Se-Ri's POV
Living with Leo wasn't hard.
It was warm breakfasts and late-night silence. Shared shelves and mismatched mugs. Quiet nods in the hallway. Soft brushes of hands in the kitchen.
But living with someone wasn't the same as living through something together.
And that difference… had started to show.
"The First Cracks"
It began small.
A forgotten dinner reservation.
Then a call during my team's celebration — one he said he'd try to make.
Then silence, well past midnight, when he came home and I was already asleep.
"I just lost track of time," he'd say.
And I'd nod.
Because I believed him.
He wasn't lying.
He really didn't mean to miss things.
But that didn't make it hurt any less.
Rhea's Delivery
When Rhea went into labor, everything was in place.
Bags packed. Drivers arranged. The hospital room booked like it was a hotel suite.
Everyone showed up.
Amisha cried. Rajveer paced like he was the father. Dadaji sat stiff-backed, polishing his glasses more than necessary.
I called Leo.
Then texted.
Then called again.
Nothing.
Everyone had gone in to see the baby. Except me. I was still waiting for him.
He arrived nearly four hours later, breathless. "Sorry. I'm late."
I looked at him — still in his work shirt, tie askew, that familiar laptop bag slung over his shoulder.
"I had a call with Zurich," he said. "I thought I'd make it. I was wrong."
Rajveer came up and gave him a side hug. "Congrats," he said. "Come meet your niece."
But by the time we entered the room, both Rhea and the baby were asleep.
Later, in the car, we drove in silence.
He broke it halfway home. "Did you eat?"
"No."
"Let's grab dinner."
"I'm not hungry anymore. I just want to sleep."
He nodded. "Okay."
He drove the rest of the way without another word.
When we reached, I opened the car door, walked straight to the bedroom, and got into bed.
He didn't ask anything else.