CHAPTER 2: THE SPACE BETWEEN US

CHAPTER 2: THE SPACE BETWEEN US

Pia's Point of View

It started with the rain.

Not the dramatic kind, not a storm—just a soft, steady drizzle that tapped gently on the windows like an old lullaby. I'd always found rain comforting, especially when I was wrapped in a blanket with a book and silence around me. But that night, something about it felt different. Or maybe it was me who had changed.

Arjun was on the balcony, leaning against the railing with his arms crossed loosely over his chest. His silhouette glowed faintly in the yellow light behind him. I watched him from the couch, my book long forgotten in my lap. He didn't know I was watching. Or maybe he did, and he just didn't mind.

I got up and walked to him slowly, barefoot, the chill of the floor grounding me. The scent of the night—wet earth, distant petrichor—drifted in.

"It's raining," he said without turning.

"I noticed." I stepped beside him, close enough to feel the warmth of his arm, but not touching. I was always aware of the space between us, and how fragile it still felt, even after a month of marriage.

"You okay?" he asked, finally looking at me.

I nodded. "Just… feeling quiet."

He smiled a little. "I like you quiet. It makes me curious."

"Curious?"

"To know what you're thinking."

I looked up at him. "What do you think I'm thinking right now?"

He tilted his head slightly, considering. "I think you're wondering if I'll kiss you tonight."

I looked away, but my smile betrayed me. How did he know? How could he read the little shifts in me like that?

"And will you?" I asked.

He turned to face me fully, the softness in his eyes catching me off guard.

"Only if you want me to."

And just like that, my heart slowed, then picked up speed all over again. He was always like this—patient, grounded, safe. He made it easy to lean in.

So I did. I stepped into his space, placed my hand on his chest, and felt the quiet rhythm of his heart under my palm.

"I want to," I whispered.

And he kissed me.

It wasn't urgent or dramatic. Just slow, careful, like he was asking for permission with every movement. My arms slipped around his neck, and I felt his hand press gently into the small of my back, holding me as if he'd done it a thousand times in his dreams.

When we pulled apart, I stayed close, resting my forehead against his chest. He didn't let go. I didn't want him to.

After a moment, he kissed the top of my head and whispered, "Let's go inside."

Back in the apartment, the lights were dim. Everything felt quieter, softer—like the whole world had leaned in to listen. I handed him a mug of hot chocolate and teased, "No elaichi this time. You're welcome."

He laughed, the kind of laugh that lived in his chest and vibrated through mine.

We sat on the floor, wrapped in a blanket, our backs against the couch. I curled into his side, feeling his arm come around me automatically.

"Do you think we're falling in love?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

He didn't flinch. He didn't joke.

"I don't know about you," he said, and then looked at me. "But I have fallen real bad."

I smiled. "I really like you too."

And that was enough.

His fingers found mine, lacing together easily, naturally. He kissed me again—not on the lips this time, but on the curve of my shoulder, the place where his breath warmed my skin.

We sat there for a long time. Eventually, we moved to the bedroom, drawn to each other without words. It wasn't like in the movies. It was slow, gentle, full of pauses and shy smiles.

He touched me like I mattered. Like he was discovering a story written just for him. My skin remembered his fingertips even after they moved. My breath caught more from how he looked at me than anything else.

When he whispered my name, it wasn't just desire. It was reverence.

And when we finally lay tangled in each other, with nothing between us but skin and breath, I felt something settle deep inside me. I wasn't just a wife. I wasn't just Pia. I was his.

His hand rested on my hip, tracing invisible lines. The rain outside was softer now, like even the sky had decided to rest.

"You okay?" he asked quietly.

"More than okay," I said. "I feel… whole."

He kissed the top of my head and pulled me closer. "You make me feel that too."

I didn't speak. I just smiled against his skin, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest under my cheek. My heart was still. For the first time in a very long time, I wasn't thinking about the past or worrying about the future.

I was just here. In this room. With him.

We didn't say much after that. We didn't need to.

He fell asleep before I did, his breathing deep and even. I stayed awake for a little while longer, tracing the curve of his shoulder with my fingertip, memorizing the way it felt to be held like this.

Like I belonged.

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