chapter 33
Chapter 33 - A Routine That Didn't Work Anymore
The next morning arrived too quietly.
Aarav woke at six.
Not because he had slept well.
Because habit had become more reliable than rest.
For a long moment, he stayed where he was, staring at the ceiling with the dull heaviness of interrupted sleep pressing behind his eyes. The room was still. Too still.
He got up anyway.
Showered. Dressed. Buttoned his cuffs with the same practiced precision he always had.
Everything moved exactly as it was supposed to.
That was the problem.
By the time he stepped into the dining room, the table had already been set.
One plate.
One cup.
Breakfast laid out with quiet efficiency.
Exactly as it should have been.
Exactly as it had always been.
And yet Aarav stopped the moment he saw it.
His gaze lingered on the chair across from his.
Empty.
The place where she used to sit, hands curled loosely around her coffee, steam fading between her fingers while silence settled between them like something permanent.
He had spent months ignoring that silence.
Now he noticed the shape of it everywhere.
Aarav pulled out his chair.
Sat.
Looked once at the plate in front of him.
Then at the untouched place across from him.
For a strange moment, the room felt unfamiliar.
Not because anything had changed.
Because something had.
The coffee was wrong.
Too sweet.
He put it down after one sip.
The toast had gone cold too quickly.
Or maybe he had taken too long to reach for it.
Either way, after a few silent minutes, Aarav set the cutlery down and stood again.
He left without finishing breakfast.
By the time he reached the office, irritation had already settled beneath his skin.
It stayed there through the morning.
Through meetings.
Through numbers and contracts and voices speaking directly to him.
He answered when necessary.
Signed what was needed.
Corrected what required correcting.
And still-
something remained off.
By noon, his assistant was standing in his office doorway, carefully neutral.
"Sir, the lunch meeting with Mehra has been moved to two."
Aarav nodded once without looking up.
"Fine."
A pause.
Then-
"Should I have something sent in?"
A simple question.
Routine.
Normal.
Aarav opened his mouth to answer.
Stopped.
Because for one brief, irrational second-
he almost said:
No. I'll eat at home.
The thought came so suddenly it irritated him on instinct.
He looked up, expression sharpening.
"No."
His assistant nodded and left immediately.
The office fell silent again.
Aarav leaned back in his chair and looked at the files spread across his desk without seeing any of them.
Home.
The thought stayed longer than it should have.
Not because he wanted to be there.
Because for the first time-
it no longer felt like a place waiting for him.
That evening, he returned earlier than usual.
Not deliberately.
That was what he told himself.
The house was quiet when he stepped inside.
No lights in the balcony.
No faint sound from the study.
No movement beyond the quiet shift of staff somewhere in the distance.
Aarav loosened his tie and stood in the entryway for a second too long.
Waiting.
For what, he still couldn't have said.
The silence that answered him felt immediate.
And wrong.
He walked through the house anyway.
The dining room.
Empty.
The living room.
Still.
The balcony doors were shut.
He passed the study and paused only when he realized the lamp inside was off.
That was new.
He moved again before the thought settled.
By the time he reached the hallway outside her room, his steps slowed.
The door stood half open.
Aarav stopped there without meaning to.
The room inside was neat.
Almost untouched.
The bed made.
The curtains half drawn.
The air still carrying the faintest trace of something familiar-jasmine and paper and the quiet, clean scent that had once lingered around her without him ever noticing enough to name it.
Now he noticed it immediately.
That irritated him more than anything else had all day.
Aarav stepped inside.
His gaze moved across the room.
The dresser.
Half empty.
The bookshelf.
Thinner than before.
The table by the window.
Clear.
Too clear.
He knew, distantly, that she had packed.
He had seen the suitcase.
Watched her leave pieces of her life folded into careful silence.
But standing here now, faced with what was left behind-
the absence looked deliberate.
Measured.
Final.
His jaw tightened.
Aarav turned and left the room immediately.
But that night, long after the lights were off and the house had settled into silence again, sleep still did not come easily.
Because for the first time-
routine had failed him.
And in its place, there was only absence.