"Together, we create a masterpiece of love, with every moment, every laugh, and every tear, weaving a beautiful tapestry of our lives."

R

oohi's pov

The evening had unfolded quietly, the sounds of our shared home gently settling around us. Vivaan had seemed distant, lost in his studio as usual, and despite the house being filled with his presence, it felt as if we were still worlds apart. I glanced at the dinner I had set on the table-a carefully prepared dal makhani, his favorite, waiting for him. I had hoped this meal would be a small moment of connection, but the minutes stretched, and the silence between us grew.

My fingers idly traced the edge of the tablecloth, feeling a twinge of loneliness. It was almost funny-how could I feel so far from him, when he was just down the hallway? I missed him. His laugh, his warmth, the way he used to share moments of his day with me. I wanted that back, but for the past few days, he had been locked in his own world.

I couldn't stay in this quiet, unsure place for too long. I needed to see him, to remind myself that we were still... us. I stood up, the chair scraping slightly against the floor, and walked toward his studio.

As I approached the door, I paused. It was already open, a small crack, and I could see him inside, his hands smeared with paint, his focus entirely on the canvas in front of him. The light from the overhead bulb cast soft shadows on his face, and I felt my heart tug a little-he was so caught up in his work, so unaware of the distance building between us.

"Vivaan?" I called softly, not wanting to interrupt but needing him to hear me.

He didn't answer right away, so I tried again, a little louder. "Vivaan?"

Finally, he looked up, his brow furrowing slightly in that familiar expression of confusion. "What is it, Roohi?" His tone was neutral, not unkind, but distant.

I bit my lip. "That's all you have to say? What's going on, Vivaan?"

His eyes flickered with mild surprise. "I'm working on something important. Can we talk later?"

"Later?" The frustration I had been holding in for days bubbled up. "It's always 'later' with you, isn't it? Do you even see me, Vivaan? Do you know how much I've been trying to understand all of this-how much I've been trying to give you space, but it feels like I'm invisible?"

He stepped back a little, clearly startled by the sudden outburst. "Roohi, I didn't mean to-"

"No," I interrupted, my voice trembling now. "I've been patient. But it feels like you've forgotten that I'm here. I didn't marry you just to live in the same house but feel like I'm alone. I want to be part of your life, Vivaan. All of it."

There was a long, heavy silence. His gaze softened, the guilt in his eyes unmistakable, but there was nothing he could say to undo the hurt I was feeling.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I got so lost in my work, I didn't realize... I didn't realize how far I'd drifted from you."

I wanted to say something, to let him know how much his words mattered, but instead, I just shook my head. "It's not just about you being lost in your work. I'm here, Vivaan. I'm right here. And I want you to see me."

His brows furrowed, guilt evident on his face. "Roohi, I-"

"No," I interrupted, holding up a hand. "I've said enough. I won't disturb you anymore."

The silence stretched between us again, thick and uncomfortable. But this time, it wasn't just my anger holding us apart-it was the weight of what was unsaid.

I turned to leave, my heart heavy with unshed tears. But just as I reached the door, I felt his hand wrap gently around my wrist.

Then, finally, Vivaan reached out, his hand gently brushing mine. "Please, don't go," he said softly, his voice pleading. "I'm so sorry, Roohi. I promise, I don't want to hurt you."

I turned back to face him, my heart beating faster now. The vulnerability in his eyes, the genuine regret, made me hesitate. He was apologizing. And that meant something. It meant that he cared.

I said quietly, looking up at him. "I just need to know that you care, Vivaan. That I matter too."

"You do," he replied immediately, his voice firm with conviction. "You matter more than anything in this world. I've been selfish, so focused on what I'm doing, I forgot what really matters."

He stepped closer to me, his hands brushing the strands of hair from my face, his touch gentle but certain. "You are my muse, Roohi. You inspire every stroke of paint, every color I mix. All of this-this world of mine-wouldn't be the same without you."

I looked up at him, my heart beginning to soften. "Do you really mean that?"

"With everything I am," he whispered, his hand cupping my face now. "You're the reason I create, the reason I keep going. I don't want to lose that. I don't want to lose you."

The words, raw and honest, melted the walls I had built around my heart. I closed the distance between us, reaching for him, my arms wrapping around his waist as I leaned my head against his chest. He hugged me back, tight and warm, as if he was afraid to let go.

"I don't want to fight anymore," I said into his chest, my voice muffled but steady.

"I don't either," he replied, his voice low. "And I won't let anything come between us, Roohi. Not again."

We stood like that for a moment, the silence between us now comfortable, filled with understanding. And in that moment, I realized how much we still had to learn about each other, but how far we had come already.

And just like that, the storm that had been brewing between us seemed to fade, leaving nothing but the quiet certainty that, no matter what, we were in this together.

Vivaan's pov:

I watched her retreating figure, her words echoing in my mind like a haunting melody. "I won't disturb you anymore."

How could I have been so blind?

"Roohi," I said softly, my grip on her wrist firm but gentle. "Please, don't go."

She turned to face me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. The pain in her gaze was like a dagger to my chest.

"I'm sorry," I said, my voice breaking. "I've been so consumed by this project that I didn't realize how much I've been neglecting you."

She didn't respond, her silence louder than any words she could have spoken.

"Roohi, I know I've hurt you," I continued, my tone pleading. "And you're right-it's all my fault. I've always been like this when I'm working on an exhibition. But that was before I had you in my life. I should have known better. I should have made time for you."

Her lips trembled, but she still didn't say anything.

"Please," I whispered, stepping closer. "Talk to me. Yell at me. Anything. Just don't shut me out."

She looked at me then, her eyes filled with a mixture of hurt and hope. "Do you even know how lonely I've felt, Vivaan? I didn't marry you to be a stranger in my own home."

"I know," I said, my voice thick with emotion. "And I'm so, so sorry. You mean everything to me, Roohi. I don't know what I was thinking, pushing you away like that."

Her expression softened, and for the first time that evening, she allowed me to pull her into my arms.

"You're my muse, Roohi," I murmured into her ears. "My anchor. My everything. I promise, from now on, I'll never let my work come between us again."

She pulled back slightly, her eyes searching mine. "You really mean that?"

"Of course I do," I said, cupping her face in my hands. "You're the reason I create, Roohi. Every stroke of paint, every color I mix-it's all inspired by you."

She smiled then, a small, tentative smile that felt like the first ray of sunlight after a storm. "I don't want to fight with you, Vivaan. I just want us to be okay."

"We are okay," I said, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "And we always will be."

Roohi pov :

Later that night, after everything had settled, we lay in bed together. Vivaan held me close, his arm draped protectively around me. His warmth seeped into my skin, and I realized, as his steady breathing calmed me, that we had taken one step closer to understanding each other.

"I'm glad we talked," I murmured into his chest.

"Me too," he replied, his hand softly brushing my hair.

"I think I'm starting to understand you more," I added, my voice filled with a tenderness I didn't know I had.

"Good," he whispered. "Because I want you to understand me. I want you to know how much you mean to me, Roohi."

And as we drifted off to sleep, I realized that, despite everything, we were okay. Maybe not perfect, but okay. And that was all that mattered for now.

Hello, my dear fam! Your love and support means everything. Please vote, follow, and share your thoughts! Follow me on Instagram for exclusive spoiler updates!

Please do follow to get further updates of chapter.

                     Love you all <3