Advik had spent the evening watching Sakshi from a distance. He saw the way she moved, quietly, efficiently, yet with a dullness over her every gesture. She was like a ghost in her own home, treading carefully around him, afraid to trigger his discomfort.

That night, after Satvik had drifted off to sleep, Advik didn't head straight to the guest room. Instead, he waited for Sakshi in the living room. When she walked out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron, she stopped short, surprised to see him still there.

"Advik? Aap soye nahi?"

(You’ve not slept?)

She asked softly.

"Sakshi, baitho please. Mujhe kuch baat karni hai."

(Please sit. I wanted to talk.)

He said, gesturing to the sofa beside him. She sat down, keeping a respectful distance, her fingers nervously twisting the end of her dupatta. Advik took a deep breath.

He had been thinking about his mother's words. He looked at Sakshi, really looked at her, and saw the exhaustion of a woman who was mourning a man who was sitting right in front of her.

"I've been thinking."

Advik started, his voice low.

"Mujhe kuch yaad nahi hai, Sakshi. Main jhoot nahi bolunga. Mere liye ye ghar, ye rishta... sab naya hai. But I see you every day. I see how much you do for Satvik, and how much you're hurting because of me."

(I don’t remember anything, Sakshi. I will not lie. For me this house, this relationship…everything is new.)

Sakshi looked down, her lower lip trembling.

"I can't promise that my memory will come back tomorrow."

He continued, reaching out and, for the first time, voluntarily placing his hand over hers. She flinched in surprise but didn't pull away.

"But I don't want to live like a stranger anymore. I am willing to try, Sakshi. Hum purani baatein yaad nahi kar sakte, toh kya hua? Hum nayi yaadein toh bana sakte hain na?"

(We can’t remember old memories, so what? We can create new ones, right?)

The dam finally broke. Sakshi didn't just cry, she crumbled. She lunged forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest.

She sobbed with a raw emotion that told the story of the last month, the rejection, the fear, the loneliness of sleeping alone while her husband was just ten feet away.

"Mujhe laga... mujhe laga maine aapko hamesha ke liye kho diya."

(I thought…I thought I lost you forver.)

She wailed, her hands clutching his shirt as if he might vanish if she let go. Advik froze. His body went rigid, his instincts screaming at the sudden physical proximity.

He felt the heat of her tears through his shirt, and for a second, he wanted to pull back. But then, he looked down at her shaking shoulders. He remembered his promise.

Slowly, almost tentatively, he wrapped his arms around her. He pulled her close, resting his chin on the top of her head. He began to rub her back in that same rhythmic, circular motion he used for Satvik.

"Shh... ro mat, Sakshi. Main yahan hu."

(Shh…don’t cry. I am here.)

He whispered.

"I'm not going anywhere. We will figure this out. I promise, main koshish karunga."

(I promise, I’ll try.)

A month had passed since that night, and the air in the house had changed. The suffocating tension had been replaced by a gentle, budding friendship. Advik had taken the biggest step two weeks ago. He had moved his pillows back to the master bedroom.

Sharing a bed was still a bit strange for him, but he no longer felt the urge to run away. They didn't cuddle yet, they kept to their respective sides.

Every night, once the house was silent and Satvik was tucked, they would lie in the dark, the moonlight filtering through the curtains. This had become their ritual. Advik would turn on his side, looking at the silhouette of her face, and ask for a story.

"Aaj kya batau?"

(What should I tell today?)

Sakshi asked one night, her voice hushed and sweet.

"Anything. Tell me what kind of a husband I was."

Advik said.

"Was I strict? Boring?"

Sakshi laughed, a genuine, light sound that made Advik's heart thump in a way he couldn't explain.

"Bilkul nahi."

(Not at all.)

She said, turning to face him.

"You were... very caring. Jab aap chutti par aate the, aap mujhe kitchen mein jaane hi nahi dete balance karne ke liye. You were very attentive. Aapko meri har pasand pata thi. Even my favorite earrings, you would notice if I changed them."

(When you came on holidays, you did not let me enter the kitchen, to balance….You knew all of my likes.)

Advik smiled, trying to imagine that version of himself.

"Sounds like a good guy."

"He was the best."

She whispered. There was a long pause. The silence grew thick, charged with a different kind of energy. Advik felt a sudden, daring curiosity. He shifted a little closer, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"And... humare beech baaki cheezein kaisi thi?"

(And…how were the other things between us?)

Sakshi blinked.

"Baaki cheezein?"

(Other things?)

"You know..."

He said, his voice turning husky.

"Humari personal life. Was I... were we good together in that way?"

(Our personal life.)

Even in the dim light, he could see the instant change. Sakshi's eyes widened, and a deep, red blush swept across her cheeks, reaching all the way to her neck. She looked away, suddenly finding the pattern on the pillowcase very interesting.

"Advik... yeh kya puch rahe hain aap?"

(Advik…what are you asking?)

She murmured, her voice bashful.

"I want to know, Sakshi. I want to know everything I've forgotten."

He teased gently, enjoying the way she was getting flustered. She bit her lip, hiding a shy smile.

"Aap... you were very...intense."

(You…)

She said, her voice so low he had to lean in to hear it.

"But also very careful. You always made sure I was comfortable. You were never in a hurry."

She looked at him for a split second, her eyes shimmering with a memory he couldn't share, before looking away again.

"Aap bahut pyaar karne wale husband the."

(You were a very loving husband.)

Advik felt a sudden rush of heat in his veins. The way she said 'intense', the way she looked so small and beautiful while blushing, it did something to him.

"I see."

He said, his voice thick. They didn't talk much after that. Sakshi eventually fell asleep, her breathing becoming steady and deep. But Advik stayed awake.

He lay there, staring at the ceiling, her words echoing in his mind. 

Intense but careful. 

He found himself looking at her sleeping form, noticing the curve of her shoulder and the way her hair fell across her face.

His mind began to wander, unbidden, into territories it hadn't visited since the accident. He wondered how it felt to hold her without the hesitation of a stranger. He wondered how his hands felt on her skin when they weren't just rubbing her back to calm her down. 

He imagined the intensity she spoke of, the passion that must have existed between them to produce a child like Satvik.

He felt a tightening in his chest, a physical reaction to his own thoughts. He realized with a start that he wasn't just trying anymore because of duty. He was genuinely, physically attracted to this woman.

He shifted, trying to quiet his racing heart. He wasn't ready to cross that line yet, but for the first time, he really wanted to.

He looked at her one last time before closing his eyes. 

I was a lucky man, wasn't I? he thought. And maybe, just maybe, I'm lucky all over again.

He fell asleep with the image of her blushing face burned into his mind, wondering how long it would be before he could truly call her his again.