By now… things had changed.
Not in a way anyone could point out.
But enough for both of them to feel it.
Mornings weren’t silent anymore.
“Good morning,” Ira chirped, dropping into the chair.
“…Morning,” Aarav replied, already keeping her tea ready.
She raised an eyebrow.
“Wow… without asking?”
“Routine,” he said casually.
“Accha… routine,” she smirked, hiding her smile.
Evenings had become… familiar.
She talked.
He listened.
She laughed.
He… almost laughed.
And that’s when…
Something unexpected entered their perfectly balanced world.
“Dinner pe guest aa raha hai,” Aarav’s mom announced.
“Kaun?” Ira asked.
“Aarav ka friend. Office se.”
That evening—
The doorbell rang.
A tall, confident guy walked in.
“Hey Aarav!” he smiled.
“Hi, Kabir,” Aarav nodded.
Kabir Mehta.
Charming. Talkative. Easy-going.
Everything Aarav wasn’t.
“And this is…?” Kabir looked at Ira.
“My wife,” Aarav said simply.
Kabir smiled warmly,
“Hi, I’ve heard nothing about you.”
Ira laughed instantly.
“Same here.”
Dinner started.
And within minutes—
Kabir and Ira were talking like old friends.
“Wait, you write stories?? That’s actually so cool!” Kabir said.
“Finally someone appreciates 😭,” Ira replied dramatically.
Aarav stayed quiet.
Watching.
“Unlike someone…” Ira added, glancing at Aarav.
Kabir chuckled,
“Let me guess… Mr. Serious here?”
“Exactly.”
Aarav didn’t react.
But something inside him…
Shifted.
Days passed.
Kabir started visiting more often.
Sometimes for work.
Sometimes… just like that.
And every time—
The same thing happened.
Ira laughed.
Kabir joked.
The house felt louder.
Lighter.
And Aarav?
He stayed in the background.
Silent.
Observing.
One evening—
Ira was showing Kabir something on her phone.
Both of them sitting close.
Laughing.
“Yeh dekho—this is the scene I wrote,” she said.
Kabir leaned closer.
“Damn, that’s actually good.”
“THANK YOU,” she said loudly,
“finally someone with taste.”
Aarav, standing across the room, heard that.
And for the first time…
It didn’t feel normal.
Later that night—
“Tumhe Kabir pasand hai?” Aarav asked suddenly.
Ira blinked.
“Huh?”
“You seem… comfortable.”
She shrugged.
“He’s easy to talk to.”
A pause.
“Unlike you,” she added playfully.
That should’ve been normal.
A joke.
Something light.
But it wasn’t.
“…Good,” Aarav said quietly.
And walked away.
The next few days—
Something felt off.
Aarav spoke less.
Even less than before.
“Tum theek ho?” Ira asked one day.
“Yes.”
“Sure?”
“Yes.”
“Tum ajeeb behave kar rahe ho.”
“I’m not.”
But he was.
Because every time Kabir laughed with her…
Every time she smiled at him…
Something inside Aarav tightened.
Annoying.
Uncomfortable.
Unfamiliar.
One evening—
Kabir called.
“Hey Ira, I found a café you’ll love. Wanna check it out?”
Ira hesitated for a second.
Then—
“Yeah, sounds fun.”
She got ready quickly.
Light makeup.
Simple outfit.
Happy.
As she walked out—
“I’m going out,” she told Aarav.
“With Kabir?” he asked.
“Yes.”
A pause.
“…Okay.”
She left.
Door closed.
Silence.
Aarav stood there.
For a long time.
Then suddenly—
He picked up his keys.
Meanwhile—
Ira laughed as Kabir said something stupid.
“You’re actually fun to be around,” he said.
“Of course I am 😌”
And then—
She saw him.
Aarav.
Standing at the entrance.
Both of them froze.
“I… uh… you came?” Ira said, confused.
Aarav looked at her.
Then at Kabir.
Then back at her.
“…You forgot your phone,” he said, holding it out.
She blinked.
“Oh.”
She took it.
“Thanks…”
But neither of them moved.
Kabir cleared his throat,
“Uh… wanna join?”
Aarav looked at him.
“…No.”
But his eyes…
Stayed on Ira.
For a moment too long.
That night—
Ira couldn’t sleep.
“Why did it feel… weird?” she whispered.
Across the room—
Aarav sat awake.
Thinking.
Overthinking.
“Why did I go there…?” he muttered.
A pause.
“…And why didn’t I like seeing them together?”
Silence answered him.
Because somewhere…
Between chai, random talks, and quiet moments…
This wasn’t just adjustment anymore.
This was something else.
Something dangerous.
Something that felt a lot like…
Jealousy.
The house felt… different.
Not quiet.
Not loud.
Just… heavy.
Ira noticed it first.
Of course she did.
Because she was the one who always filled the silence.
And now…
Even she didn’t feel like talking.
Aarav had gone back to being distant.
More than before.
Cold replies.
No eye contact.
No small moments.
“Chai?” she asked one evening.
“Hmm.”
That was it.
“Tum kuch bolte kyun nahi ho?” she finally asked.
“I don’t have anything to say.”
“Tumhare paas kabhi kuch hota bhi hai kya kehne ke liye?” she snapped.
Silence.
“Great,” she laughed bitterly,
“same old Aarav.”
That night—
Kabir called again.
“Hey… you okay? You sounded off yesterday.”
Ira hesitated.
“Yeah… I’m fine.”
“Doesn’t sound like it.”
A pause.
Then softly—
“Let’s meet?”
She looked across the room.
Aarav was there.
Working.
Ignoring.
“…Okay,” she said.
Next evening—
She was getting ready again.
Not excited.
Not exactly sad.
Just… tired.
“Phir jaa rahi ho?” Aarav’s voice came from behind.
She turned.
“Yes.”
“With him?”
“Yes.”
A pause.
Then—
“Don’t go.”
Ira froze.
“…What?”
“Don’t go,” he repeated.
For a second…
Her heart actually skipped.
But then—
“Why?” she asked.
Silence.
Aarav didn’t answer.
And something inside her…
Broke.
“Exactly,” she laughed softly,
“tumhe khud nahi pata.”
She picked up her bag.
“Tumhe farak hi nahi padta, Aarav.”
“That’s not true.”
“Then what is true?” she asked, her voice shaking now.
“Tum kuch bolte hi nahi ho!”
“I don’t need to explain everything.”
“HAAN, kyunki tum feel hi nahi karte!” she snapped.
That hit.
Aarav’s jaw tightened.
“You think I don’t feel anything?”
“I don’t know what you feel!” she said, tears forming,
“because you never show it!”
Silence.
Heavy.
Painful.
“Main thak gayi hoon,” she whispered.
That was new.
Ira.
Tired.
“Main try karti hoon… har roz… tumse baat karne ki… connect karne ki…”
her voice broke,
“but you’re always just… there.”
Aarav didn’t move.
Didn’t speak.
And that hurt more.
“Forget it,” she wiped her tears quickly,
“main jaa rahi hoon.”
She left.
Door closed.
And this time…
The silence wasn’t peaceful.
It was empty.
Hours later—
She came back.
Late.
Aarav was still awake.
Neither of them spoke.
She walked past him.
“Ira.”
She stopped.
But didn’t turn.
“…Did you enjoy?” he asked.
That did it.
She turned sharply.
“Seriously? THAT’S what you’re asking?”
He frowned.
“What?”
“You don’t get to act like this!” she snapped,
“tumhe problem hai toh bolo!”
“I already told you not to go.”
“Reason???” she almost shouted,
“ek reason de do, main kabhi nahi jaungi!”
Silence.
Aarav had nothing.
And that was the problem.
Her eyes filled again.
“See?” she whispered,
“tumhe farak hi nahi padta…”
This time…
She didn’t wait.
She walked into the room.
Locked the door.
And broke down.
For the first time since marriage…
Ira cried.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
Just… quietly.
Because somewhere along the way…
This had stopped being “just marriage.”
And started meaning something.
Something she didn’t understand.
Outside—
Aarav stood there.
Still.
Silent.
But inside…
Everything was loud.
Her words.
Her tears.
Her pain.
“Main thak gayi hoon…”
He closed his eyes.
Frustrated.
Confused.
“…Why does it matter?” he whispered.
And then…
The truth hit him.
Hard.
Because if it didn’t matter…
He wouldn’t feel like this.
He wouldn’t care where she goes.
With whom she laughs.
Why she’s upset.
He wouldn’t feel this… heavy.
A long pause.
“…It matters,” he admitted quietly.
And that scared him.
Because now…
There was no going back.
