4 𝙔𝙀𝘼𝙍𝙎 𝙇𝘼𝙏𝙀𝙍.

𝙔𝙀𝘼𝙍 - 1962.

The gentle rays of the morning sun filtered through the partially drawn curtains, bathing the spacious bedroom in a soft golden glow.

Prithvi stirred awake, the quietness of the Sunday morning settling around him like a warm blanket. His eyes fluttered open, and the first thing he noticed was the weight on his chest-a small, familiar warmth that made his heart ache with love.

Manik, his nine-year-old son, was fast asleep on him, his head nestled against Prithvi's chest, his small, immature arm kept over him.

The boy's steady breaths created a soothing rhythm, and Prithvi couldn't help but smile as he looked down at his precious gem.

Manik's features had started to mature, but there was still a childlike innocence in his expression as he slept soundly, completely at ease in his father's embrace.

Prithvi shifted his gaze, feeling another warmth against his side. To his right, Tara was curled up beside him, her head resting on his bicep, her arm lightly draped across his torso, as if unconsciously protecting their son even in her sleep.

Her soft, steady breaths tickled his skin, and strands of her hair spilled across his shoulder, a faint floral scent lingering.

For a moment, Prithvi simply lay there, his heart swelling with an indescribable mix of emotions. This was his life, his family-his entire world encapsulated in this quiet, perfect moment.

He tilted his head slightly to get a better look at Tara. She looked so peaceful, her features softened in sleep, the faintest hint of a smile gracing her lips. Even after all these years, her presence grounded him, filled him with a sense of calm he hadn't known before her.

Prithvi's gaze returned to Manik. His son's small arms rested lightly on his chest, and Prithvi's large hand moved instinctively to gently cover one, cradling it as though it were the most fragile thing in the world.

The boy's physical difference-the immature arm never felt like a limitation. Instead, they were a testament to Manik's strength and resilience, qualities that only deepened Prithvi's pride in his son.

"Our Manik," Prithvi whispered softly, his voice barely above a murmur, careful not to disturb either of them. "Our precious gem."

Manik stirred slightly, his lips parting in a soft, sleepy mumble, but he didn't wake. Instead, he snuggled closer to Prithvi, burying his face against his chest. The gesture tugged at Prithvi's heart, and he pressed a tender kiss to the top of the boy's head.

Tara shifted beside him, her brows furrowing slightly as she woke. Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked up at Prithvi with a sleepy smile.

"Good morning," she murmured, her voice husky with sleep.

Prithvi smiled down at her, his hand moving to gently brush a strand of hair away from her face.

"Good morning, Tara."

Her gaze moved to Manik, still sleeping soundly on his father, and her smile softened.

"He's been clinging to you all night," she said quietly, her fingers lightly tracing circles on Prithvi's chest.

"I don't mind," Prithvi replied, his voice filled with warmth. "He's my world, Tara. You both are."

Tara's eyes glistened with emotion as she leaned up to press a soft kiss to Prithvi's cheek.

"And you're ours," she whispered.

The three of them stayed like that for a while longer, savoring the peacefulness of the morning.

Prithvi held his little family close, his heart full of gratitude and love. This was his sanctuary, his happiness-a reminder of how far they'd come and how much they had to cherish.

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The morning sun filtered gently through the curtains, casting a soft golden hue over the dining area.

The aroma of freshly made aloo parathas filled the air as Prithvi stood by the stove in his dhoti and vest, expertly flipping parathas on the hot tawa.

A thin sheen of sweat glistened on his neck and muscular arms, but he seemed unbothered, focused entirely on his task.

At the dining table, Tara sat with Manik on her lap, feeding him small bites of paratha dipped in masala curd.

Manik, leaned comfortably against her, his small, underdeveloped arm resting on his side.

"Ma," Manik said, chewing slowly,

"I think I'm done. Baba's parathas are so... thick and filling."

Tara raised an eyebrow, stifling a smile.

"Done? Already? Your Baba will be heartbroken to hear this," she teased, glancing toward the kitchen.

Prithvi turned his head, a smirk tugging at his lips as he placed another paratha on a plate.

"Manik, don't listen to your Ma. She's just jealous because I make better parathas than she does."

Tara gasped, feigning offense.

"Oh, really? Better than mine? Should I remind you of the time you burned an entire batch trying to show off?"

Prithvi walked over, carrying the plate of parathas, and placed it on the table with exaggerated care.

"That was strategy," he said with mock seriousness.

"I burned them so you'd feel superior and cook more often."

Manik giggled, hiding his face in Tara's saree.

"Baba, you're just making excuses!"

Prithvi knelt slightly to meet his son's eyes.

"Excuses? Never. Ask your Ma who made these delicious parathas today, hmm?"

Tara rolled her eyes, tearing off another piece of paratha and feeding it to Manik.

"Fine, I'll admit it. You've outdone yourself this time. But don't let it go to your head, Thakur Sahab."

Prithvi leaned against the chair, smirking.

"Too late." He glanced at Tara and added teasingly,

"Besides, the real reason I'm making parathas is so you can admire me in my dhoti and vest. I've noticed how you've been staring."

Tara's cheeks flushed as she immediately busied herself with feeding Manik.

"Stop talking nonsense in front of the child," she said, trying to sound stern but failing to hide her smile.

Prithvi chuckled, returning to the stove.

"If it's nonsense, why are you blushing?" he teased, his voice warm and full of affection.

Manik tilted his head up at Tara, curiosity in his wide eyes.

"Ma, why are you blushing?"

Tara glared at Prithvi playfully, her lips curving into a smile.

"Eat your paratha, beta. Don't listen to your Baba's silly jokes."

As Prithvi flipped the last paratha and brought it over, he spoke more seriously.

"By the way, Ma send letter yesterday. She's keeping a puja at the haveli in six days. She wants Manik to go today since his school vacations have started."

Manik looked up, his curiosity piqued. "Dadi wants me to come?"

Prithvi nodded, his voice gentle.

"Yes, beta. She's been missing you. She says the haveli feels empty without you running around."

Tara smiled, stroking Manik's hair. "You'll go today, then? Be good for your dadi?"

Manik nodded eagerly. "I'll be good, Ma. I promise."

Prithvi sat down and leaned back, taking a sip of water.

"And we'll join you in two days," he added, glancing at Tara with a small smile.

"Your Ma and I need some time to... pack."

Tara shot him a warning look, catching the teasing glint in his eyes.

"Don't start," she said quietly, though her lips twitched with amusement.

Prithvi chuckled, leaning back in his chair as the small family shared a peaceful morning filled with teasing, laughter, and love.

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The quiet of the afternoon hung over the bungalow as Prithvi sat on the cushioned swing in the veranda, gently rocking with Manik nestled in his lap.

Tara had left early in the morning for the hospital, called in for an emergency. Though the house was peaceful, her absence was felt keenly by Prithvi and Manik.

Manik sat comfortably against his father, his small immature hand idly playing with the folds of Prithvi's kurta.

Prithvi's arm was wrapped securely around the boy's waist, and the travel bag packed for his trip to the haveli rested beside them, a silent reminder of his departure.

Prithvi gently ran his fingers through Manik's hair, smoothing it down as he said, "So, my little prince, are you ready to go to Dadi? She's been waiting to spoil you."

Manik tilted his head to look up at his father.

"Yes, Baba. But will Maa come to the haveli soon? I want her to eat Dadi's laddoos with me."

Prithvi chuckled at the innocence in his son's voice, his fingers tapping playfully on Manik's nose.

"Don't you worry, tiger. Maa and I will be there in just two days. Meanwhile, you can tell Dadi to make lots of laddoos for all of us."

Manik giggled, leaning back against his father's chest.

"Okay, Baba. But you have to promise to come soon. I'll miss you and Maa."

Prithvi tightened his hold on his son, kissing the top of his head.

"We'll miss you too, my boy. But Dadi will take great care of you, and you'll have lots of fun."

Manik nodded, resting his head against Prithvi's chest again, the comfort of his father's embrace making him feel safe. For a few quiet moments, they sat there, savoring the peace before parting.

The soft rumble of an approaching jeep broke the stillness, and Prithvi's gaze shifted toward the driveway.

"Looks like Chachu is here to take you," he said softly, a hint of sadness in his voice.

Manik perked up immediately, sitting upright and craning his neck to see. When Suraj stepped out of the jeep, his usual cheerful grin lighting up his face, Manik clapped his hands excitedly.

"There's my little tiger!" Suraj called out, opening his arms wide as he approached.

"Chachu! You're here!" said Manik

Suraj lifted him effortlessly, spinning him around.

"Of course, I'm here! Do you think I'd miss the chance to take my tiger back to the haveli?"

"Whoa! Look at you! Have you been eating Baba's famous parathas? You're getting heavier!"

Manik laughed, his immature arm kept on Suraj's shoulder.

"Yes, Chachu! Baba makes the best parathas, and Maa feeds me lots of them."

Prithvi joined them, holding Manik's small travel bag in one hand.

"You're on time for once," Prithvi teased.

Suraj grinned.

"Only because Ma threatened me. She said if I don't get Manik to the haveli by tonight, I'd have to face her wrath."

Suraj smirked at his elder brother. He ruffled Manik's hair playfully and then glanced around.

"Where's bhabhi? Didn't she want to see this little tiger off?"

Prithvi sighed lightly, a fond smile tugging at his lips.

"Tara had an emergency at the hospital. She left early in the morning. But she packed Manik's bag before leaving."

Suraj nodded, adjusting Manik in his arms.

"That's bhabhi for you-always so dedicated. Don't worry, Bhai, I'll make sure little tiger here behaves and keeps Maa entertained until you both arrive."

Prithvi onces again took Manik in his arms from Suraj and held Manik into a tight hug.

"Be good for Dadi, alright? Listen to her, eat properly, and don't forget to call Maa and me every evening through telephone."

Manik hugged his father tightly, his small voice trembling. "I will, Baba. I'll miss you."

Prithvi's throat tightened, but he kept his voice steady.

"I'll miss you too, my boy. But it's only for a few days, and we'll be together again soon."

As Suraj settled Manik into the jeep, the boy waved enthusiastically from the window. "Tell Maa I love her, Baba!"

Prithvi smiled, waving back.

"I will. She loves you too, tiger."

The jeep rolled away, the sound of its engine fading into the distance. Prithvi stood on the veranda, his hand still raised in a wave, his heart a mix of pride and longing.

Turning back toward the quiet house, he whispered to himself,

"Our little gem is growing up so fast."

Even in their brief separation, the warmth of his little family remained a constant, filling him with strength and purpose. For now, he let the silence of the house settle around him, waiting for the next moment they would all be together again.

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The evening had settled in, dark and quiet, with only the occasional rustling of leaves outside breaking the stillness.

The city bungalow seemed too silent, almost hollow, with Manik gone to the village. Tara stepped out of the car, her shoulders sagging from a long day at the hospital.

The cool breeze brushed past her, but it did little to soothe the weariness etched across her face.

She entered the house, her footsteps echoing faintly on the marble floor. The scent of freshly polished wood and faint traces of incense greeted her.

She paused in the living room, glancing around-everything felt untouched, still. Her gaze lingered on the empty couch where Manik would usually sprawl with his books, and a pang of longing tightened her chest.

Her eyes shifted upward toward the faint light coming from Prithvi's office. She sighed, pushing her exhaustion aside, and made her way up the stairs.

The door to his office was slightly ajar, and she peeked in. Prithvi was seated at his desk, leaning slightly over a stack of papers.

He was wearing his usual dhoti and a simple vest, his hair slightly mussed, as if he'd run his hands through it too many times.

The warm light from the desk lamp illuminated his face, highlighting his strong jaw and the focused crease on his brow.

"Still working?" Tara's voice broke the silence, soft but teasing.

Prithvi looked up instantly, his frown dissolving into a smile.

"You're back," he said, standing up and walking toward her.

"I was starting to wonder if the hospital decided to keep you permanently."

Tara chuckled, stepping inside.

"It felt like it. A long day, but we managed to save a critical patient. It's worth the exhaustion."

Prithvi stopped in front of her, his hand lifting to cup her cheek gently.

"You're incredible, you know that?"

She smiled tiredly, leaning into his touch. "And you're biased."

"Always," he replied with a small grin.

Her eyes wandered around the room, finally landing on the small photo frame on his desk. Their little family stared back at her-Prithvi, herself, and their son Manik, smiling brightly.

She traced her fingers over the edge of the frame.

"The house feels so empty without him," she murmured.

Prithvi sighed, nodding.

"It does. It's only been a few hours, and I'm already missing his chatter."

Tara sat down on the couch by the window.

"I didn't even get to see him off. What did he say when he left?"

Prithvi joined her, sitting close enough that their knees touched.

"He was excited, as always. Suraj called him his 'little tiger,' and that was enough to make him puff out his chest and grin like he'd won a battle."

Tara laughed softly, the sound filled with affection. "He really is his father's son."

Her smile faltered slightly as she glanced at him, her voice quieter.

"Do you think he'll be okay in the village without us?"

Prithvi tilted his head, his expression softening.

"Maa will dote on him like always. And Suraj's there too. He's safe, Tara. You don't have to worry."

She nodded, though the ache of separation lingered.

"And we'll join him in two days," she said, almost to reassure herself.

"Exactly," Prithvi replied.

For a moment, they sat in comfortable silence, the weight of the day slowly lifting. Prithvi leaned back, his arm draped over the couch, watching her with quiet admiration.

"Why don't you have a bath? I'll make us some tea." he said finally.

Tara shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips and finally went to their bedroom.

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The warm kitchen filled with the scent of roasted spices and dough as the evening deepened into a peaceful rhythm.

Tara stood near the counter, rolling out the dough for rotis, her movements deliberate but weighed with a subtle heaviness.

The quiet hum of the house felt louder than usual, the absence of Manik, her nine-year-old boy, leaving a hollow ache in her chest. She hadn't realized how much her day revolved around him until now.

Prithvi stood a few steps away, chopping vegetables with precise, confident strokes. His broad chest gleamed faintly under the dim light, his loose dhoti swaying slightly as he moved.

He paused, glancing at Tara, catching the soft furrow of her brow and the slight quiver of her lips.

He placed the knife down and leaned against the counter, his arms crossed.

"You're quiet," he observed gently, breaking the silence.

Tara didn't look up, her hands pressing the rolling pin harder into the dough.

"I'm fine," she replied softly. But her voice betrayed her, tinged with a sadness she couldn't hide.

Prithvi sighed and walked over, standing behind her. He didn't touch her immediately, just stood there, close enough for her to feel his presence.

"You miss him," he said, his voice low and understanding.

Her hands paused, and she let out a shaky breath.

"Of course, I do. He's never been away from me like this. Even knowing he's with Maaji, I can't help but worry. What if he... what if he needs me?"

Prithvi placed his hands gently on her shoulders, turning her around to face him. Her eyes met his, glistening with unshed tears.

"Tara," he said, his voice firm yet tender. "Manik is our son. He's strong, just like you. And he's safe with Maa. Suraj adores him as much as we do. He'll be fine."

Tara's lips trembled as she nodded, though the ache in her heart didn't lessen.

"I just... I feel so restless without him."

Prithvi smiled softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.

"That's because you've spoiled him too much. Always fussing over him, making sure he's fed, that he's warm, that he's happy. He's nine now, Tara. Let him be a little independent."

She let out a small laugh, the sound trembling but genuine.

"And you're any better? You let him sleep on your chest like he's still a baby."

"That's because he is my baby," Prithvi countered, a playful smirk on his lips.

"But even I know when to let go... a little."

Tara shook her head, a faint smile spreading across her face. "I'll try," she whispered.

He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "That's all I ask."

As she turned back to the counter, Prithvi didn't step away. Instead, he moved closer, wrapping his arms around her waist. His chin came to rest lightly on her shoulder, and she stiffened slightly, her hands faltering over the dough.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice a mix of exasperation and amusement.

"Helping," he replied simply, his hands covering hers as he guided the rolling pin. The dough beneath them formed a perfect circle, and Tara couldn't help but marvel at how effortlessly he did it.

"Why do your rotis always come out better than mine?" she muttered, her tone teasing.

"Years of practice," he said with a grin, his warm breath brushing against her ear.

"You forget, I learned from the best-Maa. She didn't let me leave the kitchen without perfecting it."

"Clearly, she succeeded," Tara replied, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

They worked together in a comfortable silence for a moment until Prithvi's voice broke through, soft and unguarded.

"You know... Manik always talks about wanting a baby sister."

Tara froze, her hands stilling beneath his.

"He sees his classmates with their siblings," Prithvi continued, unaware of the weight his words carried.

"He says it would be nice to have someone to play with at home. Someone to share secrets with."

Tara's breath hitched, and she pulled away slightly, her back stiffening. Prithvi immediately realized his mistake.

"Tara..." he began, his voice filled with regret.

Her lips quivered as she looked down, her arms tightening around herself.

"It's not just about me, you know," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"It's about you, too. About what you lost... what we both lost. And now, with Manik gone even for a day, this house feels so empty. How do I... "

Prithvi stepped closer, his strong hands resting gently on her shoulders.

"Tara," he said softly, tilting her chin up to meet his gaze.

"We have Manik. He is our world, our everything. And that's enough. I promise you, it's enough. What happened six years ago... it doesn't define you or us. You are the most incredible woman I've ever known, and I love you and Manik more than anything in this world."

Tears spilled from her eyes, soaking his chest. "But Manik..." she whispered.

"He deserves everything, and I can't even give him that."

Prithvi tilted her face up to meet his gaze, his dark eyes filled with a love so deep it overwhelmed her.

"Manik already has everything. He has you, Tara. You are his mother in every sense of the word. You gave him your love, your heart, and your strength. And if, one day, you feel ready, we'll give him more. But until then, our little family is complete."

Tara broke into a quiet sob, and Prithvi held her tightly, letting her release the pain she had kept locked away for so long. He rested his chin on her head, stroking her hair.

"And as for a baby sister," he said with a soft smile,

"Manik can wait. He might change his mind once he realizes he'll have to share his parathas."

She let out a watery laugh, swatting at him weakly. "You always know how to ruin a serious moment."

"You don't have to decide now," he said gently, pressing a kiss to her hair. "We'll take it one day at a time. Together."

She nodded, her tears soaking into his skin.

"And for now," he added, pulling back slightly to look at her, "let's focus on finishing dinner. You roll the rotis, and I'll make sure the vegetables don't burn."

A soft laugh escaped her lips, and she nodded, the heaviness in her chest lifting just a little. Together, they returned to the counter, their love a quiet but unbreakable force between them.

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The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft golden hues. Tara stirred awake, her lips curving into a gentle smile as she opened her eyes.

Today was a special day-their WEDDING ANNIVERSARY. The thought of celebrating another year of love and togetherness filled her heart with a quiet joy.

Adding to her excitement was the anticipation of returning to the village tomorrow, where Manik was waiting for them, his eager face flashing in her mind.

Turning her head, her smile deepened at the sight of Prithvi beside her. He was still sound asleep, his strong arms wrapped protectively around her, holding her close as though afraid she might vanish if he let go. His face was nestled in the curve of her neck and chest, his warm breath tickling her skin.

"Still a child at heart," she murmured softly, her voice barely above a whisper. She reached out, gently brushing her fingers through his thick, unruly hair.

Moments like these, where everything felt still and perfect, made her feel like the luckiest woman in the world.

"Suniye..." she called out softly, her tone laced with affection.

( Listen )

Prithvi didn't respond, only shifted slightly, pulling her closer. She chuckled lightly, the sound barely disturbing the calm of the morning.

"Wake up," she urged, her fingers tracing lazy circles on his arm.

"It's a beautiful day."

This time, he stirred more noticeably, his eyes fluttering open just a crack before he groaned and turned his face away, burying it deeper into her neck.

" Uth bhi jaiye..." she pressed again, this time with a playful pout.

( Wake up )

Finally, he turned back to her, his expression a mix of sleep and confusion.

"Beautiful day? Why, Tara?" he mumbled groggily, his voice husky from sleep.

Her smile faltered slightly, a flicker of disbelief crossing her face. He doesn't remember?

"You don't remember?" she asked softly, leaning back slightly to study his face.

Prithvi blinked at her, his brows furrowing as though trying to recall.

"Remember what?" he asked, his voice earnest yet casual, giving away nothing.

Tara's heart sank, her disappointment flashing briefly in her eyes. She hesitated, her gaze searching his for any glimmer of recognition, any hint that he was teasing her. But there was nothing.

"It's our anni-" she began but stopped herself abruptly, biting her lip as the words caught in her throat.

Why should she remind him? If he truly cared, wouldn't he remember on his own? Her chest tightened, and she turned her head away slightly, trying to mask her emotions.

Prithvi's eyes followed her closely, his heart clenching at the flicker of sadness in her expression. But he didn't let it show, not yet. He stretched lazily, masking a sly smile as he leaned back against the headboard.

"Is something wrong, Tara?" he asked innocently, his tone perfectly casual.

She forced a small smile, shaking her head.

"No, nothing. You should get up. I'll take a bath," she said softly, slipping out of bed before he could ask further questions.

Prithvi watched her leave, his smirk resurfacing the moment she disappeared from sight.

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After completing their morning prayers, Tara sat across from Prithvi at the breakfast table. The soft clink of utensils against plates filled the air, but there was an underlying silence that Tara couldn't shake.

Her eyes kept drifting towards Prithvi, silently hoping he would remember. The morning felt just like any other, but today held more meaning in her heart. Today is special... but why isn't he saying anything?

She took small bites of her paratha, each one feeling heavier than the last. Prithvi, seemingly unaware of the quiet storm brewing in Tara's chest, continued eating his breakfast with casual ease. His expression was relaxed, as if nothing was different from any other day.

Tara looked at him again, her heart thumping louder now, her fingers nervously fiddling with her saree. Does he really not remember?

Finally, after a few moments of tense silence, Prithvi spoke, breaking the quiet.

"Tara," he said, looking up from his tea.

"Aren't you supposed to go to the hospital today?" His voice was calm and matter-of-fact, not even a hint of anything special in his tone.

Tara's heart gave a little leap, a brief flicker of hope igniting in her chest. He's asking... Maybe he remembers after all. She quickly set down her tea, her gaze focused on him.

She waited for him to continue, her breath caught in anticipation, hoping that any moment now, he would wish her a happy anniversary.

But instead, Prithvi continued, his focus already shifting back to his food.

"I mean, you have that emergency case today, right?" he added casually, not noticing the way Tara's smile faltered.

Her heart sank just a little, the words feeling like an ice-cold splash of reality. He had not remembered, and with those simple words, Tara's hope dimmed.

" Yes.....I will go today," Tara said softly, her voice barely above a whisper, trying to hide the disappointment in her eyes. I was hoping...

Prithvi nodded, unfazed.

"Okay, then."

Tara forced a small smile, her chest tight. She couldn't bring herself to say anything more.

She couldn't tell him, not yet-not when it was so clear that he had completely forgotten. Instead, she quietly reached for her cup of tea, her mind numb as she stared at the warm liquid swirling inside.

Prithvi, still unaware of her internal turmoil, finished his breakfast and pushed his plate aside.

"I'll be in the study later," he said casually, getting up from the table.

Tara watched him walk away, her heart heavy, her thoughts filled with questions she couldn't ask. How could he forget? How could he not remember today?

The silence in the house seemed to press down on her, and after a long pause, Tara finally stood up.

She gathered her things, mentally preparing herself for a busy day at the hospital. With a soft sigh, she grabbed her bag and left, trying to push aside the feelings swirling within her. Maybe I'll talk to him later, when he remembers.

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Tara entered her cabin, a wave of exhaustion washing over her after completing her rounds. She slumped into the chair, massaging her temples in an attempt to ward off the dull ache that had built throughout the day.

Her eyes fell on the small calendar on her desk, the date circled in red-a subtle reminder of her wedding anniversary. It stung.

Earlier, almost everyone in the hospital had stopped her to offer cheerful wishes. The nurses, her colleagues, even the receptionist had congratulated her on another year of marriage.

Their kind words only made the ache in her chest sharper. She'd smiled, thanked them politely, but inside, she couldn't shake the weight of Prithvi's indifference that morning.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock at the door. She straightened, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Come in."

The door creaked open, and one of the ward boys entered, holding a steel tiffin box and a cup of steaming tea on a tray.

" Madam ji, this just arrived for you," he said, placing the items on her desk.

Tara frowned, confused.

"For me? From whom?"

The ward boy handed her a folded note.

"It's from your husband, madam ji ." He gave a small smile before retreating, leaving Tara alone with the mysterious delivery.

Curiosity piqued, she unfolded the note, her heart skipping a beat as she read the familiar handwriting:

" DOCTOR SAHIBA, you forgot your tiffin in your rush this morning. You've been working hard all day, so don't skip your meal. Take care of yourself.

From your Thakur"

Her fingers tightened around the note, and a wave of emotions surged through her.

The tiredness, the longing, and even the disappointment she'd been harboring since morning all seemed to collide at once.

So he remembered I was busy enough to forget my tiffin... but not what day it is?

She opened the tiffin hesitantly, revealing neatly packed parathas, a small container of her favorite chutney, and halwa.

A pang of bittersweet warmth filled her as she realized he must have made everything himself.

Tara leaned back in her chair, staring at the note. This was just like him-quiet, thoughtful in small ways, yet infuriatingly oblivious in others.

As much as she wanted to be angry, she couldn't suppress the flicker of warmth his gesture sparked.

Sipping on the tea, she allowed herself a brief smile. It wasn't the grand anniversary acknowledgment she had hoped for, but it was still Prithvi. Perhaps that was enough.

Her gaze drifted back to the calendar, and a small seed of hope settled in her chest. Maybe he hasn't forgotten completely... Maybe...

With a quiet sigh, Tara finished her meal and tucked the note into her purse, holding onto the faint glimmer of anticipation for what the rest of the day might bring.

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Tara stepped into the house, her saree pallu loosely draped over her shoulder. The quietness that greeted her felt unnatural, unsettling.

Usually, the house echoed with the faint sounds of Prithvi shuffling papers in his office or the clang of utensils from the kitchen if he was cooking. But today, there was only silence-thick and all-encompassing.

Her brows furrowed in confusion. She set her bag on the small table near the door and stepped further inside.

"Ji Aap kaha hai?" she called softly, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

( Where are you ?)

There was no answer.

Her eyes scanned the living room, then the dining area. Everything was in place-tidy and clean, but oddly lifeless.

A strange knot formed in her stomach. She walked toward his office, her steps slow and measured, unsure of what to expect.

The door to his office was ajar, and hanging on the door's knob was a bag. A small folded note was pinned to it.

Tara blinked in surprise, her heart quickening as she reached for the note. Unfolding it carefully, her breath hitched as she read the words written in his bold, familiar handwriting:

"Wear this and come to the bedroom."

Her fingers tightened around the note, her eyes drifting toward the bag. Slowly, she unhooked it from the door and peered inside.

Her heart skipped a beat. It was her wedding saree.

The deep crimson fabric shimmered faintly in the soft light filtering through the hallway. The intricate gold embroidery on the pallu was just as beautiful as the day she had worn it for the first time.

Memories from that day flooded her mind-the weight of the saree, the overwhelming mix of emotions, and the way his eyes had lingered on her with an intensity that made her knees weak.

Her fingers trembled as she pulled the saree out, holding it close to her chest.

A soft, bittersweet smile curved her lips. So, he hadn't forgotten.

The thought filled her with a wave of relief and warmth. After the entire day of convincing herself that he didn't remember, here he was, proving her wrong in the most unexpected way.

Her eyes darted toward the office, hoping to see him inside, but the room was empty. His chair sat neatly pushed under the desk, and everything was in order.

She stepped in hesitantly, shutting the door behind her for privacy, and placed the saree on the couch.

Then she moved inside the bathroom attached with the office to take a bath. After comming out carefully, she undid the fold of the saree and began to change into the saree.

Her movements were slow and deliberate, as if savoring the moment.

Each pleat she tucked in brought back memories of their wedding day-how her hands had trembled, how her cheeks had burned under everyone's gaze, and how he had stood by her side, steady and calm.

As she draped the pallu over her shoulder, she adjusted the delicate folds and turned to glance at herself in the mirror hanging on the office wall.

The reflection staring back at her was not the young, nervous bride she had been years ago. It was a woman who had lived, loved, and grown stronger with every challenge.

Satisfied, she smoothed the fabric once more, took a deep breath, and left the office.

The house remained eerily quiet as she made her way toward their bedroom. Her bare feet padded softly against the cool floor, her saree swishing lightly with each step. Her heart thudded in her chest, anticipation and curiosity swirling within her.

When she reached the bedroom door, she noticed it was shut. She placed her hand on the knob, hesitating for a moment. Her mind raced with questions. What was he planning? Why all the secrecy?

With a deep breath, she turned the knob and pushed the door open.

The room was softly illuminated, bathed in the warm glow of golden lamps. The scent of rajnigandha filled the air, mingling with the light hum of the evening breeze filtering through the slightly ajar windows.

The room was decorated in a way that instantly pulled Tara back in time-it was exactly as it had been on their wedding night.

She stood in the middle of the room, her saree flowing gracefully around her, her eyes taking in the effort and thought behind each little detail. Her heart raced, her breath hitched as the memories of their first night together flooded her mind.

A warm breath grazed the nape of her neck, sending a shiver down her spine.

"Happy Anniversary, Tara," Prithvi's deep voice murmured behind her, rich and full of emotion.

She turned slightly but didn't have time to fully face him. His hands were already at her hair, gently tying a garland of fresh mogra around her bun.

The fragrant flowers rested delicately against her hair, their softness a stark contrast to the rough yet tender touch of his fingers.

Tara's heart swelled at the gesture, tears welling up in her eyes.

"You remembered," she whispered, her voice barely audible, trembling with emotion.

"How could I forget?" he said, his voice low and steady, laced with a vulnerability she rarely heard.

"This day isn't just our anniversary, Tara. It's the day my life truly began."

She turned fully to him now, her eyes locked onto his. The flickering light illuminated his freshly shaven face, his hair still damp from a bath, his strong shoulders relaxed yet brimming with intensity.

Prithvi reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box.

"I have something for you," he said softly.

Tara's brows furrowed in curiosity as he opened the box to reveal a stunning kangan-a golden bangle delicately adorned with pearls and emeralds, crafted with intricate designs that seemed to whisper tales of devotion and care.

"For you," he said, slipping it onto her wrist. His fingers lingered as he fastened it, his touch sending warmth through her.

"It's beautiful," she whispered, her voice breaking with emotion. "Why... why this?"

"Because you deserve it," he replied simply.

"You've brought light into my life, Tara. Every moment with you has been a blessing I never thought I'd deserve. I wanted to give you something that would remind you of how precious you are to me."

Her fingers gently brushed over the bangle, her eyes searching his for something unspoken.

"You've given me so much already," she said, her voice trembling.

"But not everything," he admitted, his gaze falling to the floor.

Tara tilted her head, sensing a weight in his words. "What do you mean?"

He took a step back, running a hand through his hair.

"Tara, there's something I've never told you," he began, his voice heavy with regret. "That night... our wedding night..."

Her breath caught, the tension in the air thickening.

"I'd never been with anyone before you," he admitted, his words steady but laden with emotion.

"You were my first. Just like I was yours. I wanted that night to be special, perfect-for both of us. But Dadi......"

His jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides.

"She ruined it. I was intoxicated, Tara. I wasn't myself. And I can't ever forgive myself for the way that night ended or every other nights."

Tara's heart ached as she listened, her eyes misting. She reached for his hand, her fingers wrapping around his.

"It wasn't your fault," she said firmly, her voice steady despite the tears threatening to spill.

" But You've spent every day showing me how much I mean to you, how much you care. That's what matters."

Prithvi's gaze softened, his vulnerability laid bare before her.

"I want to make it right, Tara. But only when you're ready. I don't want you to feel like you have to-"

"I am ready," she interrupted, her voice unwavering.

"Tara," he began, his brow furrowing. "Don't push yourself for me. I'll wait as long as it takes, we have been from last 6 year---."

She silenced him by stepping closer, her hands resting on his chest. Standing on her toes, she pressed her lips to his in a kiss so tender, it took his breath away.

When she pulled back, her eyes met his, filled with love and determination.

"I'm not pushing myself," she said softly.

"I want this as much as you do. And maybe... it's time we gave Manik the baby sister he's been asking for."

Prithvi froze, her words sinking in. His disbelief melted into a soft, relieved smile. "Tara..." he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion.

She smiled up at him, her hands moving to cup his face. "This isn't just for you. It's for us. For our little family."

He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch, his hands finding her waist and pulling her close. "I love you," he murmured, his voice filled with reverence.

"And I love you," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper, but carrying the weight of all her emotions.

With that, Prithvi kissed her deeply, pouring every ounce of his love and gratitude into the moment. Tara melted into him, her heart full, ready to rewrite their story on their own terms.

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The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft, golden glow over the room.

The bed was a quiet mess-the sheets crumpled, the pillows scattered, and a faint, intoxicating scent of jasmine and sandalwood lingering in the air.

Tara stirred awake, her head resting on Prithvi's bare chest, their naked bodies pressed together under the warm embrace of the blanket.

Her fingers absentmindedly traced the faint scars on his chest, her touch light and reverent.

Though it had been SIX LONG YEARS, last night felt like their first time all over again.

Her body ached, a gentle, lingering discomfort reminding her of their passion. It wasn't just her-she could sense it in the stiffness of Prithvi's body as he unconsciously shifted beneath her.

Both of them had felt pain, but it was a small price to pay for the overwhelming bliss of reconnecting in each other's arms.

Tara tilted her head slightly, her cheek brushing against his chest as a soft smile graced her lips.

Her heart felt lighter, fuller, as if the love they shared had somehow deepened overnight. She took a deep breath, savoring the familiar scent of him mingled with the remnants of their union.

Prithvi stirred beneath her, his arms instinctively tightening around her as he woke.

His lips pressed against her hair before his deep, raspy voice broke the morning silence. "Good morning, Tara."

Tara shifted to look up at him, her cheeks flushing as her gaze met his warm, tender eyes.

"Good morning," she whispered, her voice soft and shy, as though the intimacy of last night had rendered her newly bashful.

Prithvi's hand came up to gently cup her face, his thumb brushing against her cheek.

"Are you... alright?" he asked, his tone laced with concern.

Tara nodded, though her cheeks grew warmer.

"I'm fine," she murmured. "Just... a little sore."

A flicker of guilt crossed his features as he studied her.

"I should have been gentler..."

Tara quickly shook her head, placing her hand over his on her cheek.

"No. After six years, it was bound to be... different. But it was beautiful. It was worth every moment."

His gaze softened, his hand sliding down to rest against her shoulder.

"You don't know how much I missed this," he admitted, his voice low and filled with emotion.

"To hold you, to love you like this. Last night, Tara... I felt like I'd found a piece of myself I didn't even know I'd lost."

Tara's throat tightened as she listened to him, her heart swelling with love. She leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his chest.

"It wasn't just you," she whispered. "I missed this too. I missed us."

Prithvi sighed, his arms wrapping around her fully as he held her close.

"I promise you, Tara, I won't let time or anything else come between us again."

A faint blush rose on her cheeks as she whispered, "I trust you."

They lay in comfortable silence for a moment, their bodies pressed together, sharing warmth and unspoken love.

Tara could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her ear, a sound that grounded her. Despite the soreness in her body, she felt content and complete.

Finally, Prithvi broke the silence, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

"If we don't get up soon, Manik will think we've forgotten him."

Tara laughed softly, her cheeks heating at the thought.

"He'll be waiting for us, I'm sure," she said, attempting to sit up.

But as she moved, a soft wince escaped her lips. Prithvi noticed immediately, his brow furrowing as he gently helped her sit.

"You're still in pain," he said, concern etched into his features.

"It's nothing," she assured him, her tone firm but affectionate. "I told you, it was worth it."

He leaned forward, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. "Still, I'll make sure you don't overdo anything today," he murmured.

Tara rolled her eyes playfully but allowed him to help her as she stood, wrapping the blanket around herself. As she moved toward the bathroom, she glanced back at him, her heart swelling as she took in the sight of him lying there, his gaze fixed solely on her.

"Six years," he said softly, his voice carrying a hint of wonder.

"Six years, Tara, and you still take my breath away."

Tara's cheeks warmed, but she smiled, her voice equally soft.

"You're my husband, my everything. And no matter how much time passes, that will never change."

Prithvi sat up, his gaze serious yet filled with love. "Nor will it for me, Tara. Never."

The two of them shared a tender smile, their bond renewed and strengthened after their long-awaited union.

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𝙏𝙊 𝘽𝙀 𝘾𝙊𝙉𝙏𝙄𝙉𝙐𝙀𝘿..