The third day of marriage was less ceremonial and more suffocating. No more guests. No photographers. Just two strangers with the same last name walking around each other like furniture in a crowded room.

Aanya took breakfast in the kitchen. Arjun had already eaten and left for work, his schedule neatly written on the white board near the fridge:

9:30 – Client meeting

1:00 – Lunch

6:15 – Return

She stared at it like it was a signpost to a road she wasn't ready to walk.

Later, she found a note slipped under her door. Handwritten.

"Aanya,

I'll be home by 6.If you'd prefer, I can continue staying in the study. Let me know what makes you most comfortable.– Arjun"

No pressure. No entitlement. Just space.

She left the note unanswered.
That evening, they found themselves in the living room at the same time. Aanya curled on the far end of the couch with a book, pretending to read. Arjun sat with his laptop, editing some architectural drawings, his fingers moving quietly over the keyboard.

Ten minutes passed.

Twenty.

Finally, she spoke.

"You don't have to tiptoe around me, you know."

He looked up, surprised.

"I'm not," he said slowly. "I just... don't want to take up space you haven't offered."

The honesty in his voice disarmed her. She closed the book, unused to his kind of silence—one that didn't demand attention but offered it.

"I don't know what to do with someone like you," she said without looking at him.

Arjun shut his laptop gently. "You don't have to do anything."

His words lingered between them. For the first time, the silence wasn't awkward. It was soft. Like the room had exhaled.

Later that night, she found a steaming mug outside her door. Green tea. With just a touch of honey. The note read:

"Just in case today was a hard one.

– A."

She didn't drink it. But she didn't throw it away either.