Raghav's POV:

The distance between Aarti and me has been growing for days now, and it is starting to eat at me. The warmth that once defined our relationship feels like it’s slipping away with every moment I try to connect with her. I don’t understand what’s happening, but something’s definitely wrong. Her silence speaks volumes, and it’s unsettling.

What’s happening? Why has Aarti become so distant? She hasn’t spoken to me for the past few days. Did I do something wrong?

Every time I try to engage with her, she withdraws further. Her responses are short, and the once lively conversations we had have dwindled to nothing. I see her avoiding eye contact, spending more time by herself, and when she does speak, her voice lacks the usual warmth it once had. The change is palpable, and I can’t ignore it anymore.

It’s been a week since she’s been this way, and the weight of the silence between us is suffocating. I want to help her. I want to understand what’s going on inside her head, but she’s not opening up.

She hasn't even played her veena in the past few days...

I keep telling myself that I should be patient with her, that maybe she just needs space, but I can’t ignore my own worry. I can’t help but wonder if something is wrong with her, something I haven’t yet noticed.

I spoke gently as I approached her

"Aarti Jaan, kya baat hai? Tum bilkul theek toh ho? Tum itni chhup gayi ho. Kuch toh batao."

(Aarti Jaan, what’s going on? Are you okay? You’ve become so withdrawn. Please, tell me something.)

She doesn’t look up, but I can see the subtle shaking of her hands, the way she avoids my touch. It feels like she’s building a wall around herself, and I don’t know how to break it down.

I sit beside her, giving her time to process, hoping she’ll let me in. The silence is unbearable, but I refuse to leave her like this. I need to know what’s causing her so much pain.

"Aarti, agar kuch bhi hai, toh tum mujhse baat kar sakti ho. Agar kuch bhi hai, toh tum mujhse baat kar sakti ho. Hum dono mil kar isse sambhalenge."

(If there’s something, you can talk to me. Aarti, if something is bothering you, you can talk to me. We’ll handle this together, you and me.)

She looks at me for a moment, her eyes filled with an emotion I can’t quite read. And then, she looks away again, her lips pressed tightly together. I can feel the tension between us, like we’re both afraid of crossing some unspoken line.

I reach out, brushing her hair behind her ear, a gesture that once made her smile. But today, there’s no smile. Only a quiet, lingering sadness.

I spoke again, my voice barely a whisper, "Aarti, tumhare andar kuch hai jo tum mujhe nahi bata rahi ho. Tumhe dar hai? Kya tumhe lagta hai ki main tumhe nahi samjhoonga?"

(Aarti, there’s something inside you that you’re not telling me. Are you afraid? Do you think I won’t understand?)

Her eyes flicker, and for a moment, I think she might say something. But instead, she shakes her head, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.

Aarti’s POV:

His words feel like a lifeline, but I’m too afraid to reach for it. I want to tell him everything - he fears that have been consuming me, the guilt that has been eating away at my insides. But I can’t bring myself to say it. How do I tell him that I’m afraid I’ll never be able to give him the one thing his family wants the most? How do I tell him that I feel like I’m failing him, failing myself?

How do I tell him that I can’t become a mother? If I tell him this, will he leave me?

His gentle touch, his worry, his love - it all makes me feel like I’m betraying him by not sharing this burden. But what if he doesn’t understand? What if he sees me as incomplete?

I finally spoke, my voice trembling

"Raghav ji... main... main maa nahi ban sakti. Woh ek cheez jo main aapko dena chahti thi, main de nahi paayi... main yeh aap se kaise samjhaoon?"

(Raghav ji... I... I can’t become a mother. The one thing I wanted to give you, I couldn’t... how do I explain this to you?)

I feel his arms around me before I even register that I’ve started crying. The dam inside me breaks, and all the tears I’ve held back for so long flood out.