Aarti POV:

Days passed in the same rhythm, with the chores, the responsibilities, and the quiet distance that had settled between me and Raghav ji. Life had become a repetitive cycle of work, dinner, and sleep. Despite the effort I put into making everything run smoothly in the house, I felt like I was losing myself in the process.

But there was one thing that kept me connected to the person I used to be - a part of me that was still mine and mine alone. The veena.

I couldn’t stop playing it, even if it meant doing so in secret. I had no choice but to play in the attic, away from everyone's eyes. The attic was a quiet, forgotten space - a perfect place to keep my secret safe.

Late at night, when the house was still, I would quietly go up there. The creaking of the wooden stairs was the only sound as I ascended, and once I reached the top, I’d uncover the veena from the old sheet I had hidden it beneath. My fingers would gently trace the strings, playing the tunes that used to bring me peace.

The music was like an old friend, familiar and comforting. When I played, it was as if the weight of the world lifted, if only for a few moments. But that fleeting moment of serenity was the only time I truly felt like me.

I couldn't let Raghav ji know. I didn’t want him to feel burdened by my need for this. He would have so many expectations of me as his wife. What would he think if he knew I was still clinging to a part of my old self?

Would he understand why the music mattered so much to me, or would he see it as another distraction from my responsibilities?

I thought of the day when I first had to give up my veena. My parents had taken it away, saying I needed to focus more on learning the household chores instead of wasting my time on music. "You’re getting married soon, Aarti", they had said. "You’ll need to prepare yourself for the life of a wife, not an artist."

And so, I had complied. I had given up something I loved to meet the expectations of my family. But the music had always stayed with me in my heart, and I had vowed never to lose it, even if I couldn’t always play it out loud.

Now, in this quiet attic, I played it for myself. But I couldn’t shake the question that lingered in my mind would my husband ever understand if I told him? Would he ever see that this music was a part of who I was? Or would he only see it as a reminder of a life I had to leave behind to fulfill my role as his wife?

As the last note of my song echoed softly through the attic, I felt a small sense of peace wash over me. But the silence that followed made me wonder - could this secret be the one thing that kept me whole in a life that felt increasingly fragmented?

Raghav's POV:

It had been a few days since  our wedding, and despite all the promises I had made to myself, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. I could see the tiredness in Aarti’s eyes, the way she moved slower than she used to, the way she barely spoke anymore. We had our usual conversations, but they felt more like routines than real exchanges.

I tried to talk to her, ask her how her day was, but the answer was always the same - “I’m sleepy.”

She would smile, but it never reached her eyes. She would sleep, curl up in my arms, and I would hold her. But every night, I felt the distance between us growing. It wasn’t the physical distance,she was right there in my arms,but the emotional distance. She never shared how she was feeling anymore, and it made me wonder - What was I missing?

I left early in the morning for work, and when I returned, it was always the same. She would be busy with chores or already lying down, telling me she was too tired to talk. I didn’t know what to do anymore. I wasn’t complaining. I was worried.

Was she unhappy?

There were nights when I wished she would tell me about her day, about the things that were weighing on her, but all I could do was listen to her quietly drift to sleep.

I wasn’t just her husband, I was her partner, I thought. But how could I be her partner if she never opened up to me?

And so, I kept waiting for the right moment. I kept hoping she would talk, but as the days went by, I felt like I was losing the Aarti I had married, and the one I hoped to build a life with.

Would she ever share her thoughts with me again? Or would I always be left wondering what was going on inside her heart?