't say anything. I simply watched him move the little wheels against his palm, softly giggling at something only he understood. Two weeks ago this same child couldn't even keep his eyes open without help... and today he was sitting upright and asking the nurse for an extra chocolate.

I let out a slow breath I didn't realise I was holding.

Promise fulfilled.

This was never just another case. I knew that the day I saw him lying on that stretcher - limp, silent, completely alone. Even when I told myself to maintain a professional distance, some part of me already knew I wouldn't be able to. The moment I saw that scared, hollow look in his eyes... I knew I had to make him live again. Not because I wanted to prove my skills - I've done that enough. But because little boys shouldn't grow up in silence. Not the way I did. And definitely not because of someone else's cruelty.

And today, watching him sit there with a faint dimple appearing on one cheek, I felt something inside me settle.

A soft rustle made me turn slightly.

Aryan's mother was sitting on the other side of the bed, eyes fixed on her son, hand resting on his leg as if she was too scared to lose him again. She hadn't moved in two whole days. Not even when the nurses offered her water. The same woman who once left her three-year-old in the hands of nannies and part-time caretakers was now wiping his face every ten minutes as though he might disappear if she blinked.

I didn't say anything. I wasn't going to.

I'd seen the change. I'd seen it the day Aryan, laid on stretcher and still half unconscious, wiped her tears with his tiny hand while standing at his father's funeral. The sight made a lot of people cry. Maybe that's when she realised what she had almost lost.

Whatever the reason was - guilt, regret, fear - I didn't ask for explanations.

Some wounds are better left untouched.

"Thank you, sir..." Her voice broke softly. "M-mai zindagi bhar aapki ehsaanmand rahungi."

(I... I will remain grateful to you my whole life.)

I stared at her for a second. Her eyes were swollen, lips trembling, hands still shakily resting over her son's knee. The grief of losing her husband still sat heavily on her shoulders, but this was life. People die, people suffer, and those who remain... have to move. Aryan was her only reason to move now. And that was more than enough.

I gave a short shake of my head.

"That was my work. No need to thank me."

My tone came out flat - not harsh, just factual. Because this was just work. For her.

For me... it was something I had to complete. For the lonely little boy who reminded me too much of a younger version of myself.

It will take time for her to earn his forgiveness, but that's her journey.

I've already done my part.

A small voice suddenly broke through my thoughts.

"Doctor Siddharth...?"

I turned back immediately.

Aryan was looking at me with his head tilted slightly, toy car still in his hand. His eyes were clearer today - brighter.

"Yes, Aryan?" I asked, tone softer.

He pressed his lips together shyly and lifted the toy. "When I grow up... can I really drive my car?"

A breath escaped me before I could stop it - half a chuckle, half a sigh. I bent forward a little and met his eyes completely.

"Of course you can."

His small dimples appeared again, and for the first time... the smile actually reached his eyes.

That was enough for today.

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The corridor was empty by the time I finished with the last patient. I closed the file and handed it over to the nurse, my fingers brushing the spine one last time before I let go.

It was done.

Dr. Sharma walked beside me for a few steps. "Alright, Doctor Rajvardhan... I'll take my leave. It's already late."

I gave a short nod - one word wasn't needed - and kept walking.

I reached my cabin and pushed the door open... the soft click of the handle echoing in the empty hallway. As I walked in, I glanced at my watch.

10:30 pm
Fuck!

I hadn't realised it was this late.

Inside my cabin, I reached for the lamp switch and the light fell across the table. Three reports still lay open. I stacked them in one clean line and pushed the drawer shut.

My jaw clenched.

I glanced at the phone lying near my stethoscope and picked it up. The screen lit up instantly.I reached out and picked it up, planning to call her... I hadn't heard her voice in hours.

One notification.

Come home soon. I'm waiting

The message had been sent at 7:03 pm.

Fuck! Fuck!

A harsh exhale escaped my chest. I pressed my tongue against my molar and looked away for a second - as if that would make the guilt burn any less.

Three goddamn hours.

She had been waiting for three damn hours.

I left the phone untouched in the drawer when that board meeting was called, and I didn't think about it again. She must be hungry & waiting. She won't even complain. That's exactly why it burns even more.

I grabbed the keys, buttoned my coat with one quick motion and walked out. My steps were faster now - not hurried, but firm. Focused. Irresponsible - the word came straight from my own mind and I didn't try to fight it.

I deserved it.

I took the elevator down, stepped out of the hospital.

I barely heard the night guard greet me when I passed the gate. The car door shut with a hard thud.

10:45 pm.

Another muscle flexed in my jaw - tight - then I started the engine and pulled out onto the road. The streets were calm. My hands tightened around the steering wheel as my mind went straight to her.

She must be sitting by the window like she sometimes did when she waited.

Another curse slipped past my lips. The city roads were half empty. I drove a little faster than usual - not recklessly, but with purpose. The only thing in my mind was her. Sitting alone in that room. Waiting. Probably checking the clock again and again.

Red light.

The car slowed to a stop and my eyes shifted - only for a second - to the corner of the street.

The flower shop.

The same flower shop I had walked into months ago. The same shop from where I got those Five hundred tulip bulbs.

My shoulders eased the slightest bit.

I stepped out of the car. One hand slipped into my pocket, the other adjusted the cuffs of my shirt. The night wind brushed past my neck, carrying the faint scent of roses.

No tulips tonight.

My eyes moved slowly over each bunch until they stopped on a small spread of pink lilies and white roses. Light cream petals. Soft pink edges. It reminded me of only one thing - the saree she wore this morning... and the pink colour on her cheeks when she smiled at me before I left.

"Rajvardhan sa'ab... kya lenge aaj?"
(What will you take today, sir?)

I didn't look away from the flowers.

"Pink lilies and white roses. Make it a bouquet." I said while my hand already working. I picking the best flowers for my cherry.

"Ji."
(Yes, sir.)

I stayed exactly where I was while he arranged the flower I gave him- one hand in my pocket, shoulders squared, eyes fixed on those flowers as if they were already in her hands.

When the man returned, I took the bouquet and rested it in my palm. A breath I hadn't planned left my chest... quiet... steady.

This wasn't a grand gesture, it was a small form of apology. My apology.
I paid, turned, and walked back toward the car - eyes on the bouquet, a small, restrained smile pressing against the corner of my lips. my fingers loosely curled around the stems, a quiet smile stretching over my lips.

I could already imagine her reaction. The way her lips would curve into that wide, innocent smile... the way her eyes would glow warmer than all the lights in the house.

And God - the way my heart would fail for a moment when I see her after three hours.

Tonight... I plan to lose my breath all over again.

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The gate closed behind me with a solid metallic thud. The house stood silent - lights off except for the small lamp near the staircase that threw a dim halo across the hall.

I stepped inside and closed the main door slowly, letting the calm swallow the noise of the world outside.

For a second, I just stood there.

The sofa near the window - the one she usually sat on waiting for me - was empty.

A faint frown pulled between my brows.

I scrubbed a hand through my hair and exhaled. It was almost 11:30. Too late for her to sit here and wait... she should've eaten. But even without thinking, I already knew the truth.

She wouldn't.

She never does.

I pressed my tongue to the back of my teeth, shook my head once and moved toward the stairs. Each step felt heavier than the last. The corridor was illuminated by the thin line of light slipping from our bedroom. My hand tightened around the bouquet - the stems biting into my palm in a firm, possessive grip.

She's awake.

I could almost see her in my mind - arms folded, lips pressed together, those stubborn brown eyes fixed on the door. She'd glare at me for two whole minutes and then melt the second I touched her.

A small breath escaped - somewhere between a sigh and a smile.

My little wife.

I reached the door and pressed the handle down - fully prepared to see my little angry wife.

The room opened into a soft, golden glow. Only the night lamp near the table was switched on.

And she was there.

She was sitting on the sofa - head slightly tilted, eyes closed - asleep.

The pink saree draped over her body like moonlight.

Long hair falling over her shoulder in soft waves.

Hands folded in her lap like she had been waiting... waiting... and sleep won.

The bouquet slipped slightly in my grip.

I shut the door gently with my foot and moved toward her - removing my shoes and leaving them beside the bed. Only in socks, I stepped across the wooden floor, silent, careful.

I placed the bouquet on the sofa beside her and sat down on my knees in front of her.

...God.

She looked unreal.

The soft kajal around her eyes. The faint lipstick still fresh on her lips. That light pink flush on her cheeks even while sleeping. And her hair - loose, falling across her collarbone in soft, careless strands that made my chest tighten.

And this saree, This saree was not for dinner. This was for me.

My heart gave one slow, hard thud. She had gotten ready for me.

Something tightened in my throat and I reached out - very carefully - to move a loose baby hair away from her cheek. My fingers brushed against her skin so lightly that I barely even felt it, but it still sent a sharp warmth rushing up my arm.

I didn't wake her.

I couldn't.

I just sat there - knees pressed into the carpet, shoulders slightly bent forward - and looked at her the way a man looks at something holy.

The little mole near her chin... the soft pout of her lips... the faint flush still lingering on her cheeks as if she was waiting for me and got tired in the middle of it.

She looked so breathtaking that for a second... I genuinely had to remind myself to breathe.

Her lips were slightly parted in her sleep, soft and beautifully pouty. There was a moment... just a moment... where an urge so strong filled my chest I thought it might tear me apart.

One part of me wanted to pull her against my chest and remind her she belongs to me - completely, entirely, eternally.

The other part of me wanted to stay like this all night, worshipping her from a distance - just grateful that a woman like her exists in my lifetime.

I couldn't decide.

So I just remained where I was - neck slightly bent, thumb brushing over the edge of the saree - and let my heart ache in absolute silence. I just stared - barely breathing - and let my heart ache in the most beautiful way.

She looked like a prayer finally answered.

She got ready for me.

And that one realisation alone was enough to bring a burning tenderness to my chest - something that almost hurt in the best possible way.

A small flicker of light from the night lamp fell over her earrings and made them shine. And in that soft light, I realised something - the message.

"Come home soon. I'm waiting."

She just wanted to look beautiful... for me.

And she did. God she always does.

She looked so beautiful that if she opened her eyes right now, I swear my soul would leave my body willingly.

I brushed another tiny strand behind her ear, fingers trembling as my slightest touch will disturb her.

If she opens her eyes right now... I swear I'll lose every once of restraint I have left.

How do you still manage to do this to me, Noor... even when you're sleeping?

Siddharth stayed there for a long moment, head slightly tilted, eyes fixed on her sleeping face as though it was the only thing existing in the world.

He didn't move.

He didn't even blink.

He simply watched - silently - every soft rise and fall of her chest, the way her lower lip trembled a little with each quiet breath.

Noor shifted slightly in her sleep.

His spine straightened but he still didn't say a word.

Then, slowly... her eyelashes fluttered. The softest movement. And a second later, those warm brown eyes opened - still half sleepy - meeting directly with his calm blue ones.

For a small second, time just stopped between them.

A gentle smile spread across her lips the moment she saw him kneeling there... as though her heart had recognised him before her brain did.

"Hey..." he whispered - voice low, quiet, carrying an affection that would never be spoken out loud.

The smile on both their lips deepened - soft... private... almost shy.

"Kab aaye aap...?"
(When did you come...?)

Her voice was husky with sleep as she whispered the words, her head still tilted against the sofa cushion.

Siddharth straightened a little but didn't look away, never breaking the eye contact. He was still on his knees when Noor finally pulled herself up into a sitting position.

His hand, still raised near her face, gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Then he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.

"Pata nahi..."
(Don't know...)

Noor shook her head at him softly and turned her eyes toward the wall clock. Her eyes widened a little.

"Bahot deri ho gayi aapko toh..."
(It's very late today...)

She quickly stood up, smoothing the saree over her hip. "Chaliye... khana laga dete hain hum aapka."

(Let me serve your dinner.)

She took two small steps toward the door when his hand suddenly wrapped around her bangle-clad wrist. Within a breath, he pulled her back.

Her body collided with his chest - soft against firm - and her hands instantly landed over his chest to balance herself. Her lips parted lightly at the sudden pull, eyes lifting up to meet his intense gaze.

Siddharth then still looking deep in her eyes bend a little to get the flowers he brought. The efforts she put in herself & his irresponsible behavior was making him haye himself. Now even those flowers couldn't compensate in his eyes.

Noor's eyes fall on his hand, the beautiful bouquet of lilies & roses made her eyes twinkle. Siddharth saw the twinkle & gently forwarded the flower to her while saying "I'm sorry for getting late Cherry. I'm so so sorry" he will say.

Noor will then take the flower. Her eyes twinkled exactly how he dreams & then he said still looking at her "I know these flowers couldn't compensate-" when Noor cut him off and said "bahot pyare hai. Thank you" with a smile that was enough to make his breath hitched. She then bent a little to keep the bouquet on the sofa back.

His palm gently cupped the side of her face.

"Apne khana khaya?"
(Did you eat dinner?)

Noor held her breath for a second - her lips still parted - and then she whispered back, "Jawab pata hai... phir bhi kyun puch rahe hain?"

(You already know the answer... then why are you asking?)

She gave a soft push to his chest and stepped back again. Siddharth didn't stop her this time. He simply kept the same quiet smile on his face... because he already knew.

Noor turned and gently took his wrist in her small hand - her payal making a soft chan-chan as she began walking towards the door.

Siddharth followed - silently, willingly - letting her lead him down the hallway.

Her saree's pallu trailed softly behind her, brushing against the floor.

Siddharth's eyes dropped down.

Without a word, he took one small step forward, bent slightly, and caught the long end of her pallu in his free hand - keeping it lifted so it wouldn't drag across the ground... or make her trip. His fingers held it carefully, almost protectively, and he continued walking behind her - eyes on her back, mind filled with nothing but the thought that she was his and he wasn't going to let even a thread of her saree touch the floor.

Step by step, they moved toward the dining room - her payal singing softly through the quiet house... and his heart responding to every sound like it was the only melody it knew.

Noor led him toward the dining table, her small hand wrapped around his wrist, the soft sound of her payal following every step. Siddharth's eyes never left her back - the way the silk of her saree moved with every slow stride... the way her loose hair brushed against the curve of her waist.

She reached the table and let go of his hand so he could sit.

Siddharth pulled out the chair and sat down quietly & she turned to leave. He saw that & hisbfingers moved instantly - catching her wrist again.

The sudden noise of her bangles echoed gently in the stillness of the room.

"Kahan ja rahi hain aap...?"
(Where are you going...?)

Noor looked over her shoulder, sleepy eyes slightly wide. "Khaana garam karne..."
(To heat the food...)

Siddharth shook his head once - firm, silent - as if that answer itself was unacceptable.

It was almost midnight... she was tired, half-asleep... and still ready to walk into the kitchen to re-heat the food.

Before she could take another step, he pulled her closer - a gentle but firm tug - and Noor fell softly onto his lap. Her palms pressed against his chest in surprise, eyes flicking up to meet his.

"Koi zarurat nahi hai."
(There's no need.)

Noor blinked at him, her voice nothing more than a soft whisper.

"To kya thanda khana khaynge aap?"
(So you will eat cold food?)

Siddharth exhaled slowly, looking at her in that calm, heavy way only he could.

"Late main aaya hoon... toh neend aapki kyun haraam karu..."
(I was the one who came late... why should I disturb your sleep...)

As he said it, his arm slid around her waist - pulling her gently against his chest.

Noor's heart, which had been a little upset a few minutes ago, melted immediately.

She let out the softest smile and relaxed in his hold, not caring about anything else. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she rested her head against his shoulder - completely comfortable, completely his.

"Itne pyaare kyun hain aap... Aarth..."
(Why are you so sweet... Aarth...)

He kept looking at her... eyes full of quiet affection as the soft golden light made her jewellery shine. He tilted his head and pressed a warm kiss to her forehead.

"Kyuki main aapke Aarth hoon."
(Because I am your Aarth.)

Noor giggled softly - the kind of shy, sleepy giggle that made his chest feel too small for his heart - and leaned even closer.

He watched her for another moment... the smile, the slightly pink cheeks, the eyelashes resting on her skin... and then he leaned forward again - pressing a soft kiss to the bridge of her nose and the corner of her lips.

Noor's giggle stopped instantly.

She sat up straight on his lap and slapped her palm lightly against his chest.

"Kitni baar kaha hai... yahan nahi..."
(How many times have I told you... not here...)

Her cheeks had turned a soft shade of red.

Siddharth didn't say a word - just leaned in again and stole a small kiss directly on her lips, it was just a small peak. Her eyes widened for a second, then softened.

"Sorry," he murmured against her mouth.

Noor slapped his chest again - with pure, adorable frustration - before resting her head right back on his chest as though she never wanted to move away.

Siddharth let out a low breath and pulled her even closer, one hand still around her waist while his other reached out toward the dishes on the table. He began serving dinner - into one plate - not moving her from his lap even for a second.

And Noor stayed there quietly, arms still around his neck, heart beating softly against his.

Siddharth mixed the rice and curry together with calm, practiced movements - the plate held securely in one hand while the other remained tangled in Noor's hair, stroking through the soft strands as if every touch was a silent apology. She sat in his lap, her head resting against his shoulder, one leg curled under herself, and her fingers quietly playing with the open button of his shirt.

Each soft clink of her bangles echoed against his chest... slow... unhurried... intimate.

He lifted the first bite and paused for a second, brushing back a stray curl from her cheek with the back of his fingers. Noor looked up instantly, lips already parting - without asking anything because she knew.

He always makes her take the first bite.

Without breaking eye contact, Siddharth brought the bite to her lips. She leaned forward and took it, eyes fluttering closed for a brief second as she chewed - still pressed against his chest.

Only then did he prepare another bite for himself.

Again he made a bite - and again gave it to her.

His thumb brushed the corner of her lip as she ate, and this time his eyes didn't leave her face even for a moment - watching the way her lashes moved, the way her throat swallowed, the way her small hand kept circling the same button of his shirt like a quiet confession of her affection.

"Pata hai..." she murmured suddenly, still looking down at the plate, "...hum aap ke liye tayyar hue the."

(You know... I got ready for you.)

The corner of his mouth pulled into a small smile - gentle, deeply affectionate - the kind of smile only she could pull out of him. He lifted another bite and held it to her mouth again. Noor glanced up from under her lashes and took it. She looked innocent. And heartbreakingly seductive at the same time - soft lips... mussed hair... tired eyes still shining only for him.

Siddharth felt a slow heat spread through his chest and down his spine.

"Toh dikhaiye..."
(Then show me.)

Noor narrowed her eyes a little - more pouty than angry - and looked away, a tiny sigh escaping her lips.

"Ab toh sab kharaab ho gaya..."
(Now it's ruined...)

The bite he was about to take froze halfway. He lowered his hand, still running his fingers through her hair with the other, and his voice dropped - soft but certain.

"Kahaan?" he said quietly, eyes still fixed on her. "Aap toh ab bhi iss dil ke doctor ki dhadkane tez kar rahi hain."

(Where? You are still making this heart of your doctor beat faster.)

Her cheeks flushed immediately. A silent, shy smile spread across her mouth and for a moment she couldn't even meet his eyes.

"Aapse baaton mein koi nahi jeet sakta..."
(No one can win against you in words...)

He threw his head back for a second and laughed under his breath - deep, soft, and completely genuine - before preparing another bite and bringing it to her lips again.

She leaned forward to take it.

A small grain of rice stayed back - stuck to her lower lip.

She didn't notice.

He did.

His eyes stilled on that one grain... and something in his gaze shifted. Noor paused also - sensing the change. Their eyes locked.

A small, slow smile curved the corner of his lips.

Before she could understand it, he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to her lower lip - soft, warm - teeth gently grazing as he took the rice grain away with his own lips.

A single heartbeat passed.

Then another.

He pulled back only a little, lips still dangerously close to hers, blue eyes dark and unwavering.

"Khanna acha bana hai..."
(The food is good...)

She blinked, hand pressed firmly against his chest as her eyes flickered toward the open hallway, suddenly very aware they were still in the dining room.

He felt her body tense, ready to pull away.

But before she could move, his arm slid downward from her hair and wrapped fully around her waist - firm, possessive - stopping her there.

"Hatiye aap..." she whispered, eyes wide. "Ajeeb besharam hote ja rahe hain..."
(Move away... you're becoming too shameless...)

He didn't move.

He simply smiled - that quiet, sinful smile - and leaned again, burying his face against the curve of her neck. She shivered immediately. The roughness of his stubble brushed over her skin, his warm breath fanning against the sensitive spot just below her ear.

He tilted his head and brushed his lips against her ear, whispering in a voice heavy and low-

"Sorry."

The word wasn't sincere and they both knew it, & yet they both smiled.

Noor's breath caught in her chest. For a moment she tried to stay angry - truly tried - but it melted the second she felt his lips graze her skin again.

She turned her face back toward him... and their eyes met - blue and brown - filled with the same quiet longing.

She exhaled softly and settled back on his lap, cheeks still red but a small stubborn smile returning on her lips. Her fingers lifted again... playing with his shirt button as she leaned into his chest again - completely his.

Siddharth's smile grew. His grip around her waist tightened, eyes never leaving her face, as he reached once more for the plate to give her the next bite.

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The last bite melted softly on Noor's tongue. She looked up at him with a tired, full smile. she couldn't eat another bite but would still do it if he asked. Siddharth watched the way her lips curved and let out a low breath through his nose. He brought his fingers to his own mouth as he tasted the last trace of curry from the tips - his eyes never leaving hers. The soft pink of her lips... the sleepy glow in her eyes... it was almost impossible not to get lost again.

His jaw flexed unconsciously.

"Taiyyar hui aur dikhayengi nahi?" he whispered, voice husky, lowering his head just enough for their noses to brush.

(You got ready... and you won't even show me?)

A excited breath escaped her lips and she gently slid off his lap. Siddharth leaned back in the chair, eyes fixed on her as she stepped a little away. Slowly - with a small smile playing on her lips - Noor lifted her pallu and made a soft twirl, the silk of her saree flowing around her like water. She turned once, then stood still, one hand resting at her waist... her eyes shining, cheeks still pink, breathing softly as she asked:

"Bataayiye... kaise lag rahi hai hum?"
(Tell me... how do I look?)

Siddharth leaned back further, one arm resting casually over the back of the chair, broad shoulders completely relaxed - but his eyes... his eyes moved slowly over every inch of her like a silent, forbidden prayer.

The sindoor in her hairline...

The softness of her brown eyes - his home.

The light pink lips that always carried his name in their smile.

The thin black thread of her mangalsutra resting against her breasts - the one thing in the world he was jealous of yet greatful of, because it stayed closer to her than he could & yet it symbolize the purest bond they share.

The gentle rise and fall of her chest beneath the saree's pallu... his second home, where peace always lived.

Her soft waist, the very same he wrapped his arm around every night when the world fell asleep.

Her legs covered with silk... leading down to her delicate feet... the feet he loved kissing every night before she slept - because those feet carried his name in each step she took.

God.

How was he supposed to answer a question that didn't have words?

He wiped his fingers with a tissue, eyes never leaving her, and stood up.

Noor stayed still - heart thudding - as he walked toward her with slow, unhurried steps. She looked away for a brief second before looking back up again... and suddenly he was standing right in front of her - tall, broad, the dim light outlining every angle of his jaw and cheekbone.

His hand slid around her waist and pulled her against him in one firm motion - their bodies pressing together, breath mingling in the faint light of the night lamp.

Noor gasped softly, bangles singing against his chest as she steadied herself.

Before she could say anything, he caught her hand and lifted it carefully - pressing her palm flat over his chest, right above his heart, the heavy, wild thump of his heartbeat pulsed against her skin.

"Itni khoobsurat..." He answered with his heartbeat.

His voice came out rough ... deep... every word brushing over her skin like warm smoke.

She swallowed, looking away for a moment - cheeks flushed deeply, heart shaking softly in her chest.

Siddharth lowered his head, still holding her hand over his heartbeat. With his other hand, he lifted her chin - gently, firmly - and made her look up at him.

Her breath trembled.

Then... he leaned down.

His rough lips pressed against her soft ones - slow at first, testing her. Then his fingers curled around her waist, pulling her against him as the kiss deepened - slow, tender, possessive. Her fingers curled into his shirt, the silk of her saree brushing against his arms. She breathed against his mouth softly, lips parting as he kissed her again... and again, each time deeper than the last - like he was trying to drink every ounce of her breath into his own lungs.

There were no sounds except the faint whisper of her bangles, the soft rustle of silk, and the desperate thud of two hearts beating against each other.

And in that moment - nothing existed except him and her... and a kiss that spoke everything their words could never carry.

Siddharth didn't pull away immediately.

Even while kissing her, his fingers curled tighter at her waist... the taste of her soft lips driving him further into a place he only let her see. Her light pink lipstick had been silently testing his patience all evening - soft, innocent... tempting.

Just before he pulled back, Siddharth bit down on her lower lip - a little harder.

Noor gasped against his mouth, her hands tightening around his shoulders as her body arched just a little closer to him. Her breath came out shakily the moment he finally pulled away - eyes still half-closed, lips swollen and pinker than before.

He didn't give her a chance to recover.

Before she could even speak, Siddharth leaned down and slipped one strong arm beneath her thighs, the other around her back - and lifted her up against his chest in one swift movement. Noor's breath caught in her throat again and her fingers clutched the front of his shirt automatically as he carried her towards the staircase.

Her bangles kept brushing against his chest as she held on, and with every step his muscles flexed beneath her touch - large, solid shoulders moving effortlessly as he climbed the stairs without breaking eye contact.

The bedroom door swung open and he kicked it shut with his legs, not sparing it a glance.

He walked straight to the bed and laid her down gently... but he didn't lie down beside her. He remained half-standing at the edge, one knee on the mattress as he leaned over her - caging her without even touching her. His breath fell across her face, warm and heavy... his eyes dark and unblinking.

Then he kissed her again.

This time deeper.

Rougher.

His lips moved against hers with slow, thorough pressure - not rushed, but desperate in a silent, controlled way. Her fingers slipped into his hair and he groaned softly against her mouth. His teeth grazed her lower lip again before his tongue slipped inside - slow, wet, possessive - tasting her fully, claiming every corner of her mouth like it belonged to him and only him.

Noor's breath hitched, soft whimper leaving her throat as her body melted beneath him. He kissed her again. His hand slid beneath her hair, holding the back of her head gently... his body lowering over hers without fully pressing down, as if he was trying to control himself even as his entire being wanted nothing more than to lose itself in her.

He finally pulled back - barely - lips still brushing against hers... both of them completely breathless.

Siddharth pressed his forehead against hers, his chest rising and falling as though he had been running for miles.

If he had come home earlier... he would have taken his time to tell her how beautiful she is with his touches. He would have kissed her until she forgot her name and remembered only the sound of his. Until she only remembered how it feels to be someone whole world He would have made her say it again and again until she couldn't do anything but hold onto him.

But not tonight.

It was past midnight. She was tired. Her eyes were still heavy with sleep from earlier. Tomorrow they had to wake up for the morning pooja. And there was no way he was going to steal even a single hour of her rest just to satisfy the hunger inside him.

He gently pressed a soft kiss to the bridge of her nose... then another one on her forehead... and finally pulled away completely.

His thumb brushed her cheek once - a silent promise - before he stood up and stepped back.

Without saying a word, Siddharth walked toward the washroom - unbuttoning the cuff of his shirt as he went - leaving Noor lying on the bed, breathless and warm, her lips still tingling from his touch.

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Siddharth stepped out of the washroom, towel in one hand, chest bare and still slightly damp. The room was quiet... the night lamp casting a pale golden glow across the floor. His eyes went straight to the bed - to her.

She was still lying in the same place, in her pink saree, head slightly turned toward his side of the bed... as if even in her sleep she waited.

He looked at the clock - a little past 1 AM - and shook his head lightly. Even his own muscles felt sore from the long day. She must be ten times more tired.

He walked to her slowly.

For a moment, he just stood beside the bed - staring down at her with the kind of gaze that holds both devotion and madness.

Then he leaned down and gently removed one earring... massaging the soft lobe with his thumb.

Noor let out a soft little sound - a tiny moan she could not control in her sleep.

It made something dark and affectionate twitch inside his chest.

Siddharth smiled quietly and repeated the same thing to her other ear - slow, patient - before moving to her bangles. One by one he removed them, cold metal sliding against his warm fingers. He left the last one on her wrist, letting the tiny sound stay with her like a small ornament of his presence.

Her hair had fallen over her shoulder again. He gently lifted it, slid the pinned pallu off her shoulder and freed it carefully - making sure the small stone didn't scratch her skin.

He straightened up and went to the dressing table.

He didn't need to search. He knew exactly which drawer held the cotton pads and which bottle held her makeup remover -he had watched her every night.

When he came back and knelt beside the bed again, Noor stirred slightly - her lips parting, lashes trembling - but he only cupped her cheek and whispered, "Shhh..."

The cotton pad touched her cheek and he wiped away the kajal, the lipstick, every trace of the day - slow, gentle... almost reverent, like he was cleaning something sacred.

Once her face was bare again, he brushed his fingers over her jaw and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Then he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Another to her nose.

And one more - soft and lingering - on the corner of her lips.

He stood again and put everything back on the dresser.

The room stayed dim and warm.

When he turned back toward the bed, his eyes automatically fell on the gentle rise and fall of her chest - the soft outline of her curves still covered in the saree. His jaw tensed. He had told her so many times not to sleep in her bra... and yet she always did.

A faint, helpless exhale left his mouth - half smile, half surrender - and he stepped closer to the bed.

He walked to the foot of the bed and kneeled again, large hands slowly curling around her delicate ankle. Even in sleep, her skin responded - warm, soft, so impossibly gentle against his rough palm. He bowed his head and pressed a slow kiss just above the anklet... then another one below it - close to her heel - as if offering his silent devotion.

For a moment he stayed like that... forehead almost brushing her ankle... wondering how something this gentle, this pure, ever became his.

Then he stood up and moved onto the bed next to her.

He turned on his side, carefully pulling her closer - his palm sliding around her bare waist beneath the loosened pallu. With the other hand, he reached up and slowly unhooked the back of her blouse... quiet, methodical movements... removing the one thing that made her sleep uncomfortable, followed by her bra. The soft fabric came loose and the warm curves of her body pressed against his chest.

He didn't rush.

He simply stared for a long moment - his breath slowing... eyes darkening with an affection that bordered on worship.

Slowly, he lowered his head and buried his face gently in the soft swell of her chest - lips pressing a quiet kiss over her skin, as if thanking God for this moment. When his mouth reached her soft yet etect nipple, he brushed his tongue once - gentle, slow - and felt her body react even in sleep. A small moan slipped out of her throat and her arm lifted instinctively, wrapping around his neck as though she was reaching for him even in her dreams.

Siddharth smiled against her skin... closed his eyes... and stayed there with her nipple in his mouth, sucking on it slowly until her breath turned calm again and her hold around him relaxed in sleep.

He didn't move away.

He simply held her - face buried against her warmth - as though he could stay like that forever.

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I stepped out of the washroom, gently squeezing the water out of my hair with the towel. The room was still dark and silent... only the soft yellow night lamp glowing in one corner. My eyes immediately went to him.

Siddharth ji was sleeping - half curled, long arm tucked under the pillow, lips parted slightly in his deep sleep. He wasn't hugging the cherry pillow, but he had pulled another one close to his chest, holding it tightly as though he was searching for something warm in his sleep.

Hey Bhagwan...

My heart melted right away.

I placed the towel in the laundry basket and walked slowly toward him. Today maa organized a Shri Satyanarayan puja for us & i had to wake him up early for that. Maa asked us to get up early & take a bath at early hours but He looked so peaceful... and so tired. His brows were slightly furrowed even in sleep. As if his body was resting but his mind still hadn't stopped thinking.

I sat at the edge of the bed and raised my hand to cup his face. His skin was warm under my palm. I brushed my fingers over his temple softly and pushed back the small strand of hair falling over his forehead. Leaning forward, I pressed a light kiss there.

"Siddharth ji..." I whispered very softly.

No response.

I tried again - a little louder this time. "Siddharth ji..."

Still nothing.

I pressed my palm to his cheek and shook him gently. His hand immediately moved toward my side of the bed - like he was trying to pull me closer even in his sleep. I couldn't stop the small laugh that slipped past my lips.

"Uthiye na..."
(Get up, please...)

Very slowly, his eyelids lifted. He looked at me with the sleepiest, almost annoyed expression - and my heart immediately squeezed at how exhausted he looked.

"Kya hua...?"
(What happened...?)

He breathed the words out so softly and leaned into my palm as if he could melt into it. His eyes were already closing again when I shook him gently once more.

"Uthiye... subah ho gayi."
(Get up... it's morning.)

He groaned under his breath - long... tired - and pulled the blanket a little higher.

"Time... kya ho raha hai...?"
(What's the time?)

I bit my lower lip. "3:30"

Even in half-sleep his brows pulled together sharply. "Itni subah...?"
(This early...?)

I stood up quickly and took his hand, trying to pull him up.

"Jii... aaj puja hai na..." I reminded him softly, "aaj brahm muhurat mein snaan karna hai..."

(Today is the prayer... we have to bathe during brahm muhurat.)

"Heh..." he breathed - a completely confused, sleepy sound - and tried to lie back down again.

"Arre..." I quickly sat beside him and held his face in both of my hands this time, making him look at me. "Uthiye na, Aarth... late ho jayega."

(Get up, Aarth... we will get late.)

He let out a low, sleepy sound - a little irritated, a little helpless. "Late nahi, Noor... jaldi ho jayega..."
(It won't be late, Noor... it's too early...)

His jaw tightened in that familiar grumpy way, but he didn't complain further. I held his hand gently, tugging again. He opened his eyes - still heavy with sleep - and looked at me for a second. There was a flicker of irritation, but not at me. Just at the fact that he had to wake up at this hour.

And still... he let me pull him.

He didn't say a word. Didn't refuse. He just quietly let me take his hand and followed me toward the washroom - like a sleepy, grumpy, giant husband who was willing to obey purely because I asked.

I couldn't help the little smile on my face as I led him in.

I held his hand while walking inside the washroom, almost like I was guiding a sleepy child. His eyes were half closed, his jaw tense and heavy, and yet he followed me without a word. I had already kept his brush ready-with toothpaste on it-and quietly placed it in his hand.

"Jaldi brush kariye... chaliye," I said softly.
(Brush quickly... come on.)

He groaned under his breath and blinked at me with pure irritation in his sleepy eyes.

"Noor... yaar..." he muttered, as if I had committed some kind of crime for waking him.

For a moment I almost gave up. Hey Bhagwan, he looked so tired. A part of my heart wanted to let him sleep a little longer... but then we had puja this morning. He had to take bath in the brahm muhurat.

So I cupped his face again, caressing his cheek softly the way I always do when I want him to listen.

"Kar lijiye na, Aarth... please..."
(Please do it, Aarth... please...)

His eyelids lifted for a second. I could see pure irritation in his eyes... but not for me. For the fact that he had to be awake at 3:30 in the morning. Still, without arguing, he finally lifted his hand and started brushing - short, harsh strokes that told me exactly how grumpy he was. I didn't feel bad. Because I knew... he would never be angry at me.

I quietly stepped out and brought a fresh towel. Went to the shower area and kept it there just the way he keeps it for me. When I came back, he was rinsing his mouth, still half-asleep.

I stood beside him and gently nudged his shoulder toward the shower.

"Chaliye... jaldi naha lijiye. Hum aapke favourite white nikal dete hain."

(Come on... bathe quickly. I'll keep your favourite white ready.)

Another little groan. I couldn't help but giggle softly as I pushed him toward the shower.

He went inside finally and I ran to the cupboard - pulling out a freshly pressed white shirt and navy blue joggers. Then I stopped and shook my head. Kurta & shirt is too much right now.

So I took out a soft white T-shirt instead and placed them neatly on the bed.

A few minutes later, Siddharth ji stepped out of the washroom - hair still wet, only wearing his black shorts. His face was still sleepy... slightly irritated... and honestly too handsome for this time of the day.

I walked toward him but before I could say anything, he dropped on his neck and pulled me closer by my wrist. In the next second his face was buried in the side of my neck. His skin was cool from the shower... his stubble gently brushing against my collarbone as he breathed in - long and deep.

I felt a shiver run down my whole body.

I carefully lifted the towel and started wiping his wet hair.

"Kapde to pehen lijiye..." I whispered.

(At least wear your clothes...)

He groaned again against my skin but didn't move. When I finished drying his hair, he finally pulled back and walked - still half asleep - toward the bed. He sat down heavily and pulled on the joggers I kept out. But he didn't even touch the T-shirt.

I stood beside him with my hands on my waist. "T-shirt to pehen lete..."
(At least wear the T-shirt...)

Before I could finish that thought, I felt the warm weight of his palms wrap around my waist. In the next second he pulled me close so I was standing between his parted legs. He lifted the pallu of my saree that was covering my stomach and buried his face against my bare stomach - hiding himself there like a big sleepy baby.

"Mujhe nahi pehna... kuch."

(I don't want to wear... anything.)

His voice was rough... muffled against my skin. His warm breath was hitting my stomach and his stubble tickled - making me close my eyes for a second.

Hey Bhagwan.

I didn't move. I just rested my hands gently in his hair and stood there quietly, letting him hold me.

He stayed like that for a long moment... completely silent, completely still... just breathing against me. I knew - more than sleep, more than anything - he simply needed me.

I stroked his hair softly and whispered, "Achha... aap rest kijiye. Hum niche dekh lete hain..."
(Okay... you rest. I'll go downstairs and take care of everything...)

The answer I got was his arms tightening harder around my waist - not letting me move even an inch.

I shook my head softly. Yeh aadmi... (This man...)

He was behaving like the most spoiled, cuddly husband in the world - and I wasn't complaining even a little.

I was still lost in that thought when suddenly I gasped - yelping a little - because he lifted me up without warning. Just like that... still in that sleepy state... he lifted me and laid me gently down on the bed, coming down right beside me and pulling me fully into his arms.

Before I could say anything, his face pressed against my neck again and he held me tighter - as if silently telling me "don't go anywhere."

And I didn't.

Because truthfully... I didn't want to go anywhere either. But I have to.

Before I could convince him to lie down properly, I suddenly felt his lips moving again - this time a little lower. His body shifted slightly and the next second his face was buried in my chest. My breath stopped for a second. His fingers lifted my loose pallu very softly and hid his face under it... right against my skin.

My cheeks burned immediately.

Hey Bhagwan...inko neend aayi bhi hai ya ye bas mujhe pareshan karne ke liye so rahe hai?

(Oh God... does this man even get sleep or does he just wake up to tease me?)

For a moment I simply smiled - big, helpless and full of love - because he looked so cute like this. Absolutely like a little child trying to find comfort in his favourite blanket. His hair were still damp, his breath warm on my skin, and all he wanted was to stay wrapped around me.

At that moment I decided I will let him sleep.

They could do the puja after the Pandit ji arrived too. At least he had taken a bath. He needed this sleep much more.

But before I could even complete that thought... I suddenly felt his lips brushing right over my nipple and every single bone in my body froze.

The smile left my face instantly.

"Hey Bhagwan..." I whispered under my breath - cheeks turning red as a tomato - and quickly covered his mouth with my hand before he could do anything more. His eyes opened and looked up at me... and the amount of irritation in those sleepy eyes made me stare back at him with disbelief.

"Ab kya hua?" he said - completely frustrated, as if I stopped him from finishing something very important.

"Y-ye sab nahi kar sakte..." I stammered shyly.
(W-We can't do all this...)

"Kyu?" he frowned - still holding my waist - and tried to tug my hand away from his mouth.
(Why?)

"Siddharth ji!" I cried softly, cheeks turning even more red as I covered his mouth again. "Puja hai na... naha liye hum dono. Ab ye sab nahi..."

(It's puja today... both of us have bathed. We can't do all this now...)

"Ye kya baat hui?" he grumbled - eyes narrowing at me.
(What kind of logic is that?)

"Y... yahi baat hui." I managed to say - completely flustered.
(This is what it is)

He stared at me with half-closed, irritated eyes. For a moment I thought he would actually argue. My heart started beating faster.

So I whispered softly, "Aap so jaiye... hum neeche dekh lete hai."
(You sleep... I'll check downstairs.)

But he didn't even take a second before replying -

"Aapke bina main kaise soyunga..."
(How will I sleep without you...)

He said it like a very simple fact just... as if that was the most obvious thing in the world.

I couldn't help it... my lips curved into the biggest smile. My heart truly melted.

I slowly started patting his head with one hand, while the other still covered his mouth under the pallu.

"Achha... so jaiye. Main yahin hoon."
(Okay... sleep. I'm right here.)

He let out a soft little hum and within a minute or two, his grip around my waist loosened and his face relaxed against my skin. His breathing became soft and deep. He was asleep.

Very slowly, I removed the pallu from over his face and looked at him.

He looked so calm.

So innocent.

So mine.

I took a deep breath and smiled down at him as I gently brushed my fingertips across his forehead.

I very slowly lifted his arm from around my waist - careful... careful... not to wake him up. He didn't even stir, but the warmth of his touch still stayed there on my skin even after I moved away.

How could someone look this peaceful and this tired at the same time?

His hand shifted in his sleep - as if searching for me again. Before he could even realise I wasn't beside him, I quickly picked up a pillow and gently placed it against his chest.

Within one second... my thirty-four year old husband hugged it tightly like a little boy and buried his face in it.

I covered my mouth with my hand to stop a laugh.

I quietly fixed my saree and turned around - and my eyes immediately fell on the bouquet he had brought last night.

Pink lilies and white roses.

They still looked fresh and beautiful... blooming as if waiting for me to look at them. My heart softened instantly. He came so late... but still stopped to bring these for me. And I know him. If he came late, it was only because there was something very important. My Aarth never ignores me. Not even for a second.

I walked toward the bouquet and gently picked it up - fingers brushing over the petals softly.

I remembered everything from last night all at once.

The way I twirled my saree for him... the way he looked at me... the way he kissed me and said sorry in that soft whisper.
A small smile came on my lips.

It was almost 4 AM now. I opened the cupboard and pulled out the red saree - his favourite colour on me. A sudden little thought came into my head and I stopped for a second.

Maybe I should take a little revenge.

He teased me so much last night... and was so grumpy just a few minutes ago.

So why not tease him a little now? My heart suddenly started feeling very excited.

I looked at his sleeping face through the mirror. He was still hugging the pillow, breathing softly... completely unaware of the torture I was planning for him.

A mischievous smile appeared on my lips.

Yes. I'll wear the red saree.

I'll put those same pink lilies in my braid.

I'll get ready exactly like last night...

...and then I won't let him even come close to me - at all.

I couldn't help it - I giggled softly. A full, happy, childish giggle.

Just imagining his face... the way his eyes will darken, the way his jaw will tense, the way he'll try to hold me and I'll simply walk away... I'm actually excited.

With that thought, I placed the flowers into the vase carefully and started preparing everything I needed - the red saree, the flowers for my hair, my earrings and bangles - all the while smiling like a little girl planning a secret surprise.

And every now and then... I looked at him sleeping in the mirror, and my smile grew even wider.

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It was already eight in the morning, and I was sitting in the courtyard threading marigold flowers one by one to make the garlands for the Satyanarayan bhagwan puja. The air smelled of sandalwood and wet flowers, and the sun had completely risen by now.

I paused for a second and looked at the clock on the wall.

8:05.

I have to wake him up!

But the moment I looked down at myself - red saree, hair neatly braided with pink lilies, light kajal, little bindi - I realised something very serious.

If I went in front of him like this... my plan would end right there only.

He would pull me, and this teasing idea I had would disappear in two seconds.

I quickly shook my head - more to myself than to anyone. No... not yet. I can't go in front of him right now.

But someone had to wake him. Otherwise we really would get late.

I looked around and spotted Adarsh sitting on the sofa with Veer bhaiya. Both of them were laughing at something on the newspaper.

I cleared my throat softly. "Adarsh...?"

He looked up immediately. "Ji bhabhi?"

(Yes, bhabhi?)

He walked toward me, smiling, and sat down on the little wooden stool beside me. He picked up one marigold and waited as if ready for instructions.

I gave him a very gentle, innocent smile. "Wo... zara inko utha denge? Hum mala bana rahe hai na..."

(Um... can you please wake him? I'm making the garlands...)

The marigold fell straight from his hand back into the basket.

He stood up like I had asked him to jump into a burning volcano. "Main nahi kar raha ye sab."

(I'm not doing this.)

"Kyuu?" I asked, frowning.
(Why?)

He immediately looked at Veer bhaiya first - who was already smiling widely at us - and then back at me. His hand went behind his neck in pure fear.

"Bhai mujhe mar hi daalenge... a-aur agar aapko samajhkar dabocha toh... ijjat chali jaayegi."

(He'll kill me... and if in sleep he mistakes me for you and grabs me... I'll lose my dignity.)

My eyes widened and the smile vanished from my lips. "A-Adarsh!! Ye... ye kya bol rahe hai aap..."

(Adarsh!! W-What are you even saying...)

He scratched his head and looked even more scared. "Haan toh... unko toh aapse uthne ki aadat hai. Main jaunga toh mujhe hi samjhenge na, bhabhi..."

(Well... he's used to waking up to you. If I go, he'll think it's me!)

I quickly looked down, cheeks turning warm. what are they even saying...

Before I could say anything, a loud smack sound echoed in the room - followed by Veer bhaiya's voice.

"Kuch bhi bolt hai tu, bhabhi. Main utha deta hoon bhai ko."

(Don't worry bhabhi, I'll wake him up.)

I nodded quietly, still looking at the flowers, trying to hide the shy smile that had taken over my face. The idea of Siddharth ji waking up and not finding me next to him... and then coming downstairs to see me in red saree with his flowers in my hair... my heart actually fluttered in my chest.

I kept threading the marigolds - one by one - trying not to look up, trying not to show how excited I really was.

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Siddharth was deep in sleep when a sudden, rough shake brought him out of it - not gentle... not slow... and definitely not the soft kind of touch he was used to every morning. His brows pulled together immediately. No soft "Aarth..." in that familiar sleepy voice. No warm kiss on the cheek.

Just someone shaking him as if he was a sack of flour.

His eyes snapped open - still half glazed with sleep but filled with clear irritation.

Veer was standing in front of him.

"Kya hai?" Siddharth growled, voice low and rough from sleep.

(What is it?)

"Uthiye bhai... subah ho gayi."
(Get up, brother... it's morning.)

Veer took a cautious step back. Siddharth stared at him for a full second - from head to toe - as though trying to understand why he was standing beside his bed instead of Noor.

Where was Noor?

She always woke him up.

She always pressed a soft kiss on his forehead and whispered "utheye na..."

His jaw tightened.

Veer cleared his throat quickly. "Bhabhi ne hi bheja hai. Wo neeche... mala bana rahi hai."

(Bhabhi sent me. She's downstairs... making the garlands.)

That only made Siddharth more annoyed.

First, she didn't let him cuddle her properly. Second, she left him alone in bed. Andvnow... she sent Veer to wake him up?

He exhaled sharply - more of a groan than a breath - and sat up. His hair was still messy from sleep and the irritation wasn't even trying to hide itself from his face.

He swung his legs off the bed and stood, the blanket falling to the floor. His eyes landed on the folded kurta-pyjama neatly placed beside the pillow. She had kept it ready for him. A small frown softened just a little... and he reached out to touch it with his fingertips - almost as if he was touching her.

A tiny, helpless whisper left his lips.

"Good morning, Cherry..."

And just like that, even in his frustration... a small smile appeared on his face.

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Panditji had already arrived by the time Siddharth came downstairs. It was almost 9 a.m. and the entire hall was filled with the soft fragrance of ghee, sandalwood and fresh marigold. Noor sat on the floor near the havan kund, carefully arranging flowers around the silver thali. Her head was covered with the red pallu and her back was toward the staircase.

The moment Siddharth stepped down, his eyes immediately began searching for her - slightly narrowed, irritated and desperate in the quietest way. He did not bother greeting anyone. He didn't even try to hide that restless look on his face.

Panditji preparing the samagri, Veer and Adarsh sitting on the carpet, Maa arranging the aarti thali-but his gaze didn't stop on anyone.

It stopped on her.

Noor sat near Panditji, face hidden by the red pallu that covered her head, fingers working quietly as she placed flowers around the silver havan kund. Even without seeing her face, something inside Siddharth stilled.

Red.

She was wearing red.

A quiet gulp worked its way down his throat before he even realised it. It wasn't intentional. It was reflex-the same reflex his body had every time she wore that colour. He stayed right there, jaw locked, hand resting against the wooden stair baluster, just... watching. Wanting to walk forward. Wanting to pull her close and mumble how it was just morning & she was already making it hard for him to stay calm.

Noor felt a eye on her. She didn't need to turn to know he was there.

She felt it.

That dense heat pressing against her back... the silent weight of his stare boring straight through her pallu and into her skin. Her fingers paused on a marigold petal and she bit her lower lip, eyes fluttering shut for a second as she tried not to smile. The longer he watched, the hotter her skin felt.

Panditji's voice broke the moment.

"Beta, prasad le aayiye."

(Child, please bring the prasad.)

He saw Noor nodded and stood up, still keeping her face low under the pallu. Noor get up and walk toward the kitchen.

That was all he needed.

He didn't look at anyone. Didn't smile. Didn't answer Veer or Adarsh when they greeted him. With the same grumpy expression still planted on his face, he turned and followed her in long, silent strides.

He simply followed-like a man walking toward something that belonged to him.

Noor began pouring kheer into small bowls, heart beating louder with each passing second. The air behind her suddenly got warmer... heavier... until the hair on the back of her neck stood up.

He was here.

She didn't turn.

The steady, blazing stare on her back told her exactly who had entered the kitchen.Noor had just started ladling kheer into small bowls when she felt him.

That familiar heat... that heavy, masculine presence that wrapped itself around her even before he touched her. The ladle stopped mid-air as her breath caught.

And then large palm landed beside her on the marble counter-close... terrifyingly close-caging her between the cold slab and the hard heat of his body. He didn't touch her. But he was there. Close enough for his breath to fan the back of her ear. Close enough to make her entire body tense.

"Aap kyun nahi aayi uthane..."
(Why didn't you come to wake me...)

His voice came out rough and husky, dripping with irritation.. His warm breath fell on her ear - hot, slow - and she felt her skin break into goosebumps.

Noor's hand froze mid-air, spoon hovering helplessly above the bowl. A smile tugged at her lips but she kept her face neutral.

"Busy the," she replied softly.

(I was busy.)

He didn't move an inch. If anything, he came a little closer - body completely aligned against hers now, chest brushing lightly against her back-just enough to make her breath stumble.

"Mere liye bhi...?"
(For me too...?)

Silence.

Only the sound of her heartbeat. Her gaze flicked quickly toward the doorway - anyone could walk in at any moment. But her lips remained sealed, because she could feel the storm building behind her.

The air between them felt too thick. Her eyes flickered toward the kitchen door again nervously, terrified someone would walk in. And yet her pulse was racing with pure excitement at the way his voice sounded.

Siddharth exhaled once-slow, dangerous-then whispered against her ear in a husky voice that sent a warm shiver down her spine.

"Bahut khubsurat lag rahi hain aap..."
(You look very beautiful...)

His fingers lifted to brush her hair aside, exposing her bare neck. Noor knew exactly what was about to happen and her whole body reacted. Before he could touch his lips to her skin, she slipped away with one sudden step.

He blinked - genuinely confused - then frustrated.

"Kya kar rahe hain? Mana kiya tha humne! Yeh sab nahi."

(What are you doing? I told you... not like this.)

She said it with soft authority and took another small step back.

He took a step towards her.

She took one more back-anklets singing against the floor.

His face shifted back into a brooding frown but before he could say anything, Noor turned around and walked out. He kept his eyes glued on her and that's when he saw it...

The pallu sliding fully off her head.

The deep neckline of her blouse.

The braid swaying against her back, decorated with the lilies he had brought.

The slow, confident sway of her hips as she walked back toward the hall.

Siddharth stayed in the same spot, jaw tight, eyes burning.

She really did this on purpose. Just when she walk away, she did it - very slowly, she allowed the pallu to slip from her head and fall down her shoulder. She didn't look back, but she knew exactly what that exposed: the deep cut of her blouse... the braid decorated with the same pink lilies & roses he had brought last night... the soft curve of her neck now completely bare.

Behind her, Siddharth stopped walking.

Something dark and heady flickered in his eyes - like a fire had just sparked in the middle of his chest. His jaw flexed once... twice... and he inhaled slowly, as if trying to steady himself.

She looked unbelievable. The cream kurta hugged his chest and biceps in all the right places.Siddharth exhaled slowly. The kind of breath a man takes when he knows he is already ruined.

How the hell was he supposed to get through this puja... without touching her?

.

.

.

.

.

The tiny silver bell in Panditji's hand rang softly as he got ready to start the puja. Noor sat beside him, quietly covering her head again, but her pulse hadn't calmed since she walked out of the kitchen.

Her heart was beating far too fast.

Her cheeks were still hot,the man whose dark hungry gaze had followed every inch of her body just moments ago. She could still feel it. Like a warm, invisible touch pressed against her skin.

And for a second - just a second - her fingers trembled. what did I just do...
She actually wore a deep-neck blouse... only to tease him.

And the way he looked at her...

Her lips tugged up into a shy little smile and she bit down on it quickly before someone could notice.

She carried the deepam to Panditji and sat down again. Just then she felt it again - the same gaze. Hot. Direct. Unwavering. As though it was sliding over her from head to toe. She knew he had just stepped out of the kitchen.

Siddharth walked toward the havan kund in complete silence but with eyes that didn't move away from her for even half a second - a storm hiding inside that calm blue.

He sat beside her... and even though their shoulders didn't touch, Noor could feel the heat of his entire body pouring into her left arm. The tiny hairs at the back of her neck stood straight. She kept her face low... eyes fixed to the flowers in her palm.

Don't look at him, Noor. If you look, you'll lose.

Aditi ji placed the dhoti on Siddharth's shoulder and then took Noor's pallu and tied the two ends together like a gentle knot - the gatbandhan. The soft knot that held their fates together in the eyes of God.

Noor closed her eyes.

This puja wasn't just a ritual.

It was a promise of a new beginning. A cleansing of the shadows that had almost destroyed this house.

For a moment, all the teasing, all the flirty tension simply melted away inside her heart - and all she could feel was a quiet, warm prayer rising from her soul.

She opened her eyes for one second - just one - and turned her head slightly.

Siddharth was already looking at her.

Not with irritation.

Not even with need.

Just... with that deep, steady softness that only she was allowed to see.
There was a painful kind of love in his eyes. The kind that comes only after surviving too much darkness.

Noor turned her face back to the fire and closed her eyes again. Her hands pressed together firmly.

"Bhagwan... bas ab aage sab accha ho. Jo kuch bhi unhone saha hai... bas ab uska ant kijiye. Unke har din mein aap khushi dijiye, sukoon dijiye... aur humein himmat dijiye ki hum unki har takleef ko dhire dhire khatm kar sakein. Unnhone zindagi bhar sirf dard dekha hai... ab bas pyaar mile. Is ghar mein...unke chehre par hamesha woh muskuraahat bani rahe..."

(God... please let everything become good now. Please end everything he has suffered. Give him happiness in every day... give him peace... and give me the strength to erase every pain he still carries. He has seen nothing but pain all his life... now let there be only love. In this house... let that smile always remain on his face.)

She didn't open her eyes for several moments, the prayer was silent... but heavy... like a heart opening itself completely in front of God.

.

.

.

The puja had ended. The mantras still lingered in the air like a soft aftertaste of peace. Noor stood in the kitchen, carefully placing small portions of prasad into each steel bowl. The smell of cardamom and warm jaggery drifted through the house.

She carried one bowl out for Dadi, gently bending down to offer it.

"Jeeti raho, beta," Dadi said with a tired but affectionate smile. And then her old eyes scanned the room in a lazy circle before she asked,

"Arey... Siddharth betwa kidhar hai?" (Where is Siddharth, child?)

Noor opened her mouth, about to answer that he has gone upstairs - when a deep voice rang out from upstairs, filling every corner of the hall:

"Noor!"

She stopped where she stood, lips still parted, That one word - full of impatience - echoed through her body like a pulse.

Soft laughter broke out around her. She didn't have to look; she could hear Dadi chuckling under her breath as she said, "Naam liya aur bawla haazir."

(Took his name and the mad one appeared.)

Everyone laughed.

Noor's cheeks turned scarlet. Hey Bhagwan... why did he always do this?

She quickly set the tray down on the table and stammered, "H...hum aate hain."

(I'll just... come.)

With her head down and her anklets ringing lightly, she left the hall - feeling every single pair of eyes following her. Her heart thumped wildly. Every time... every single time he calls me like that...

The corridor was quiet. Soft sunlight fell through the window at the end of it. She slowed her steps a little and exhaled - smiling to herself getting ready for what was waiting for her. She opened the bedroom door...and found it empty.

For a moment she frowned in confusion when suddenly click, the sound of the door locking behind her.

She spun around and saw him leaning against the door - hands in his pockets, head slightly tilted, lips curved in the faintest smirk. The kind of smirk that warned her that she might be in trouble.

Her heartbeat jumped.

"K...kya kar rahe hain...?" she asked softly.
(What are you doing?)

He didn't reply.

He simply pushed himself off the door and walked toward her - slow... lazy... but with that look in his eyes that made her feet grow weak.

She opened her mouth to say something - she wasn't even sure what - but he reached her before she could find the words. One warm arm slipped around her waist and pulled her against his chest. The sudden closeness robbed her breath. Her palms pressed against his shoulders for balance.

His heart was beating fast.

"You teased me a lot..." he said quietly. The low, husky tone vibrated against her collarbone.

There was a pause. His thumb brushed the side of her waist - deliberately - and he leaned even closer.

"...now I won't leave you."

Her breath caught in her throat. The teasing had seemed like a small childish game just minutes ago... but now, with the way he was looking at her... the way his hot breath fanned over her lips... it suddenly felt much bigger.

Noor's entire body shivered at the way those words left his mouth. The playfulness vanished and her heart stumbled hard against her ribs.

"K-Kya... won't leave me...?" she tried to ask innocently.
(What...you won't leave me?)

Siddharth's lips curled into a shameless smirk.

"Bataata hoon..."
(I'll show you.)

He lowered his head - clearly ready to kiss her -Noor, panicking, quickly pressed her palm over his lips. Her eyes were wide, cheeks burning. Siddharth blinked, surprised...and then confusion slowly replaced the smile.

Why was she stopping him?

She shook her head - silently, breathlessly. His brows pulled together softly. He caught her wrist and moved her hand down.

His brows pulled together in confusion, the irritation flickering back in his gaze.

"Kya hua...?"
(What happened?)

"Mana kiya tha... main-" she whispered.

(I told you... I...)

He frowned. "Par...puja toh khatam ho gayi."
(But...the puja is over.)

His voice sounded genuinely lost and it almost made her laugh. She pressed her lips together, fighting it.

"Haan... par hamara vrat toh chal raha hai..."
(Yes... but my fasting is still going on...)

He stared at her & then blinked.

"...kya?!"
(...what?!)

He looked at her like she had just broken every law of nature.

She pressed her lips to hold back her smile... and nodded, acting innocent.

"Hm... chhodiye... paap lagega."
(Hm... leave me... it'll be a sin.)

She placed her hands over his wrists and tried to pull them away from her waist. But Siddharth tightened his hold immediately and pulled her closer.

"Vrat kiya toh mere liye hi hai na... aur mujhse hi door jaa rahi hai aap? Aur shadi shuda logo ko paap nhi lagta "

(That fast is for me, right... and you're going away from me? & its not a sin for married people.)

Her lips trembled with a smile she was desperately trying to hide.

"Humne kab kaha aapke liye hai? Humare khud ke liye hai..." she said, deliberately teasing, looking directly into his eyes.

(When did I say it's for you? It's for myself.)

Siddharth stared for a heartbeat... then burst into a half-smile - shaking his head like he couldn't believe his wife.

"Toh main aur aap alag alag thodi hai..." he said in a soft, exaggerated cute voice.

(But you and I are not separate, are we...?)

That was it. Noor's straight face cracked and the shy smile finally broke free.

Siddharth's smile widened instantly - eyes soft and warm.

He tilted his head, ready to kiss her again - his fingers already loosening their hold as he leaned in. Noor instantly took advantage of the moment and pushed his chest gently. He stumbled back - completely surprised - watching her in shock.

She was already laughing softly.

"Bawale hain aap, Aarth..."
(You're crazy, Aarth...)

And before he could catch her, she turned and ran out of the room - anklets ringing like a little victory bell.

Siddharth stood there for a moment in disbelief - then his eyes narrowed with determination and an amused grin spread on his lips.

"Let me catch you once, tab bataunga kitna bawala hu" saying in a challenging teasing tone, he ran after her.

Noor didn't dare look back.

Without waiting for a single word, she stepped out of the room and moved down the corridor, her anklets chiming with every soft but hurried step. She wasn't running... but her feet definitely moved faster than usual. Her heart was beating far too loud.

She didn't turn around - even though she knew he was behind her - until she reached the top of the staircase.

She stopped. A soft breath left her lips as she slowly looked over her shoulder.

He was there.

Two steps behind.

Hands in his pockets walking casual toward her while she was running.

Those blue eyes fixed on her with the same dark, challenging stare - and then he mouthed "Run as much as you want... I'm still going to catch you."

Following by a flying kiss toward her. The teasing smile slipped from her lips and turned into something softer... smaller... a little shaky.

Very quietly, she stepped down.

And he followed.

Both of them descended the staircase without a single word, without a single touch - just a long stretch of silence filled with the sound of her payal and the weight of his eyes burning into her back.

She reached the hall.

Her plan was simple - sit calmly with others, pretend everything was normal and let him burn a little longer.

But her steps faltered. When her eyes fell on the entrance. There stood Abhijeet Rajvardhan.

And he wasn't alone.

Beside him stood a woman in a plain cotton shirt and simple joggers - not someone they had ever seen in this house before. She carried nothing in her hands. She simply stood there... eyes wide... silently taking in the scene.

The conversation and light laughter in the hall died instantly.

Noor stopped. Slowly, she turned her head - Siddharth had already stopped two steps behind her. The mischievousness on his face was gone. Completely gone. In its place was a stillness she rarely ever saw in him in front of her. His eyes weren't on Abhijeet.

They were on the girl.

The atmosphere - warm only a second ago - turned cold. Still. Suspended.

Dadi was the first to speak, her voice breaking the fragile silence.

"Yeh kaun hai, Abhijeet...?"
(Who is this, Abhijeet?)

Noor's eyes moved from Abhijeet... to Siddharth... to the girl... then back to Siddharth again. She moved slowly, silently, and stood beside him - as if by instinct - her arm brushing his sleeve, silenty standing in the whatever Strom he was fighting again.

For a second she thought he wouldn't say anything.

But then... in a very low breath - not loud enough for anyone else to clearly hear - she heard him whisper a single name.

"...Vani."
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