The morning sun filtered in, soft and golden.
Asha woke up to the sound of gentle clinks in the kitchen.
Karma.
Cooking again.
She walked out in her oversized T-shirt, stretching with a smile. "You're going to spoil me."
He turned halfway, apron on, sleeves rolled up, quietly stirring something in a pan.
"That's the point," he said.
She sat at the table, watching him with quiet awe.
The way he moved — calm, graceful, efficient.
No wasted motion. No hesitation.
He wasn't just acting like a husband.
He was perfecting it.
Too perfect.
---
Later That Day
Asha was gone for her hospital internship.
Karma sat alone, sipping tea and flipping through a book she left behind — *Human Psychology: Behavior and Instinct.*
He didn't understand why, but something in it… felt familiar.
Words like:
"Reaction time."
"Non-verbal threat detection."
"Combat-induced trauma."
He didn't understand them fully.
But his hands did.
His body knew.
He closed the book. Stood. Walked to the balcony.
That's when it happened.
A black car passed the building — too slowly.
Karma's eyes narrowed.
Inside, a man in a dark suit spoke on the phone… staring at a photo.
A worn, printed image.
From this distance, Karma couldn't see the picture.
But the man's eyes flicked toward the apartment window — just for a moment — then the car sped up and vanished into traffic.
---
Evening
Asha returned.
She found Karma on the balcony, still as a statue.
"Hey," she said, setting her bag down. "You okay?"
He turned slowly.
"There was a car watching the building."
Asha froze. "What kind of car?"
"Black. Tinted windows. I saw the driver holding a photograph."
Asha's pulse spiked.
"…Could have been anything. Delivery. Real estate agent."
Karma didn't respond.
He just kept looking at the street.
Later That Night
Karma stood at the mirror, shirtless.
Scars ran across his back like maps of old wars.
He touched them.
No memory.
But his heart beat faster.
There was a name echoing in the silence of his mind.
A name.
His real name.
It didn't come to him yet…
But it was close.
Too close.
Quote at the End:
"A name is just a word — until you remember what it cost you."