Tina woke up with a splitting headache, the kind that made her feel like her head might actually explode.
She groaned and pressed a hand to her temple, trying to soothe the pounding pain.
Her memory was blank beyond the faint recollection of being upset-no, angry-over her father's latest move.
He wanted to ruin Ayush.
Her husband.
Her chest tightened at the thought, and she remembered pulling a bottle of alcohol from her cupboard to drown out the rage and despair.
After that, nothing.
She hissed in pain as the headache throbbed harder.
"Urgh!" she muttered under her breath, her other hand clutching the blanket as she sat up.
Her blurry eyes focused on something in front of her-a steaming cup of black coffee.
She blinked, and her gaze traveled up to the hand holding the cup.
Her breath hitched slightly when she saw Ayush standing there, his expression calm but unreadable.
For some reason, in the soft morning light, with his slightly disheveled hair and sharp features, he looked... hot.
She swallowed hard, feeling her mouth go dry.
Why was he standing there?
Why did he look like that?
Her head throbbed, and her thoughts felt muddled.
Ayush tilted his head, noticing her dazed look.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice low, yet it carried concern.
Tina quickly nodded, unable to form any coherent words.
She was suddenly very aware of the awkward silence between them.
He handed her the coffee, and she took it hesitantly, her fingers brushing against his for a split second.
That brief contact sent an unexpected jolt through her.
"Have it," Ayush said softly, "you need it."
Tina brought the cup to her lips, eager to distract herself from whatever weirdness she was feeling, but the moment the hot liquid touched her tongue, she hissed in pain. "Ow!"
Ayush frowned, his lips twitching in slight irritation.
"Crazy woman," he muttered, snatching the cup from her. "It's hot! Where is your mind, Tina?"
She winced, both from the burn and the reprimand.
He handed her a glass of water, which she gratefully drank.
Her gaze flicked to him, noticing the way his brow furrowed in concern as he took the coffee and blew on it to cool it down.
The simple gesture caught her off guard.
She just stared at him as he carefully passed the cup back to her.
"Here," he said. "Now it's safe. Drink slowly."
She nodded but couldn't stop looking at him strangely.
Why was he being so... considerate?
Her heart felt unsettled as she took a tentative sip.
It was better now-warm, soothing, but not scalding.
Yet, her thoughts kept spiraling.
What happened last night?
Tina tried to piece it together, but her mind was a jigsaw puzzle with missing pieces.
Blurred images and fragments of emotions danced in her memory-nothing clear, nothing solid.
It only made her headache worse.
She closed her eyes briefly, taking another sip of coffee.
When she opened them, she felt Ayush's gaze on her.
Her heart skipped a beat, and she instinctively avoided looking up, keeping her eyes on the cup.
She felt heat rush to her cheeks.
Was he judging her?
Was he angry?
Or worse, was he pitying her?
Her fingers tightened around the cup.
She wanted to ask him, to demand to know what had happened, but she was too embarrassed.
What had she done while drunk?
Ayush's voice broke the silence, his tone gentler now. "Does your head still hurt?"
Tina glanced at him quickly, shaking her head even though it wasn't true. "No, it's better," she lied.
He raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but said nothing.
Instead, he sat down on the edge of the bed, his presence filling the small space between them.
She felt her pulse quicken, and her mind buzzed with unspoken questions.
But Ayush didn't push her for answers, didn't scold her.
He simply sat there, quiet but steady, like an anchor.
And for some reason, that unsettled her more than anything else.
ââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
Amay zipped up the last of his luggage and let out a tired sigh.
His room was filled with the faint scent of cologne, freshly packed clothes, and the unmistakable air of departure.
He hated leaving like this, especially on such short notice, but the situation at their Australia branch demanded his immediate attention.
Anirudh couldn't go-his plate was already overflowing-so the responsibility fell to him.
He glanced at his watch and then at the door, hoping Suman would come home soon.
He hadn't told her about the trip yet, and the thought of seeing her reaction made him uneasy.
He didn't like keeping things from her, even if it was unintentional.
A few moments later, he heard the familiar sound of her cheerful voice.
She was home.
Amay turned towards the door just as Suman walked into the room, her eyes lighting up when she saw him.
"Amay!" she chirped, her voice carrying the usual warmth. But her gaze quickly shifted to the packed luggage sitting by the bed.
She frowned in confusion.
"Koi guest aaya hai?" she asked, pointing at the bags.
("Has some guest arrived?")
Amay shook his head.
"Nahi," he said simply.
("No")
"Phir yeh luggage kyun?" she asked, her brows furrowing deeper.
("Then why is this luggage here?")
He hesitated for a moment before answering. "Mujhe jaana hai... Australia."
("I have to go... to Australia.")
Her face fell, the happiness from moments ago replaced by visible surprise.
"Kab?" she asked softly.
("When?")
"In three hours," he said, his voice apologetic.
Suman stood frozen, processing his words.
She didn't understand why, but the thought of him leaving made her heart ache.
She clutched her bag tighter and tried to keep her expression neutral. "Kab wapas aaoge?" she asked, though her voice betrayed a hint of sadness.
("When will you come back?")
"A week," he replied, watching her face closely.
He could see the disappointment in her eyes, even if she was trying hard to mask it.
Suman felt a strange heaviness in her chest.
She didn't know why his leaving affected her so much, but it did.
It was irrational, unexplainable, but the thought of not seeing him for a week made her heart sink deeper.
Amay stepped closer, noticing the way her eyes darted away from his, as if trying to hide something.
"Sumi," he said softly, his tone laced with guilt. "I'm so sorry. Maine tumhe pehle nahi bataya kyunki mujhe khud bhi aaj hi pata chala."
("I'm so sorry. I didn't tell you earlier because I just found out today myself.")
Suman shook her head, forcing a small smile.
"It's okay," she said, though her voice cracked slightly.
Amay frowned, his guilt deepening. "I know you're upset, but mera jaana zaroori hai," he explained, his voice gentle.
("I know you're upset, but I really need to go.")
"I understand," she said quickly, wanting to assure him that she didn't blame him.
But understanding didn't make it easier for her heart, which was refusing to let go, though she didn't know why.
Amay took another step closer, his gaze softening as he looked at her. "Sumi," he said, his voice lower now, "jo main ab karne wala hoon, uske liye mujhe maaf nahi karogi. Issliye pehle hi sorry bol raha hoon."
("Sumi, what I'm about to do is something you won't forgive me for. That's why I'm apologizing in advance.")
She blinked up at him, confused, her heart skipping a beat at his words.
Before she could ask what he meant, he cupped her cheeks with both hands, his touch gentle yet firm.
Suman felt goosebumps erupt on her skin, her body reacting before her mind could catch up.
And then, he leaned in and pressed a soothing kiss on her forehead.
Her breath hitched, and she froze, stunned.
His lips lingered there for a moment, warm and comforting, as if he was pouring all his unspoken feelings into that single gesture.
Suman's eyes fluttered shut, and she found herself savoring the moment despite her racing heart.
When he finally pulled away, he didn't say anything.
His eyes searched hers for a reaction, but Suman was too stunned to speak.
She looked up at him, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it.
"Take care of yourself, okay?" he said softly, his thumb brushing her cheek gently.
Suman nodded wordlessly, unable to find her voice.
Amay gave her a small smile, picked up his luggage, and walked out of the room, leaving her standing there, her world slightly tilted and her heart inexplicably full.
ââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
Suman sat on the edge of their bed, the white shirt of Amay draped over her, the fabric clinging to her like his presence always did.
She held his photo in her hands, staring at it with a mix of affection and frustration.
The emptiness in her chest seemed to grow larger with each passing second.
"Bahut bure ho aap?" she muttered to his photo, her voice tinged with a sadness she couldn't explain.
("You're very bad?")
It had been three days since he left for Australia, and each of those days had felt like an eternity.
The loneliness of the house had become suffocating.
Tara was around, trying to keep her company, but it wasn't the same.
No one could fill the space that Amay had left behind.
His laughter, his presence, even the faint scent of his cologne that lingered on his shirts... it all haunted her.
She missed him more than she could put into words.
It wasn't just the physical absence.
It was everything about him-the way he made her feel safe, the warmth of his touch, the quiet comfort of his steady presence.
She'd never realized how much she had come to rely on him until he was gone.
Sitting on the bed, she clutched his shirt tighter, a mix of emotions swirling inside her.
Her heart ached with a longing she didn't understand.
Why did his absence feel like a part of her was missing?
Her eyes filled with tears, and she whispered, "Main aapko bahut miss kar rahi hoon... sirf teen din hue hai aapko gaye hue, lekin aisa lag raha hai ki 3 saal ho gaye hain. Kyun mujhe aapki yaad sata rahi hai? Kyun main aapko dekhne ke liye itni bechain ho rahi hoon? Kyun main aapko har jagah mehsoos kar rahi hoon?"
("I miss you so much... it's only been three days since you left, but it feels like three years have passed. Why do I keep missing you? Why am I so restless to see you? Why do I feel your presence everywhere?")
She sniffed, wiping her eyes, trying to fight back the emotions threatening to overwhelm her. "Kyun aap ne mujhe itna bigad diya hai ki mujhe aapke bina jeena hi nahi aata," she continued softly, the words flowing from her lips without control. "Maine bahut koshish ki thi aapse nafrat karne ki, aapko irritate karne ki... lekin nahi ho pa raha. I am missing you, Amay. Jaldi waapis aaiye..."
("Why have you spoiled me so much that I can't live without you? I tried so hard to hate you, to irritate you... but I just couldn't. I am missing you, Amay. Please come back soon...")
As she spoke, she felt a strange tightness in her chest.
She had tried so hard to keep her feelings in check, to maintain the distance that seemed to make sense, but now she realized it was all a facade.
Her heart, her emotions, they had all betrayed her.
She was in love with him.
The realization hit her like a wave, overwhelming and undeniable.
She had tried to deny it, to resist the closeness that had slowly crept up on her.
But now, she understood.
The way he cared for her, listened to her, respected her, and loved her in the most gentle, patient way-it had all turned her world upside down.
She hadn't seen it coming, but now she couldn't deny it.
"I love you, Amay," she whispered through her tears, a bittersweet smile spreading across her face.
"I love you."
She hugged his shirt to her chest, her eyes closed, as if trying to hold onto him, to feel his warmth once again.
The tears flowed freely now, not from sadness, but from the joy of finally understanding what he meant to her, and what he had made her feel.
In that moment, Suman knew that their forced, circumstantial marriage had slowly transformed into something beautiful.
It was no longer just a bond of duty, but of love.
And she was falling deeper into that love with every passing day.
ââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
Amay sat in his office in Australia, the weight of the workload pressing down on him.
He was trying to focus, but something was bothering him.
A sudden, annoying hiccup broke his concentration, causing him to pause and grab his water bottle.
He took a sip, hoping it would stop, but the hiccups persisted.
Frustrated, he muttered to himself.
"What the hell?" He tried holding his breath, but the hiccups wouldn't stop.
Irritation began to build in him.
What was causing this?
His phone suddenly rang, and he glanced at the screen.
The caller ID read "Digvijay."
"Ha, bol," Amay answered, his voice a little tense, still distracted by the hiccups.
("Yeah, speak.")
On the other end, Digvijay's voice came through with concern. "Tujhe kya hua? Hichki kyun aa rahi hai?"
("What happened to you? Why are you getting hiccups?")
Amay groaned in annoyance. "Pata nahi. Pani bhi piya, lekin hichki ruk nahi rahi."
("I don't know. I drank water, but the hiccups won't stop.")
Digvijay chuckled lightly. "Aww, kya pata main tujhe miss kar raha hoon?"
("Aww, maybe I'm missing you.")
Amay rolled his eyes. "In your nightmares. Itne bure din nahi aaye mere ki tu mujhe yaad kare aur mujhe hichki aa jaye."
("In your nightmares. My days aren't that bad that you would miss me and I would get hiccups.")
Digvijay's laughter continued. "Mere alawa aur kaun yaad karega?"
("Who else would remember you, if not me?")
Amay paused, his expression softening. "Why? I have maa, papa, and Suman."
As soon as he said her name, the hiccups suddenly stopped.
His eyes widened in realization.
A smile slowly crept onto his lips.
Suman was missing him.
Digvijay noticed the pause and teased, "Kahan chala gaya, Mars pe ya Pluto pe?"
("Where did you go, to Mars or Pluto?")
Amay snapped back to the present, a smile still playing at his lips. "Filhaal toh Australia mein hoon."
("Right now, I'm in Australia.")
Digvijay's voice rose in surprise. "Australia mein hai tu, aur mujhe bataya tak nahi?"
("You're in Australia, and you didn't even tell me?")
Amay rolled his eyes, half-amused. "Kyun bataun? Tu biwi hai meri?"
("Why should I tell you? Are you my wife?")
Digvijay's laughter filled the line. "Biwi nahi, best friend hoon tera."
("I'm not your wife, I'm your best friend.")
Amay sighed. "Main phone kaatun, ya tu kuch aur kehna chahega?"
("Should I hang up, or do you want to say something else?")
Digvijay, still laughing, got serious. "Aacha sunn, main iss liye call kiya tha-hotel construction ke reports dene ke liye. Everything's ready, and I must say, Agrawal ne kaafi hardwork kiya hai."
("Okay, listen, I called to give you the reports of the hotel construction. Everything's ready, and I must say, Agrawal worked really hard.")
Amay nodded. "Okay, main aata hoon, tab baat karte hain."
("Okay, I'll come over, we'll talk then.")
Digvijay agreed. "Okay."
Before ending the call, Amay's voice softened slightly. "Acha sunn, 4 din aur lagenge. Please tab tak ghar mein sabka khayal rakhna."
("Okay, listen, it will take 4 more days. Please take care of everyone at home until then.")
Digvijay grinned. "Okay, boss. I'll do that."
Amay chuckled and cut the call.
Leaning back in his chair, he murmured to himself, "Don't worry, Sumi. I'll be there with you soon. Bas 4 din aur. Phir poochunga ki tum mujhe itna miss kyun kar rahi thi..."
("Don't worry, Sumi. I'll be there with you soon. Just 4 more days. Then I'll ask why you've been missing me so much...")
A small laugh escaped him as he resumed his work, a sense of warmth spreading in his chest.
The realization hit him hard-Suman had been missing him just as much as he had been missing her.
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