77
Tuesday seemed to stretch endlessly, each minute crawling by as Vaani drove back to her home.
The city looked almost the same as when she had left it, the familiar streets bringing a strange comfort.
Pulling into her driveway, she noticed that the house was just as she had left it: everything in its place, undisturbed.
For a fleeting moment, she felt a small sense of relief, as if the order around her could somehow give her control over the rest of her scattered emotions.
She quickly tracked Dhruv's flight on her phone, her thumb hovering anxiously over the screen until she saw the tiny airplane icon land at its destination. A breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding escaped her, and she muttered to herself, Finally.
Without wasting time, she went straight into the kitchen.
Cooking had become her way of channeling her nervous energy, and today was no different.
She chopped vegetables, stirred spices, and hummed lightly to herself, though there was a subtle tightness in her chest she couldn't ignore.
By the time the meal was ready, she carefully arranged it on the dining table and then carried the tray to the living room, setting it on the coffee table in front of the couch.
Sitting down beside it, she tried to push down the restlessness curling in her stomach. She watched the clock, her thoughts flitting between his flight, the missed days, and the tiny pang of frustration she couldn't seem to shake.
Before she could overthink any further, the sharp ring of the doorbell broke her train of thought. She jumped slightly, her heart skipping a beat, and ran to the door. Swinging it open, she let out a breathless, "Hiii!"
Dhruv was there, looking exhausted. His tie was loosened, and his shirt slightly crumpled from the long flight and the meetings he had been running through. "Hi, Vaani," he said tiredly, his voice low but threaded with warmth when he looked at her.
"How are you? How's everything?" she asked quickly, almost bouncing on the balls of her feet, eager to hear him speak and hoping to bridge the space that had felt so long.
"All good. Lots of meetings, early morning flights... very tired," he replied, his voice trailing slightly as he leaned against the door frame, rubbing the back of his neck. He tried to muster a smile, and she caught it, a fleeting flicker of the Dhruv she knew shining through the weariness.
Vaani's smile softened. "I made you lunch," she said, her hand gesturing toward the carefully arranged tray she had prepared.
Dhruv's eyes flickered toward the food, but all he managed was a small, tired shake of his head. "Vaani, I think I'm just going to rest," he said gently, almost apologetically, as if aware of the weight behind her hopeful expression.
"Oh," she replied softly, a subtle disappointment pulling at the edges of her voice. She nodded, letting the words hang there, unsaid, that maybe she had wanted him to notice more than just being tired.
"I'll have lunch once I'm awake," he added, giving her a small, faint smile, one that carried affection but also the exhaustion he couldn't seem to shake. She nodded again, this time trying to suppress the sting of feeling overlooked.
He moved past her and headed inside to take a shower, leaving Vaani standing near the doorway for a moment.
She watched the subtle way his shoulders slumped with fatigue, the quiet movements that showed just how drained he was.
She sank back onto the couch, crossing her arms loosely over her chest, and tried to busy herself with her own thoughts.
Minutes passed. She glanced at the clock, then at the tray she had set aside.
The food sat untouched, a symbol both of her care and the distance that had quietly settled between them in these past few days.
She tried to read a book, but her mind kept wandering, circling back to him.
He's tired... he's just tired, she repeated to herself, trying to dismiss the creeping feeling that perhaps he didn't notice her, or worse, didn't care.
The bathroom door finally opened, and Dhruv emerged, slightly refreshed but still heavy-eyed.
He moved with the practiced ease of someone who had been traveling and working non-stop, and before she could call to him, he made a beeline for the couch-and collapsed onto it.
He curled into a half-fetal position, pulling the blanket from the back of the sofa over himself.
Vaani sat quietly, watching him for a long moment.
His chest rose and fell with deep, even breaths, the exhaustion evident in every subtle movement.
Part of her wanted to wake him, to fuss over him and make him eat, to hear him laugh at something small and silly to break the tense quiet between them.
But the other part-the larger, quieter part-knew that if she did, he would just nod absently or murmur something, too tired to really engage.
So she stayed put, sitting just on the edge of the coffee table, her hands folded loosely in her lap. The room smelled faintly of the spices from her lunch and the lingering scent of his cologne. It was quiet except for the soft hum of the air conditioning and the distant sound of traffic outside.
She glanced at the food again, and then back at him, a subtle unease knotting in her stomach.
He's here, he's finally home... but he's so far away, she thought, the worry twisting into something heavier.
She couldn't help but wonder if he even realized she had made lunch for him, if he had noticed the effort or simply filed it away in the corner of his mind, just another thing she did.
Dhruv, meanwhile, had completely surrendered to the exhaustion.
His phone sat silently on the side table, buzzing periodically with work notifications he hadn't yet glanced at.
Even with the phone close by, he didn't reach for it.
For a few moments, he let the silence wash over him, letting the quiet of home contrast sharply against the constant noise of work and travel.
Vaani finally leaned back slightly, letting her head rest against the arm of the couch.
She could feel her own eyelids growing heavy, the mental weight of the past few days settling over her.
Maybe he really does need rest, she told herself, but there was a quiet ache beneath the thought, a subtle frustration at the distance she felt even with him so near.
Minutes passed, the two of them in the same room yet worlds apart, connected only by presence and the unspoken tension that lingered in the air.
Vaani let out a soft sigh, pulling the blanket slightly around her shoulders for comfort.
Dhruv, still half-asleep, shifted slightly, unaware of the depth of thought occupying her mind.
Finally, the quiet stretched into a rhythm neither broke.
He slept, and she sat, watching the man she missed finally resting, though it left her with a hollow mixture of relief and melancholy.
Outside, the late afternoon sun filtered softly through the curtains, casting warm streaks across the room, the only witness to the unspoken words, the unshared thoughts, and the quiet tension that had settled over their first evening back home.
~·~
Dhruv stirred on the bed after what felt like hours of trying to rest but failing to quiet the knots in his mind.
He ran a hand over his face, feeling the strain of early-morning flights, endless meetings, and the nagging weight of unfinished work pressing down on him.
Slowly, reluctantly, he got to his feet.
His shoulders were tense, his movements stiff, but he forced himself to step out into the living area.
Vaani, seeing him, immediately perked up.
"Dhruv! You're finally up! I was thinking-" She launched into a string of words, animated and fast, trying to bridge the distance that had silently settled between them.
She spoke about little things, about what she had cooked, about how the house felt, about the plans she was thinking of for the evening.
Her tone was light, but underneath it, there was a nervous energy, a desperate attempt to pull him out of the bubble of work and fatigue she knew he had wrapped around himself.
Dhruv was listening, as he always does. He let her go about her talking while he quickly set his phone aside, aiming to give her the whole attention.
As she spoke, Dhruv gave her a small nod. That was all. Just a nod.
Vaani's words faltered mid-sentence. She blinked at him, her eyebrows knitting together. The nod-it wasn't dismissive, not exactly-but it was just that, a nod. No engagement, no effort to connect, no acknowledgment beyond a single, tiny gesture.
"Dhruv?" she asked, the uncertainty in her voice rising slightly.
"Yeah?" He asked, his eyes glancing on his phone, then getting more focused as he picked his phone up instantly. He didn't respond beyond another, slower nod.
A tightness started building in her chest. She wanted to keep trying, but the bubble of hurt and exhaustion from the past few days-this whole weekend where she had tried to get through to him, where she had tried to engage, to connect, to be present-was simmering violently beneath the surface.
And now, seeing him there, almost silent and detached, it was pushing her over the edge.
She clenched her fists loosely at her sides, forcing herself to stay quiet, but her heart raced.
Why isn't he talking? Why isn't he even trying?
Her mind spun with the replay of the past days-the missed cues, the unreadiness to meet her halfway, the relentless work, the endless tired eyes that didn't look at her the same way he normally did.
Dhruv finally broke the silence. "Vaani, I need to go see Mom," he said, his voice quiet but firm, carrying that underlying note of focus that always came with obligations.
Vaani's lips parted, her confusion mingling with frustration. Go see mom? Now? she thought, barely holding the sharp edge in her voice down.
He continued, "She needs my help with-"
"Fine, go," she cut him off abruptly, her voice sharper than she intended. The word hung in the room like a tiny spark.
He paused, looking at her with concern and something else-mild irritation, but more confusion than anything. "Vaani..." he said, stepping closer.
Her bubble finally burst. Something inside her, the constant pressure of trying, waiting, hoping, boiled over. She crossed her arms over her chest, her voice rising as tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.
"Go, Dhruv! Go to your mom! See her! Don't even bother looking at me!" she snapped, her words spilling over like a dam breaking.
He froze for a second, completely thrown off. "What-what's wrong?" he asked, his voice tight, laced with disbelief.
Her chest heaved as she finally let the words she had been holding for days tumble out.
"What's wrong?! What's wrong is that you don't even care!
You don't even notice! You don't talk to me!
You don't even try! I spent days waiting, trying, thinking you'd notice, thinking you'd care, and you don't even bother!
" Her voice cracked with the weight of emotion she had bottled up.
Dhruv opened his mouth to speak, but she didn't let him.
"No, don't! Don't you dare try to justify yourself!
I'm tired of justifying myself, of waiting for someone who doesn't even see me!
I'm always trying to read you, always trying to understand you, always trying to be near you, and you.
.. you're... always somewhere else! Always busy, always distant, always so damn. .. untouchable!"
His jaw tightened. Dhruv could feel the heat rising in his chest, a mix of irritation and guilt, the two tangling together so quickly he almost didn't recognize which emotion was stronger. "Vaani, I was-"
"No, Dhruv! Stop! You're always busy! You don't talk to me! You don't even try to let me in! Do you know how it feels to wait and wait, to try to reach you and see nothing in return? Nothing! Just... silence!" Her voice shook, and a single tear rolled down her cheek.
Dhruv ran a hand over his face, the stress and fatigue of the past few days boiling up with her words.
He felt his patience fraying. "Vaani....
What do you want from me then?" he asked, his voice low, but laced with genuine frustration, because her yelling had broken through the fatigue and into his raw nerves.
Vaani's chest heaved. She looked at him, her hands slightly shaking, the tears threatening to spill fully now.
She let out a short, bitter laugh. "Oh, I don't know.
.. Dhruv... maybe a husband who actually cares about me!
A husband who cares if I'm alive or not!
You're always so... so wrapped up in work and everything else that I feel like I don't even exist to you sometimes! "
The air between them thickened. Dhruv's face hardened slightly, and the tension in his shoulders spoke volumes. "What?" he muttered, his tone tight, his fingers balling into fists at his sides.
"You heard me!" she shouted, her voice rising to match the torrent inside her. "I've tried, I've been trying, every single day! And you... you don't even notice! You don't even care! I... I-" She broke off, biting her lip, tears now freely streaming, chest heaving with frustration and hurt.
Dhruv's annoyance edged into something heavier-hurt, perhaps, or maybe it was guilt, or the sharp, prickling anger of feeling accused when he had been trying in the ways he knew how. He raised his voice for the first time in years. "Vaani, I-what do you want from me?!"
She laughed bitterly, shaking her head, her eyes blazing with pain. "I want... I want... I want you to just care! Just notice me! Just... be here for once without your head stuck in everything else! Is that too much to ask?!"
Dhruv opened his mouth again, then closed it. He wanted to argue, wanted to tell her he did care, that he had been silently trying, that he thought he was protecting her by not burdening her with his stress, but her words hit harder than he expected.
Her voice softened just a fraction, trembling with the vulnerability she had been holding back: "I feel... invisible sometimes, Dhruv. And I... I hate feeling like I'm not enough. I hate feeling like you're... somewhere else even when you're right here."
The room felt heavy. Even the air seemed to constrict around them. Dhruv, caught between exhaustion, frustration, and the sharp pang of realizing just how much she was hurting, stood in silence. His jaw was tight. He ran a hand over his face, exhaling slowly, but the words refused to come out.
The room felt electric, charged with the heat of anger and hurt that had been building for days. Dhruv stood stiffly, fists clenched at his sides, trying to maintain some semblance of composure, but Vaani's words pierced right through him.
"You don't even care, Dhruv! You never talk, you never try, you never look at me! I've been trying every single day, and you..." Her voice cracked. "...you're just always somewhere else! Always busy, always distant!"
Dhruv's jaw tightened. "I am trying, Vaani! I've been here! I've been listening as much as I can! You're blowing this out of proportion!"
"Blowing it out of proportion?! Are you serious, Dhruv?!" she yelled, stepping closer to him, her eyes blazing, chest heaving. "Do you have any idea how it feels to feel invisible right in front of the person who's supposed to care the most?!"
"I said I'm trying!" he shouted back, the control he had been trying to maintain snapping under the weight of her anger. "I'm doing everything I can. I wasn't even here and right now, too, I have a reason Vaani, and you just keep pushing me away before I can-"
She laughed bitterly, a sharp, humorless sound. "Pushing you away? Maybe if you actually looked at me once in a while instead of being buried in your work and meetings, I wouldn't have to push!" Her voice was louder now, shaking with frustration and tears she could no longer hold back.
Dhruv's chest heaved, and his hands twitched, unable to find anything to do with all the pent-up emotions inside him. "Look Vaani, I don't want to dwell on problems," he shouted. "Tell me! I can't fix it if you don't tell me!"
"I've told you!" she yelled, her voice rising to match his. "I've been telling you every single day what I need! I want you to notice me! I want you to talk to me! I want you to care! Is that really too much to ask?!"
He ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. "I care! I care more than you realize." His head stung at the back of his mind. "Can we please just.... Sit silently and-"
Vaani shook her head violently, stepping back. Her voice dropped into a bitter, cutting edge. "Wow. Silently. I see. Fine. I'm such a problem... if I talk too much... if you want silence so bad....then I'll give it to you!"
Dhruv froze mid-step, confusion and panic flashing across his face. "What-what are you saying?"
She grabbed the car keys from the counter, her hands trembling with anger and adrenaline. "Yes, Dhruv! If you want silence, then take it! I'll go!"
"What? Vaani, wait-" His voice was urgent now, his chest tightening as he realized she meant it.
But she didn't wait. She stormed past him, slamming the front door behind her. Dhruv's heart hammered in his chest. "Vaani!" he shouted, his voice cracking with frustration and worry. "Vaani, stop!"
He ran after her, heart racing, adrenaline fueling his legs as he darted down the stairs two at a time. But by the time he burst out of the building, she was already in her car, engine running, the tires spinning slightly as she accelerated.
"Vaani!" he yelled, waving his arms desperately. "Stop!"
But it was too late. The car peeled away from the curb, cutting through the street like a silver bullet, leaving him standing in the middle of the road, helpless.
Dhruv swore under his breath, teeth clenched, fists shaking. "Damn it!" he muttered, running to the edge of the road, but her car was already too far ahead. He could see it weaving through the traffic, her taillights disappearing around the corner.
His chest heaved, rage and panic mixing together, a burning fire in his gut. How could she just leave like that? He wanted to scream, to yell, to call her back, to shake her and tell her how much he cared, but she had taken control of the situation and driven away.
Dhruv's mind was a storm of anger, guilt, and helplessness. His chest tightened, a knot forming in his stomach as he realized the depth of the fight that had just exploded between them. She's really upset... and I... I didn't see it coming... not like this.
He felt a pang of guilt. Every day he had been so absorbed in work, so lost in meetings and flights, that he hadn't noticed how far apart they had drifted emotionally. And now... now she had driven off, angry and hurt, leaving him standing there, realizing he had pushed her too far.
The street was quiet now except for the hum of passing cars. He could almost feel her anger radiating back at him, even from a distance. I have to fix this... I can't let her stay like this. Not Vaani...
He swore under his breath again, running his hands over his face. "Damn it."
He knew he had to catch up to her, had to talk to her, had to make her understand how much she meant to him. But as he looked down the street, all he could see were the fading taillights of her car, disappearing around the corner, and his heart sank.
Anger, frustration, and panic roiled inside him.
He clenched his fists, muttering to himself, pacing the sidewalk.
His mind raced with everything he wanted to say, everything he had failed to communicate these past days.
Words he had held back, gestures he had failed to make, little things he hadn't noticed-now it all seemed critical.
And she had driven off before he could say anything.
He muttered another curse under his breath and ran toward the street, eyes scanning every turn she could have taken, hoping to catch a glimpse of her car before it got too far. Every second without her felt like an eternity, the distance stretching between them both physically and emotionally.
Dhruv's chest heaved, jaw tight, a mix of anger at himself and worry for her churning inside him.
He muttered one final, frustrated curse.
"Damn it... Vaani..." and without another thought, he started running down the street, determined to catch up, determined to fix what he had broken, determined to stop her before she drove too far.
Dhruv's thumb hovered over the call button for what felt like the hundredth time. He dialed her number, heart racing, throat tight, but as always, it went straight to voicemail. Again.
"Vaani..." he muttered under his breath, frustration, worry, and guilt all clashing inside him. He tried again, but the same outcome. No answer.
He sank back against the headrest of his car, running a hand through his hair, his chest heavy.
Why isn't she picking up? Where would she even go?
His mind raced through every possibility, every corner of the city they knew, every friend's place, every street she could have driven down.
I can't-can't just leave her like this.
But if I chase her, she might get more upset. ..
He picked up his phone and tried texting her.
"Vaani... please call me. I just want to make sure you're okay."
Minutes passed. No reply. He sent another.
"I know you're upset. I just... I need to know you're safe."
Still nothing.
Dhruv's jaw tightened. He leaned back, staring blankly at the ceiling of the car, trying to steady his breathing. He didn't know whether to worry, to chase her, or to just... wait. Maybe she needs space. Maybe that's what she wants. Fine. Fine, she can have it.
A sigh escaped him, low and frustrated. He didn't want to call anyone, didn't want to bother his parents or add more worry for them. He didn't want to admit he was completely at a loss, but the truth was, he didn't know what to do. Not a single idea seemed right.
Then, his phone buzzed, breaking the oppressive silence. He looked at the screen. Aarav.
He hesitated, thumb hovering over the answer button. Do I even...? But before he could decide, the call connected.
"Yo, bro! You back?" Aarav's voice was casual, but there was a tinge of curiosity under it.
Dhruv exhaled sharply. "Yeah... just... sitting." His tone was clipped, annoyed.
"Man... what happened to you? You sound like you've been wrestling a storm." Aarav's voice wasn't mocking, but it was teasing enough to make Dhruv bristle.
Dhruv let out a dry laugh that barely sounded like laughter. "Nothing."
"Nothing?" Aarav repeated, skeptical. "C'mon, dude. You fought with Vaani, didn't you?"
Dhruv's eyes narrowed, jaw tightening. He ran a hand down his face. "Yeah... we fought." His voice was low, restrained, but the weight behind it was heavy with regret and frustration.
Aarav didn't press further immediately, letting the silence stretch for a beat, then said gently, "I'll come pick you up. Get out of wherever you are. You need to breathe, man."
Dhruv closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling slowly. "Fine."
"Alright, I'll be there in 10," Aarav said, before they cut the call.
Dhruv dropped his phone onto the seat beside him and ran a hand through his hair again. The quiet in the car felt suffocating. He stared out the window at the city lights, blurred by the thought storm inside him.
He thought about her-the way she had looked at him, angry, hurt, tears in her eyes, voice breaking, hands trembling as she had grabbed the car keys. That flash of anger, hurt, and defiance haunted him.
His fists clenched tightly in his lap. He had always been a man of action, of control, but this-Vaani's absence, her silence-was something he couldn't control. He couldn't just fix it with work, with words, with logic.
He exhaled slowly, his mind spinning. She needs space... okay. Space... fine.
He leaned back in his seat, shoulders heavy, watching the faint glow of traffic lights pass by. The tension in his chest didn't ease. He didn't know if he was angry at her, himself, or the situation-but he knew one thing: he couldn't let this go unresolved.
His phone buzzed again-another message-but it wasn't from Vaani. He ignored it, not wanting distractions. This is about her... only her... nothing else matters right now.
He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel absentmindedly, thoughts scattered. He thought about the little things, the small gestures he had taken for granted, the quiet conversations he hadn't had, the moments he had been too absorbed in work to notice her needs.
He muttered under his breath, frustration and worry blending into one sharp edge: "Damn it, Vaani."
By the time Aarav arrived, Dhruv was pacing slightly, agitation clear in his movements. He didn't greet him with the usual banter, just a sharp nod, the weight of his frustration heavy in his posture.
"Whoa, man... you look like hell. Take a deep breath. Come on, get in the car," Aarav said, trying to get a sense of what was wrong.
Dhruv flopped into the passenger seat with a low groan. "She... she's not replying. She won't answer. She... I don't know where she went." His voice cracked slightly, betraying the calm, controlled exterior he usually maintained.
Aarav raised an eyebrow. "And you're just sitting here stewing? Dude... you need to see her. Not just sit here driving yourself crazy."
Dhruv ran a hand over his face, closing his eyes.
"I know... I just... I can't just call her endlessly.
I don't want to scare her, or... or make things worse.
I don't want anyone else worried. Her...
mom... my parents... they'll... I don't want them involved yet.
I just..." He trailed off, frustration mixing with helplessness.
Aarav didn't say anything immediately, letting the silence linger for a beat before speaking gently, "Look... sometimes, you can't control everything. You need to get out there. Talk to her. Face it. The longer you wait, the worse it gets."
Dhruv nodded slowly, jaw tight. "I know... I just... I'm... damn it, Aarav..." His voice trailed off into a frustrated exhale.
"Then let's go. I'll drive. You just think about what you want to say. Calm down. Breathe. We'll fix this."
Dhruv exhaled, finally letting some tension slip. He leaned back in the seat, closing his eyes for a moment, but his mind was a storm of worry, guilt, and desperate longing.
The car pulled away into the light, the sunlight blurring past as Dhruv stared out the window, silent but seething with emotion. Every passing second without her felt like a weight pressing down, reminding him that this fight, this silence, had gone far enough.
I'll fix this... I have to fix this... he whispered to himself, jaw tight, fists clenched.
And for the first time in days, he allowed himself to admit the truth he had been avoiding: he couldn't stop thinking about her, he couldn't stop worrying about her, and he couldn't let her drift away-not for anything.
~·~
Dhruv slouched against the chair in the bar, jaw tense, eyes fixed on the passing streetlights through the window. The weight of the fight with Vaani pressed down on him, heavier than anything he'd carried in weeks. Aarav, sitting beside him, glanced sideways, waiting for Dhruv to speak.
"Man... tell me what exactly she said," Aarav prompted gently.
Dhruv exhaled, running a hand over his face before muttering, "She.
.. she said I don't care about her. That I don't even talk to her.
That I'm always busy. She... she said she tried waiting for me the whole weekend, tried to talk to me, and I didn't even.
.. I didn't even notice. She said she wanted a husband who actually cares if she's alive or not. .."
Aarav let that settle for a beat. Then, calmly, he said, "Dhruv.
.. listen. You're a husband now. I know you're a silent person-quiet, focused, disciplined-and we respect that.
Honestly, Vaani... she's done more than any girl in our era would.
She doesn't nag, she doesn't demand, she doesn't even question your silence most of the time.
She trusts you to be there. And you... you did your best, texting her whenever you could, trying to squeeze her into your schedule.
But think about her perspective for a second. "
Dhruv kept his gaze forward, tight-lipped, but Aarav continued.
"You two had an amazing time at the wedding, right?
Fun, laughter, dancing... she felt connected to you.
And then suddenly, you become too busy to talk to her.
You leave for a work trip, come back exhausted, go straight to sleep, and when you wake up, you tell her you need to go see your mom.
Think about how that feels from her side.
She's just trying to connect, trying to feel close to you, and suddenly you vanish again.
She must have felt ignored... small, unimportant, even though that's not what you intended. "
Dhruv's hands curled into fists on his knees. The weight of Aarav's words sank deep. It all made sense. He could feel the knot in his chest tighten. "Yeah... I... I guess... I didn't think about it that way."
"Aarav continued, "You should have just spent time with her before rushing to aunty. It would have at least made her realise that Dhruv isn't gone. She might have felt ignored, or upset, or thought that you're feeling upset at her."
"I should have." His voice was rough, laced with guilt.
Aarav leaned back, nodding. "Exactly, bro.
And look... I get it. You had to see your mom.
She was in the hospital yesterday. She only told you then.
You can't ignore that. But Vaani doesn't know that.
All she knows is that you went off somewhere else and didn't talk to her. Perspective, Dhruv. That's all it is."
Dhruv ran a hand through his hair again. "I... I had to see her. Mom. I should have communicated it better."
Aarav's voice softened. "Exactly. Communicate.
Look, realistically, being nonchalant is good sometimes.
Calm, collected, efficient. But Vaani...
she's not like that. She's open, emotional, expressive.
She's your wife. You need to make her feel secure.
She's not asking for much, just a little attention, a little presence. That's it."
Dhruv let out a long groan and leaned back, staring at the roof of the bar. "I know." He ran a hand over his face, "this whole week, it's been too much. Mom's hospital thing, Vaani... this entire company situation... it's exhausting."
Aarav chuckled softly. "Then tell her, Dhruv. Calmly, maturely. She'll understand. She's very mature. She's not going to yell or blame you endlessly. She wants to hear you, she wants to know you're there. She will understand."
Dhruv's lips twitched into a humorless smile. "She probably won't even talk to me right now. She's probably ignoring my messages... as usual."
Aarav grinned. "Let her cool down, bro. Give her a little space. Then go. Show her that you care. You need to make the first move here."
Dhruv glanced at his phone. WhatsApp opened automatically. He saw the blue double ticks on his last messages to her. Read. She had seen them. She had read them. And yet... nothing. No reply. His chest tightened.
He exhaled slowly, letting the frustration simmer. He looked up at Aarav, jaw tight. "Got it."
Aarav raised an eyebrow. "Where exactly are you going?"
Dhruv stood, muscles tense, eyes burning with determination. He leaned slightly toward Aarav, voice low but sharp.
"Getting my wife back."
??