Dhruvika entered the apartment in complete silence.The moment the door clicked shut behind her, the weight she had been holding since the confrontation at Awasthi mansion seemed to sink into her shoulders. Her heels echoed softly across the marble floor as she walked toward the bedroom, not bothering to turn on the lights. The faint  glow from  outside filtered in through the curtains, wrapping the room in a muted, melancholic hue.

A few seconds later, Ranveer entered quietly, holding her bag .... the same one they had picked up from Harsh on their way back. He stood at the doorway for a moment, watching her from behind. She was kneeling down, gathering the clothes that had fallen carelessly near the bed. Her movements were quick, almost mechanical, as if she was desperately trying to keep herself occupied… trying to hold herself together.

“Dhruvi…” he called softly, but she didn’t stop.

“It’s okay… it just fell,” she murmured in a rush without looking at him. “I’ll just pick it up, freshen up, and then we—”

Before she could finish, he stepped forward and pulled her gently but firmly into his arms from the side. His hold was wordless but filled with a quiet urgency, as if he could sense the storm inside her.

Her body went still for a second. The fabric of the dress she was holding slipped from her trembling hands and pooled silently onto the floor. Ranveer tightened his embrace, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her temple.

That one small gesture ...warm, steady, grounding .... shattered whatever fragile wall she had built around herself. Her lips quivered. A tear rolled down her cheek, and then another. Before she knew it, her body started trembling in his arms as the tears kept falling, unstoppable now, like rain breaking through months of drought.

“V…veer…” her voice broke.

“I’m here…” he whispered against her hair, his voice low and soothing, like a promise. He kissed her head again, slower this time, then turned slightly so he could pull her fully into his embrace.

She didn’t resist. She turned completely and buried herself against him, clutching his shirt tightly as if afraid that letting go would make everything real again. Her face pressed against the crook of his neck, and she sobbed .. quietly at first, then harder, as the pain she had been holding finally escaped.

Ranveer said nothing. He only held her tighter, one hand stroking her hair, the other resting on her back, drawing slow circles in a rhythm meant to comfort.

He couldn’t imagine the depth of her pain — the years of betrayal, the loneliness, the bitterness that must have been eating her from within.

But seeing her break down like this… the woman who never showed weakness, who faced everything with her head high .... it tore something inside him.

Her laughter, her sharp voice, her teasing ... he had seen all of that. But this trembling, tear-stained silence — it was new, and it hurt.

“Shh…” he whispered near her ear, pressing another kiss into her hair.

Her sobs slowly softened into hiccups, her grip on him loosening just a little as exhaustion took over.

When the room finally grew quiet again, Ranveer pulled back slightly, just enough to see her face. Her eyes were swollen and red, her cheeks blotched from crying. She looked fragile ... so unlike the Dhruvika Awasthi the world saw.so unlike his Dhruvi.

He reached up, cupping her face gently, his thumb brushing away the streaks of tears. Then, without a word, he bent down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. She closed her eyes.

“Dhruvi…” he whispered again.

She opened her eyes, looked at him — and the moment their gaze met, another tear slipped down her cheek.

“Dhruvi…” he said helplessly, his jaw tightening as he pulled her back into his arms again. He couldn’t bear it. Every tear felt like it was burning through him. He had seen her fierce, proud, stubborn ...but this broken version of her… it made him restless, angry, protective all at once.

She clung to him silently, as if afraid he’d disappear if she let go. And in that quiet room, with only the faint hum of the city outside, Ranveer tightened his hold on her once more and whispered against her ear, his voice heavy with guilt and affection .

“I’m sorry…”

He didn’t even know for what ... for her pain, for not being there before, for not being able to erase what she went through ... but he meant every word.

And for the first time that night, Dhruvika didn’t try to be strong.

She just stayed there .... in his arms, allowing herself to fall apart .. because somehow, for the first time in years, it felt safe to do so.

Then finally… the storm inside her began to settle.

Her cries quietened into uneven breaths, her body growing limp in his arms as the exhaustion took over.

Ranveer stayed still for a while, making sure she wasn’t holding anything back anymore. When he felt her finally stop trembling, he loosened his hold just slightly .

enough to see her face. Her eyelashes were still wet, her lips pale, and her cheeks glistened from tears.

He reached for the water bottle on the bedside table and unscrewed the cap. “Here,” he said softly, bringing it close to her lips. She took two small sips before shaking her head, her voice rough from crying.

“Washroom…” she murmured, rubbing her nose weakly.

He nodded, brushing her hair back from her face. “Go,” he said quietly, and the moment she stood up, he turned toward the wardrobe. Opening it, he pulled out a soft  night pajama .

As she disappeared into the washroom, Ranveer exhaled deeply and looked around. It was well past lunchtime ... 1:20 p.m. The whole apartment felt too silent, too heavy with everything that had happened. He ran a hand through his hair and went toward the kitchen, his mind automatically thinking of something warm, something light.

He opened the refrigerator — a few vegetables, some leftover rice, and not much else. His eyes fell on the corner of the fridge where she always kept her ingredients for soup. She needs to eat something and what else he can make quickly.

. “That’ll do,” he murmured to himself.

Within minutes, the kitchen was filled with the faint aroma of simmering vegetables and herbs. He stirred carefully, tasting it once, adjusting the salt just the way she liked — mild and comforting. By the time he was pouring it into a bowl, he heard her voice from the room, soft and tired ..

“Veer…”

He turned off the stove. “Coming,” he called back, quickly wiping his hands and balancing the bowl carefully in his palms.

When he entered the room, she was sitting on the edge of the bed, her hair damp and sticking to her neck, her face pale but calm now. The sight of her like that ... quiet, fragile ... made something ache inside him again.

He placed the bowl on the side table and frowned. “You didn’t dry your hair?”

Before she could respond, he was already walking toward the drawer to fetch the hair dryer. “You’ll catch a cold,” he muttered under his breath, plugging it in.

She opened her mouth to protest, but he simply gave her a look .... the kind that didn’t need words ... and began drying her hair gently, his fingers moving carefully through the strands. The warm air from the dryer brushed against her skin, and for a few moments, the world outside didn’t exist .... just the hum of the dryer and the quiet intimacy of the moment.

When he finally switched it off, he kept the dryer aside and handed her the bowl. “Here,” he said softly.

“I don’t want to… please,” she murmured, shaking her head.

“A little,” he said, his voice gentle. He took a spoonful and held it near her lips. After a moment of hesitation, she took it.

He fed her slowly, patiently. She ate a few spoonfuls before pushing his hand away. “ Veer… I don’t want more. I just… I just want to sleep.”

He didn’t argue. “Okay.”

She lay down quietly, curling slightly on one side. Ranveer adjusted the blanket over her shoulders, tucking it near her chin like one would do for someone too fragile to move. He stood there for a second, watching her breathing slow down, before turning back to the kitchen to clean up.

The clinking of the dishes and the faint sound of running water filled the otherwise silent apartment. He dried his hands, and returned to the bedroom.

Dhruvika was still awake ..her eyes half open, lost somewhere far away. Without a word, he sat beside her and gently ran his fingers through her hair. She sighed softly and shifted, resting her head against his lap like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Her eyes fluttered shut. The weight of the past ... years of hurt, betrayal, and loneliness ..... pressed heavy on her chest. She didn’t know why the emotions she had buried so deep were suddenly coming out all at once. Maybe it was the confrontation. Maybe it was seeing him there, standing beside her when she felt like falling apart.

She tried to calm herself, tried to let her mind drift into sleep. Her voice came out faint, almost drowsy.

“Veer… eat something…”

“Hm,” he murmured in response, his fingers still stroking her hair slowly, rhythmically. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on her head. “ Sleep.”

She didn’t respond, her breathing evening out as sleep finally claimed her.

Ranveer continued to sit there, unmoving, his hand still caressing her hair as though stopping would somehow disturb her peace. The woman who never bent before anyone, who never showed pain, was now sleeping with tear marks still glistening on her cheeks ...and for the first time, Ranveer realized how strong she truly was.

He looked down at her once more, brushed a few loose strands from her face.

And as she slept soundly against him, he stayed awake, watching over her like the quiet shield she never knew she needed.

After some time, Ranveer’s phone began to ring softly on the side table. The sudden sound broke the quiet rhythm of the room, and his first instinct was to mute it before it could disturb her. Dhruvika was still sleeping, her head resting peacefully against the pillow, her face calm yet faintly swollen from all the crying.

He slowly lifted her head and placed a cushion beneath it, adjusting the blanket so she wouldn’t feel the sudden absence of his warmth. He stood for a moment, just watching her ..her eyelashes fluttering slightly in sleep, her lips parted as she breathed softly. For the first time in hours, she looked at peace. He couldn’t bring himself to move, but the phone buzzed again, more insistently this time.

With a quiet sigh, he picked it up and walked out to the hallway before answering, his voice kept low.

“Hello?”

“Sir, please come here quickly,” came a hurried voice from the other end. It was the contractor who was overseeing the construction of their house

Ranveer frowned. “What happened?”

“Some people are creating problems here. They’re not letting the workers continue. I tried to calm them, but it’s getting worse. We need you here, sir.”

He pressed his fingers against his forehead, rubbing the bridge of his nose as frustration seeped in. The last thing he wanted right now was to leave her. The thought of her waking up and finding him gone unsettled him deeply. But then again, that house ....their house — was part of her dream. If something happened to it, she would be even more hurt.

He closed his eyes briefly and inhaled. “I’m coming,” he said quietly before hanging up.

Ranveer turned back toward the bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, and through it he could see her sleeping form, the blanket pulled up to her shoulders. He walked in silently, every step careful not to make a sound. Standing beside the bed, he bent down slightly and tucked the blanket around her more securely.

he softly brush his thumb against her cheek. She stirred faintly, but didn’t open her eyes. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead — a silent promise that he would return soon.

Before leaving, he grabbed his wallet and glanced toward the kitchen. As he reached for his keys, his eyes fell on the half-finished bowl of soup sitting on the counter .... the one she had refused to finish. Her soft voice echoed in his mind, “Veer, eat something…”

He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t feel hungry, not even remotely. But he also knew her .... if she woke up and found out he hadn’t eaten, she’d scold him despite her own pain.

He sighed and picked up the bowl. The soup had gone cold, but he didn’t care. He took a  quick sips despite not feeling hungry, yet somehow the simple act of doing what she told him brought a strange comfort. When he finished, he placed the bowl in the sink and rinsed it quickly.

Unlocking the door quietly, he stepped out, pulling his jacket on. Before starting the car, he took out his phone and opened their chat. He typed a short message:

Had to go to the site for a while. Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon.

He stared at the message for a few seconds, then hit send.

The engine started with a low rumble. As he drove away, he kept glancing at the phone on the passenger seat,  hoping she wouldn’t wake up before he returned ...

Dhruvika stirred awake, her lashes fluttering as she blinked against the soft dimness of the room. She rubbed her eyes slowly, still wrapped in the warm heaviness of sleep. The first thing she reached for, instinctively, was him.

Her hand touched only the empty sheet.

A small frown creased her forehead.

“Veer?” she called, her voice still thick with sleep.

Silence answered.

She sat up, confused, and reached for her phone on the side table. A notification blinked.

She exhaled—a long, slow sigh that expanded in her chest. Of course he would leave a message. Of course he would think of her even while walking out. That was Ranveer—silent, but never careless with her.

She pushed the blanket aside and walked to the window. Drawing the curtains apart, she squinted as the deep orange glow of the setting sun kissed her face. December evenings were unforgivingly cold; when she opened the glass window, a sharp chill rushed in, brushing over her arms like icy fingers.

She didn’t know how long she stood there—just looking at the sky melting from gold to plum, letting the wind cool whatever heaviness was left inside her. Time passed in a quiet blur until she heard the front door click open.

Her brows lifted.

He’s back…

But a whole minute passed. Then another.

He didn’t enter the room.

She stepped out with a frown . As soon as she reached the living room, a warm, rich aroma wrapped around her—like she had walked into a festival.

She stopped.

There he was… bent slightly forward, arranging packets and boxes on the table.

But what caught her heart was the sight of what he had brought:

Hot kachoris.

Golden samosas.

Fresh jalebis glistening with sugar.

Pav bhaji packed in small containers.

Chole..

Two big boxes of rasmalai.

A small box of gulab jamun.

And a slice of chocolate truffle cake.

Even a packet of aloo bhujia and banana chips rested at the corner—because he never forgot the smallest details.

Her throat tightened.

For years… years she had swallowed every emotion, every hurt, every collapse in her heart because she had no shoulder to lean on. She had mastered the art of silence, the art of pretending, the art of being strong because no one else was strong for her.

But now…

This man.

This silent, broken man with no smiles and no warmth for the world—

He was giving her everything she once begged the universe for.

Before she could think, she walked to him and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, burying her face in his back.

“Dhruvi?” he murmured, startled.

She hummed, holding him tighter.

“When did you get up?” he asked quietly. She hadn't called him, so he assumed she was sleeping.

“Sometime ago,” she replied softly.

He turned, gently taking her hands in his. His eyes scanned her face—checking, searching. She wasn’t crying anymore, her eyes weren’t swollen. She wasn’t glowing but she wasn’t crumbling either. A small relief eased into his expression.

“You brought all my favourites,” she said, looking at the table.

“Hm,” he hummed, brushing her hair away from her face with a tenderness that made her chest ache.

A small smile curved her lips. “Okay… I’m hungry now.”

His face softened instantly.....as if her smile was the only permission he needed to breathe.

“Go change. We’ll eat… I can’t wait,” she said lightly.

He nodded and went to the room.

Dhruvika sank onto the sofa with a deep, quiet breath. Her mood....what was drowning an hour ago....felt like it was slowly bobbing back to the surface.

She reached for a kachori and took a bite.

Crisp, warm, perfect.

Ranveer returned after some time, carrying a water bottle. He sat down beside her without saying a word.

“It’s tasty,” she murmured, taking another bite.

He immediately brought the basket closer so she wouldn’t have to reach. She smiled at the small gesture.

He fed her a piece of samosa, and she fed him a tiny bite back.

It felt childish. Domestic. Intimate.

And she loved it.

“I can’t eat more,” she finally said, leaning back.

He didn’t argue. He quietly packed the remaining snacks, keeping only what was too little to store, and put the rest in the fridge. He had brought many items...because he didn’t know what she would crave—but in small quantities, exactly as she preferred.

When he returned, he held up the rasmalai cup.

“Not now,” she said, shaking her head. “We’ll eat after dinner.”

“I’ll make roti,” she said, standing up. “There’s still chole left”

He frowned. “I will make. I know cooking now.”

She raised a brow. “But I want to.”

“I will make,” he repeated firmly, voice soft but stubborn. “We can cook together from tomorrow.”

“But—”

“Here,” he interrupted gently and put a small piece of cake against her lips.

She opened her mouth without arguing.

Sometimes he didn’t speak much.

Sometimes he didn’t know how to express.

But when he wanted something…

He didn’t let her move.

He simply made her listen...quietly, gently, unshakably.

And she loved that too.

Dinner passed in a soft, almost healing quietness. Ranveer had put on a movie without much thought—he had simply typed best thriller movies on his phone and clicked the first one with high ratings. He didn’t care what it was about. He only wanted her mind to wander away from everything that had weighed her down.

And surprisingly… it worked.

She watched with unusual focus, barely blinking at some scenes, her expressions changing with every twist. Ranveer sat beside her, eating slowly, while she stayed completely merged into the story. He slipped away to the kitchen now and then to make rotis, but she didn’t even notice—her eyes glued to the laptop screen, her emotions tied to the plot rather than her pain.

When the movie finally ended, she let out a long breath.

“I was so sure someone else was the villain,” she muttered, sounding genuinely shocked, “but what a twist…”

Ranveer, who had absolutely no idea what twist she was talking about, simply glanced at her from the kitchen while putting the utensils back in their place. He had cooked, served, cleaned, and set everything aside...quietly watching her reactions from the corner of his eye.

She stretched a little, then stood up and walked to the balcony. She had watched the movie for him, for the effort he was making, for the way he was trying so hard… and somewhere in the middle of all the scenes, her mind had loosened a bit. Not healed, not fully fine.....but lighter than before.

She slid one of the blinds open. December wind rushed at her immediately. Even with her woolen sweater, the cold sting clung to her skin—but she liked it. She let the breeze hit her face, cooling the last traces of heaviness.

Then suddenly…

Warmth.

A familiar warmth circled her shoulders, slow and gentle.

She opened her eyes and looked back.

Ranveer stood behind her, carefully draping a small woolen shawl around her, pulling her closer into him.

Ranveer stood behind her, carefully draping a small woolen shawl around her, pulling her closer into him.

“You’ll get cold,” he murmured, adjusting the shawl so it covered her chest and arms.

If she liked the cold…

She loved this warmth.

She melted into him slightly, letting her fingers curl around the edge of the shawl.

After a moment, she lifted her face, eyes soft and vulnerable.

“Dhruv…” he whispered, sensing the shift in her breathing.

“Kiss me,” she whispered.She looked straight into his eyes.

His eyes softened instantly—like every wall inside him quietly fell at her request.

He didn’t speak.

He didn’t hesitate.

He simply pulled her into his arms and pressed his lips onto hers, deep and desperate in the tenderest way. It had been days since their last kiss, days since they touched each other with anything more than comfort—and the moment his mouth crushed against hers, he felt a strange calmness spreading through him.

When she broke the kiss, she didn’t move away. She placed her head on his shoulder, cheek resting against the warm skin of his neck, breathing him in while he wrapped the shawl tighter around her and kissed the top of her head.

“Veer…” she murmured.

“Hm?” his voice came low and warm near her ear.

“Can we sleep here?” she asked in a soft whisper.

He tilted his head to look at her.

“You want to?”

She gave a small hum against his chest. “Hmm.”

“Okay,” he replied without a second thought, tightening his hold around her .

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