Suman paced the length of the living room, her eyes darting to the clock every few seconds.

She clutched her phone tightly, her fingers trembling as she dialed Amay’s number for the third time.

No answer.

Her heart sank.

She tried Digvijay’s number next, but it too was unreachable.

Anirudh and Tara exchanged glances from the sofa.

Tara placed a comforting hand on Anirudh’s arm. “Look at her. She’s so restless,” Tara whispered, her voice filled with concern and a trace of affection.

“She cares,” Anirudh replied softly. “But she’s too stubborn to admit it outright.”

Suman’s frustration grew with every passing minute.

A thousand thoughts raced through her mind.

What if something happened?

Why isn’t Amay answering?

Why is Digvijay’s phone off?

She shook her head, trying to push away the worst of her fears.

Just then, the faint sound of screeching tires echoed from outside.

Her head snapped toward the door, and her heartbeat quickened.

Barely a second passed before she darted to the entrance, throwing the door open.

“Amay!”

But the sight before her froze her in place. Amay stood there, his hand bandaged, a similar wrap on Digvijay’s wrist.

A small cut adorned Amay’s forehead, with a patch of gauze covering it.

Suman’s breath hitched, and tears welled up in her eyes.

Amay’s eyes met hers, and for a moment, his world stopped.

He hadn’t realized just how much he missed her until this moment.

All week, he had pushed himself to finish his work, yearning to be with her again.

Now, standing in front of her, her tearful gaze meeting his, he felt an overwhelming sense of relief and peace.

But just as his lips parted to say something, Suman turned abruptly and ran back inside the house.

Amay’s heart sank.

He stood there, stunned, his mind racing.

What just happened?

Did I upset her?

Digvijay, who had been silently observing the scene, frowned in confusion.

He turned to Amay, shrugging dramatically. “Okay, what was that? She was practically counting the seconds for you to come home, and now…” He gestured toward the door where Suman had disappeared. “She just left?”

Amay remained silent, his gaze fixed on the door, his heart aching with uncertainty.

Tara, who had witnessed everything from the window, sighed softly, her motherly intuition kicking in. “Anirudh,” she whispered, “give her a moment. She’s overwhelmed. Let her sort through her feelings.”

Anirudh nodded knowingly. “And Amay?”

Tara smiled faintly. “He’ll figure it out. He always does.”

Inside, Suman’s steps faltered as she reached the living room.

She pressed her trembling hands against her chest, willing herself to calm down, but the tears kept flowing.

The sight of Amay, hurt and bandaged, flashed in her mind, and her heart ached unbearably.

Why didn’t he tell me?

Why does he always try to hide his pain from me? she thought, frustration mixing with anguish.

She collapsed onto the couch, burying her face in her hands.

She wanted to run back to him, to hold him, to scold him for scaring her so much.

But something stopped her—fear.

Fear that her concern, her emotions, might overwhelm him.

Fear that she might not be able to handle seeing him in pain and holding it together.

Amay, meanwhile, stood frozen at the doorway.

Digvijay placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking him out of his trance. “Go after her,” he said simply, his voice tinged with understanding.

Amay nodded, stepping inside.

His footsteps were hesitant as he approached the living room.

His heart was pounding, and his thoughts were a tangled mess.

He stopped when he saw her sitting on the couch, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

His chest tightened.

He hated seeing her like this.

He hated that he was the reason for her tears.

“Suman,” he called softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

She didn’t look up.

She clenched her fists, trying to compose herself, but the sound of his voice broke her resolve.

“Suman,” he repeated, this time closer, kneeling in front of her.

His hand hesitated before reaching out to touch her arm gently.

She finally looked up, her tear-streaked face meeting his concerned gaze.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

The silence was heavy with unsaid words and shared emotions.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she finally whispered, her voice trembling. “Why didn’t you call me when you got hurt? Do you have any idea how scared I was?”

Amay’s heart broke at the raw vulnerability in her voice. “I didn’t want to worry you,” he admitted, guilt evident in his tone. “It wasn’t a big deal, really. Just a small accident on the way back.”

“A small accident?” she snapped, her tears flowing freely again. “Do you think seeing you like this doesn’t hurt me? Do you think I can just ignore it?”

Her words pierced through him, and he felt a pang of regret. “Suman, I—”

She interrupted him, her voice rising, “Do you know how it feels to wait for you, to call you again and again and not get an answer? To imagine the worst and feel helpless? Don’t ever do that to me again, Amay. Don’t you dare.”

Her outburst left Amay stunned.

He reached for her hands, holding them firmly despite her attempt to pull away. “I’m sorry,” he said earnestly, his eyes locking with hers. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I promise, I’ll never let it happen again.”

She searched his eyes for sincerity, and what she saw made her anger waver.

Instead, the overwhelming relief of having him back, safe and sound, took over.

She flung her arms around him, holding him tightly as if afraid he’d disappear.

Amay froze for a moment before wrapping his arms around her gently, careful not to hurt her with his bandaged hand. “I’m here, Suman,” he whispered against her hair. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Behind them, Digvijay watched the scene unfold, a small smile playing on his lips. He quietly stepped back, giving them the space they needed.

SUMAN'S POV

My heart raced as I entered the kitchen, my breaths coming in shallow gasps.

The plate I had carried down now rested on the counter, but my trembling hands betrayed my composure.

I pressed a hand to my chest, feeling the erratic thumping of my heart beneath my palm.

What just happened up there? I thought, closing my eyes and leaning against the counter for support.

My mind replayed the scene—the way Amay had looked at me, his eyes heavy with emotions and something more, something I couldn’t ignore.

The memory of his lips brushing against my fingers sent another wave of heat coursing through me.

I shook my head, trying to calm myself, but it was futile.

My body still reacted to him, my skin tingling where his touch had lingered.

I placed my palms on the cold marble surface of the counter, hoping it would cool the fire that had ignited within me.

This man… I thought, my lips curling into a shy smile.

He knows exactly what he’s doing to me, doesn’t he?

That look in his eyes, the way he didn’t stop sucking on my fingers, and that faint chuckle when I ran…

My face flushed deeper as I recalled the way his intense gaze seemed to strip me bare, leaving me vulnerable yet yearning for more.

I exhaled shakily, trying to focus on my breathing.

I shouldn’t have fed him with my hands, I thought ruefully, my fingers brushing against my lips absentmindedly.

What was I thinking?

But deep down, I knew.

I wanted to take care of him, to be close to him after all the worry and fear I had felt in his absence.

I hadn’t anticipated how it would affect me, how his quiet intensity would undo me completely.

My mind wandered back to the way he had leaned into my touch, his lips parting slightly as he took the morsel, his warm breath brushing against my fingertips.

When he had sucked gently, his tongue grazing my skin, it had sent a jolt straight to my core.

I had clenched my thighs instinctively, trying to suppress the ache that his actions had stirred.

I placed my hands on my burning cheeks, willing myself to regain control.

He’s teasing me, I thought, my embarrassment mingling with a flicker of annoyance.

He knows exactly what he’s doing, and he’s enjoying it.

As I stood there, lost in my swirling emotions, the sound of footsteps approaching made me freeze.

My breath hitched when I heard Amay’s voice, low and teasing.

“Suman,” he called softly, his tone laced with mischief.

I turned around slowly, my wide eyes meeting his.

He was leaning casually against the doorframe, his bandaged hand resting on his side as if the minor injury wasn’t bothering him at all.

His smirk, however, told a different story—one of pure, unfiltered amusement.

“Why did you run off like that?” he asked, his voice deceptively innocent. “I thought you weren’t going to leave my side.”

My cheeks flamed, and I turned away, pretending to busy myself with cleaning the already spotless counter. “I… I just needed to bring the plate down,” I mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

Amay chuckled softly, stepping closer. “Hmm, is that all?” he asked, his voice dropping slightly, sending a shiver down her spine. “Because you seemed awfully flustered when you left.”

I could feel the heat radiating off him as he closed the distance between them.

My heart hammered in my chest, and I gripped the counter tightly to steady myself.

“Amay, you should be resting,” I said quickly, my voice a little higher than usual.

“Oh, I will,” he replied, his tone playful yet laced with a deeper intensity. “But not before I thank my wife properly for taking such good care of me.”

My breath caught as his fingers brushed lightly against my arm, his touch sending sparks through me.

I turned to face him, my eyes wide with a mixture of shyness and something else—an unspoken longing that I couldn’t hide.

Amay smiled, his eyes locking onto me. “You’re adorable when you’re trying to act unaffected,” he murmured, his voice like a caress.

I swallowed hard, my mind racing for a way to escape the magnetic pull he seemed to have on me.

But as his fingers tilted my chin upward, forcing me to meet his gaze, I knew there was no escaping this moment.

For now, all I could do was surrender to the feelings he stirred within me—the overwhelming love, the teasing desire, and the undeniable connection that bound us together.

SUMAN'S POV ENDS

Amay stepped closer to Suman, who stood rooted in her spot, her hands clutching the fabric of her saree nervously.

Before she could process what was happening, Amay bent down and effortlessly lifted her into his arms in a bridal style.

"Amay!" she shrieked in surprise, her eyes widening as her hands instinctively reached out to hold onto him. "You’re injured! What are you doing?"

Amay smiled, a soft yet mischievous curve to his lips. “Not for you, darling,” he said, his voice low and reassuring.

Suman’s heart skipped a beat, her pulse racing at his words.

She felt herself melting under the intensity of his gaze as she wrapped her arms around his neck for support.

Her head rested lightly against his shoulder as he carried her upstairs to their room, his movements deliberate yet gentle.

Once inside, Amay gently placed her on her feet and turned to close the door behind them.

Suman, still flustered, didn’t know where to look or what to say.

She nervously fisted her saree, her gaze flickering everywhere except to him.

Amay turned back toward her, his eyes filled with warmth and something deeper, something that made her heart race uncontrollably. “You look so beautiful in this red saree,” he said softly.

Suman’s cheeks flushed as she managed a timid, “Thank you.”

He took a step closer, and she stood her ground, unable to move.

The air between them felt electric, her senses heightened.

He was so close now, mere inches separating them.

She could feel his breath brushing against her skin, sending shivers down her spine.

Gently, he reached up and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his fingers grazing her cheek in a way that made goosebumps erupt on her skin.

Her eyes fluttered shut, her heart thudding loudly in her chest.

His fingers traced the side of her face with a tenderness that made her breath hitch.

Taking her hands in his, he slowly brought them to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to her palms.

The warmth of his lips and the sensation of his touch made her entire body tremble.

Amay’s voice, low and filled with emotion, broke the silence. “Tumhe jab pehli baar dekha tha, toh tumhe dekhta reh gaya tha. Uss din ek ehsaas jaga ke chali gayi tum. Uss din tumhari payal vaha reh gayi thi.” He paused, his voice dipping into something more profound. “That was the day I prayed to God ki tum muhjse vaapis takrao. And we did meet again. Uss din ke baad se, you started to become something I craved for. Main nahi jaanta ki woh pehli nazar ka pyaar tha ya nahi, lekin itna zaroor jaanta hoon ki main tumse bahut pyaar karta hoon.”

("The first time I saw you, I couldn't take my eyes off you. That day, you awakened a feeling within me and left. That day, your anklet was left behind there. That was the day I prayed to God for you to cross my path again. And we did meet again. Since that day, you started to become something I deeply longed for. I don’t know if it was love at first sight or not, but I do know one thing for certain — I love you deeply.")

Suman opened her eyes, tears welling up as she heard his heartfelt confession.

She had heard him say these words before, but something about hearing them now, in this intimate moment, made her heart ache with a strange, beautiful intensity.

Amay cupped her face, his thumbs gently brushing away the tears that began to stream down her cheeks. “Don’t cry, please,” he whispered, his voice breaking slightly. “Your tears hurt me the most.”

She shook her head, trying to suppress her sobs. “Main nahi jaanti ki main itni lucky kaise hoon ki aap meri zindagi mein hain,” she said through her tears. “Aap mujhe itna pyaar karte hain, jabki main aapke pyaar ke layak nahi hoon.”

("I don’t know how I’m so lucky to have you in my life. You love me so much, even though I’m not worthy of your love.")

Amay’s brows furrowed, and he shook his head firmly. “Suman, agar iss duniya mein koi mere pyaar ke layak hai, toh woh sirf tum ho. Tumhare sivaa aur koi nahi.”

("Suman, if there’s anyone in this world who is worthy of my love, it’s only you. No one else but you.")

Fresh tears spilled from her eyes as she whispered, “Maine aapko kitna kuch kaha, aapko hurt kiya, phir bhi aap mujhse pyaar karte hain.”

("I've said so much to you, hurt you, yet you still love me.")

“I love you,” he said without hesitation, his voice resolute. “And I will always love you, no matter what.”

“Aapko mujhpe gussa nahi aata?” she asked softly, her voice filled with wonder.

("Don't you ever get angry with me?")

He chuckled lightly. “Mujhe tumpe gussa karna nahi aata,” he admitted. “I don’t know how to get angry with you.”

("I don't know how to get angry with you. I just can't.")

Her lips trembled as she asked, “Aap mujhse itna pyaar kyun karte hain?”

("Why do you love me so much?")

Amay smiled tenderly. “Pata nahi,” he said, his voice filled with sincerity. “Koi wajah nahi hai mere paas. Main bas tumse pyaar karta hoon.”

("I don't know. I have no reason. I just love you.")

At his words, Suman broke down, sobbing harder as she buried her face in his chest.

He pulled her into his embrace, his arms wrapping around her securely.

She fisted his shirt, clinging to him as if she never wanted to let go.

“Why are you crying, Suman?” he asked softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Is it because of the confession? I’m sorry, main kabhi dobara—”

(“Why are you crying, Suman? Is it because of the confession? I’m sorry, I’ll never say it again—”)

He stopped mid-sentence when she pulled back slightly and slapped his chest lightly. “Tell me you love me every day,” she demanded, her voice trembling but determined. “I want to hear it every day.”

Amay stared at her in surprise before his expression softened into a smile.

She lifted her chin to look at him and said, “I love you, Amay. Nahi jaanti kaise aur kab, lekin mujhe aapse pyaar ho gaya hai.”

("I love you, Amay. I don't know how or when, but I have fallen in love with you.")

His heart stopped for a moment as the words he had been longing to hear finally spilled from her lips.

She loves me.

The realization hit him like a tidal wave, and his heart swelled with a happiness he had never known before.

“Suman,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear that.”

He pulled her into his arms again, holding her close as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

This, he thought, this is the best day of my life.

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