"I want to ask you something," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Okay," he said, steady.
She didn't meet his eyes. Her gaze stayed locked on the waves, distant and steady, like she was anchoring herself to something far away. Her voice trembled as she continued.
"If… if someday you find someone you really like—someone who makes you feel more than this arrangement ever could—I want you to go for it. You should."
Arjun's brows furrowed. "Wait—what?"
She pressed on quickly, before her courage dissolved. "I mean… this marriage wasn't something you chose. It just happened. You were thrown into it because of our parents. You didn't get time to think, or to want. So if you ever do want someone else—if that moment comes—I won't stop you. I won't hold you back."
She said it with a straight face. Calm. Measured.
But it was a performance, and a crack had already formed beneath it.
He watched her in silence, his chest tightening. Her voice was trying to sound mature, generous. But her eyes—those trembling lashes, the way her chin dipped just a little—gave her away.
"You deserve someone who suits you," she said quietly. "Someone who fits into your world without all the noise. Someone who isn't… stitched into your life like an obligation."
Still, she wouldn't look at him.
"I'm not—" she faltered slightly, the word catching in her throat before she swallowed and tried again, "—I'm not saying all this to push you away. I just don't want to be the reason you feel stuck."
Arjun's jaw clenched, his brows knit together.
"Shruti…" he said, his voice firmer now. But still she continued, softer, as if she were trying to convince herself more than him.
"There are so many girls out there who are prettier. Smarter. More open. Girls who actually make sense in your life. Girls you could've chosen freely. I just…" She drew in a shaky breath. "I don't want you to miss your chance with someone else just because of me."
He sat with it for a long second. The crash of waves filled the space between them like thunder muffled in velvet.
Then he exhaled, slow and quiet. And gently, he reached over and took her hand.
His fingers wrapped around hers—warm, grounding.
"You really think I'm looking for someone else?" he asked, his voice calm, but wounded at the edges.
She still didn't answer. She didn't nod. But she didn't pull away either.
"Shruti," he said, more tenderly now, "I'm not going to find someone else. I don't want to."
Her throat tightened. Her hand trembled in his.
"I don't know how else to say this," he said, shifting closer to her. "But I've already found the person I want."
Her eyes flickered up, uncertain. "You don't have to say that. I'm not fishing for—"
"I know you're not," he cut in gently, but firmly. "You're not someone who needs sweet lies to feel secure. That's exactly why I'm saying this."
She finally met his gaze—and in it, she saw nothing but truth.
"I love you, Shruti."
The world seemed to fall into hush.
She stared at him, stunned. The ocean behind them faded. So did the stars. All she could see was his face, serious and open. There was no hesitation, no grand gesture. Just the soft conviction of someone who had thought it through.
"I know it's only been a few days. Ten, maybe? Not even two weeks. It sounds insane. But… this isn't a crush. It's not a phase. I've seen you in moments you thought no one noticed—your silences, your smiles, even your storms. And somehow… I feel like I've known you far longer than I actually have."
Her lips parted, but no sound came.
He smiled faintly, cupping her cheek with his other hand, his thumb brushing away a single tear she hadn't realized had fallen.
"I'm not proposing right now," he added softly. "But I will. One day. When you're ready to hear it. When the timing is right. When I can kneel down and say it properly."
Shruti's eyes shimmered again, this time with something deeper. Her mouth trembled, caught between fear and wonder.
She couldn't say the words yet. Not fully.
But her hand squeezed his.
Before he could finish his sentence, Shruti moved.
It wasn't something she thought through, nor something she planned. It wasn't neat, or poetic, or timed like the movies she used to watch.
It was instinct—pure and unfiltered.
One breath, and she surged forward.
Her hands trembled where they rested in her lap, but her lips found his with the gentlest, most uncertain grace—as if she were placing her heart against his mouth and hoping he wouldn't shatter it.
It wasn't fiery. It wasn't practiced. It was the kind of kiss that came from aching quiet, from nights of wondering, from moments of reaching across invisible lines that had built themselves between them.
Arjun froze for just a second, stunned not by the kiss, but by the fact that it was her—his wife—leaning into him not out of obligation, but out of choice.
Shruti didn't know what kissing was supposed to feel like. Her mind spun with nerves. But all she could register was the warmth of his mouth, the sharp contrast between the salty breeze and the softness of his lips. Her breath hitched, heart pounding against her ribs like it wanted to escape and fall straight into his hands.
She almost pulled back—panicked by her own boldness.
But then Arjun exhaled. His shoulders relaxed. And slowly—deliberately—he kissed her back.
One of his hands, already resting on her cheek, moved gently, fingers sliding back into her hair, his palm cradling the base of her skull. It wasn't possessive. It wasn't rushed. It was careful. Protective. Like she was something delicate he didn't want to risk breaking.
His other hand moved to her waist, resting lightly there—tentative, as though he was still afraid this might be a dream.
Shruti shivered slightly at the contact. Not from cold. From the sheer tenderness of it all.
He tilted his head just enough to deepen the kiss—but only slightly. Only so their lips could move together in sync, finding each other with unspoken rhythm. There was no urgency. No battle for control. Just slow, sacred connection. A conversation of breaths and silences and closeness that no language could hold.
Her fingers, curled uselessly in her lap, rose on their own and grasped the front of his shirt—softly at first, then tighter, like she needed to hold on to something solid or she might float away.
Arjun responded immediately, drawing her closer, his grip on her waist steadying. Her chest met his, heartbeats colliding through layers of fabric. Time melted. The rest of the world—waves, wind, the darkening sky—became just background noise to this tiny universe they'd created between them.
Shruti broke the kiss first—but barely. It was just enough to breathe. Their lips still brushed. Their foreheads touched.
She was shaking.
Arjun kept his hand in her hair, his thumb moving in slow, comforting circles. He opened his eyes and found hers swimming—wide, glossy, overwhelmed.
She didn't speak. She didn't know how to.
"I didn't expect that," he whispered, his voice lower now, husky with emotion.
Shruti let out a breathy laugh—half nervous, half teary. "Neither did I."
"You okay?" he asked gently.
She nodded against him. "Too okay. It's scaring me."
Arjun's hand cupped her face again. "Why?"
"Because I've never wanted anything to stay so much," she whispered. "And I'm terrified it might not."
His expression softened like a tide retreating into stillness. "Shruti… I meant what I said."
Her gaze dropped, lips parted with uncertainty.
"I love you," he said again, more firmly this time. "Not because we're married. Not because I have to. But because I do. Deeply. Recklessly. Probably more than I should already."
Her throat constricted. She swallowed hard, blinking rapidly.
"I didn't know I was allowed to feel this much," she said, her voice cracking. "But when you said those words earlier… everything in me just… wanted to respond."
He smiled and brushed his thumb over her cheek. "Then respond. In your way. In your time."
She drew in a slow, shaky breath. "I don't know how to say what I feel. I'm still figuring it out."
"That's okay," he said. "You don't have to say anything right now. You've already told me more than enough."
There was a beat.
Then she looked at him again—more steady this time—and whispered, "But I will say this… I've been waiting to hear those words from you. I needed them more than I realized."
His heart clenched at her honesty.
"I love you too," she said finally, her voice small, but sure. "I'm still learning how to hold it. But I do. And one day, I'll tell you everything. Properly."
Arjun's eyes lit up—soft, stunned joy radiating from them like the stars that had just begun to claim the sky above.
"I'll propose again one day," she added, smiling through her tears. "On a perfect day. With flowers. And questions. And cake. Maybe balloons if I'm feeling dramatic."
He laughed—a soft, grateful sound—and rested his forehead against hers, their noses brushing.
"You beat me to the kiss," he whispered.
"I couldn't help it."
"You didn't need to." His voice dropped to a reverent hush. "That kiss… it said everything."
He pulled her gently into a hug then, holding her close, one hand in her hair, the other wrapped securely around her back. She melted into him like a tide folding into the shore.
And for a long time, they didn't speak.
They just held each other as the ocean hummed nearby, and the stars bore witness to a love that had taken root in silence—and finally, finally bloomed.
To be continued...