Lathika stirred the curry in the pot, her mind distracted by the quiet rhythm of the spoon against the metal. It had been a long few months—days filled with back-to-back events, long hours spent planning and coordinating, and trying to balance a marriage with a man whose work kept him away more than she would have liked. But now, the major events were done, and she had a little more space in her schedule until she had to work on the next event.

She had thrown herself into completing the house, something she'd neglected for far too long. Prashanth's unpredictable work hours, and their differences in how they dealt with stress, had left much of the house incomplete. She had been on her own, piecing things together, trying to make it feel like a home.

As she stirred, the warm smell of curry filled the house, and Lathika felt a fleeting sense of peace. Her life was quieter now, too quiet. With Prashanth away again on another long-haul flight, she was alone in the house for the next two days. She had been learning to embrace her solitude, but she realized how much she missed having a little noise in the house—voices, laughter, some sense of liveliness.

She looked at the simmering curry for a moment, then glanced at the clock. It was nearly time for Prashanth to return, and it would be the perfect opportunity to talk to him about something she'd been considering all day.

When he finally arrived home, looking tired and worn, she greeted him with a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes the way it used to. She knew he'd been working hard, and his long flights left him exhausted. But still, there was a part of her that wanted to fill the emptiness of their home with something—anything—that could bring a little spark into their routine.

As they ate dinner, she gathered the courage to bring it up.

"A dinner party?" Prashanth asked, his voice still tinged with the exhaustion of a long flight. He shovelled a spoonful of vegetables into his mouth, and Lathika watched him, noting how hungrily he ate. It was as if he hadn't had a meal in hours.

She had already eaten, but she joined him, sitting at the table while he finished his late dinner. The stillness of the house felt too loud, too empty, and her thoughts kept drifting to how things used to be. To when they would share meals together without the weight of work or silence hanging in the air.

"The house is getting quieter," she said, taking a sip of her water, "and I'm home most evenings now. I thought... maybe a little something happening in the house might break the silence. Like a dinner party?"

Prashanth paused, looking at her, his fork halfway to his mouth. "Sounds like a good idea. Who are you inviting?"

Lathika shrugged, her eyes flicking down to the table. "Maybe my teammates. You can invite some of your friends too."

He nodded as he finished his meal, still chewing thoughtfully. "When are you planning to have it?"

"Next week, on your off day," she said, a hint of excitement bubbling up as she spoke. She could already picture the house, full of life, filled with people. Maybe, it would be the distraction they both needed.

Prashanth stood, gathering his plate. "Okay," he said, his tone flat. He carried the plate over to the sink, and she followed his movements as he rinsed it off. "I'm sorry I'm not responsive enough today," he said after a beat, his back turned as he worked at the sink. "It's been a hard day. We'll talk tomorrow?"

Lathika blinked, slightly taken aback. Prashanth never showed his exhaustion, never let the weight of his long flights affect his demeanour, at least not with her. His sudden tiredness hit her like a wave, and for a moment, she wondered if she had somehow offended him. Had she said something wrong?

"Of course," she said, her voice a little hesitant. "I understand. We'll talk tomorrow."

But inside, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. She had been trying so hard to fill the silence in their house, in their relationship. But it seemed like no matter how much she did, there was always a distance between them that she couldn't bridge.

❁ ❁ ❁

By the time Lathika finished tidying up the kitchen, the clock had long passed eleven. Usually, when Prashanth was home, he would be right there with her, doing the dishes and sharing the quiet moments of cleanup. But tonight, the house felt oddly still without him by her side. She moved about, silently stacking the plates and wiping down counters, the familiar rhythm of the task offering a strange comfort amidst the quiet.

When she entered the bedroom, she found Prashanth lying on the bed, his eyes closed, an arm draped across his forehead. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast gentle shadows on his face, making him look almost distant, as if his mind was somewhere far away. Lathika hesitated for a moment, but she didn't disturb him. She simply slipped into her routine, changing into her nightclothes and washing her face quietly before climbing into bed beside him. The silence lingered, filling the space between them, until Prashanth's voice broke through.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, his words barely a whisper in the dimly lit room.

Lathika turned towards him, her gaze catching the faint outline of his profile. She could sense something weighed on him, but she didn't press. "Are you okay?" she asked, her voice calm and gentle, trying not to make it sound like an interrogation.

"Yeah," Prashanth replied, his tone a little heavier now, "Just had a small dispute with my colleague. It kinda upset my mood."

Lathika waited, giving him the space to speak when he was ready. "What happened?" she asked after a beat, her voice steady.

Prashanth exhaled deeply, the sound of his breath heavy in the quiet room. "I found out that one of my junior pilots is being assigned short-haul flights—flights that are usually reserved for senior pilots. I raised the issue, and it turns out, the guy's the son of one of the higher-ups," he explained, his words tinged with frustration.

Lathika's brow furrowed, but she said nothing, letting him continue.

"I just don't think it's right. If you can't trust the system, what's the point?" he muttered, his voice laced with a hint of bitterness.

"Hmm... did it end well?" she asked, her voice soft, trying to gauge the depth of his frustration.

"No," he sighed again. "It's gone to HR now. We'll see how that plays out."

Lathika could hear the tension in his words, and she reached out, tapping his arm gently to draw his attention back to her. "I'm sure it will turn out well," she said, her voice reassuring. She then opened her arms, inviting him in. "Come here."

He hesitated for a moment before moving closer, his body heavy with the weight of the conversation. He rested his head on her chest, and Lathika wrapped her arms around him, holding him gently but firmly. She could tell there was more beneath the surface, but she didn't ask. He had shared just enough for her to know that his day had been anything but easy.

He tightened his grip on her, as if seeking comfort from her presence alone, and remained silent for a while.

"I'm sorry," Lathika murmured, her words soft with guilt. "I didn't know you were having a bad day and kept talking about party plans and get-togethers."

"It's okay," Prashanth replied, his voice muffled against her neck as he nuzzled closer. "I wouldn't expect you to know, either."

The way his breath brushed against her skin sent a warm shiver down her spine, and she felt a tightening in her chest. The closeness, the weight of his head on her chest, it all felt so intimate, so real. She took a slow, deep breath to steady herself, but it only made the feeling intensify.

Prashanth's hand slid around her waist, pulling her in even closer, and she couldn't help but notice the way her pulse quickened at the touch. The quiet, peaceful night surrounded them, but there was an undeniable pull between them now, something that had been there all along but felt more present tonight than ever before.

Lathika closed her eyes, focusing on the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath her, summoning the sleep goddess.

❁ ❁ ❁

To her surprise, Prashanth was back to his usual energetic self the next day. His smile returned, his light-hearted chatter filling the air once again, and everything that made Prashanth Prashanth was back in full force.

Lathika was in the garden, digging holes for new plants she'd bought from the nursery, while Prashanth sat beside her, digging another hole where she pointed.

"I'm sorry, I was being an ass last night," he said softly, his hands still moving methodically through the soil.

Lathika paused, glancing up at him. "It's okay, Prashanth. You explained it last night."

"Yes, but still..."

"In that case, I'm sorry too," she said, her voice sincere as she turned to face him.

Prashanth's eyes lingered on hers for a moment longer than usual before he smiled, a knowing look in his gaze. "We're both sorry for last night. That makes us even." He leaned forward, kissing her forehead gently.

Lathika pulled back, but it was too late. "I'm sweating, Prashanth," she said, laughing slightly.

"It's okay," he laughed, eyes twinkling with mischief. "I don't mind."

That was it. That was all she needed to feel the tension melt away. Lathika had spent the entire night worried if the problem at his work something that bothers him deeply, but now, with his warm, playful response, all her worries evaporated.

"So, about this party..." Prashanth began, his hands still working effortlessly with the plants, as though he'd been doing it for years. "How many are you planning to call?"

"Just a few," she replied with a grin. "About five in my team. You can invite your five closest friends." She raised an eyebrow playfully. "If you've got that many, we can add a few more."

Prashanth laughed, his eyes lighting up. "Five? That's a tight limit, Lathika," he teased, pretending to be offended. "What if I want to invite all my friends from flying?"

Lathika raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Well, then I guess we'll need a bigger space," she joked. "But if they're that close to you, I'm sure they'd understand the limit."

He chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from her face as he continued digging. "Alright, alright, five it is," he said with a mock sigh, but there was a playful glint in his eyes. "I'll stick to the limits... for now."

Lathika smiled, feeling the lightness between them. "Good," she said, her tone teasing. "I'd like to see if you can stick to that."

Prashanth gave her a knowing grin as he wiped his hands on his pants. "Challenge accepted," he said with a wink, before focusing back on the task at hand, but not before stealing a quick glance at her.

She laughed softly, a warmth spreading through her at how easy this moment felt—like the old Prashanth was back, and with him, a sense of peace.

❁ ❁ ❁

It was a breezy day, the kind where the air felt like a soft whisper on your skin, and the sunlight played lazily across the garden. Lathika had checked the weather report earlier, and now, standing in the garden, she declared with a cheerful hum, "Perfect for an outdoor party." She shielded her eyes from the bright sky with one hand, scanning the vast expanse above her.

Her hair, loose and flowing, danced in the rhythm of the wind, and the sight of her made Prashanth pause. He stood inside the house, leaning against the doorframe, his eyes fixed on her. There was something magnetic about her, the way she existed in the world—unapologetically vibrant and full of life. In that moment, watching her in her element, he felt something swell in his chest, a mix of pride and awe. She wasn't just a part of his world; she was the heartbeat of it.

Lathika, to him, was like the wind—unpredictable yet grounding, always moving and changing but always making her presence felt. He had seen it time and again, during their wedding preparations, at family dinners, and even in the quiet moments shared between just the two of them. Lathika was always the one who made sure everyone was comfortable, who anticipated needs before they were even spoken, whose warmth radiated from every action. She never asked for anything in return, preferring to give without hesitation. It was her quiet strength, and it was part of what drew him to her in ways he hadn't even fully realized until he had her.

Prashanth smiled to himself, thinking of her as he crossed the living room to join her. "Sunshine," he thought, amused by the thought. It was a nickname he had come to associate with her, a little mental note to remind himself of the light she brought into his life. It was perfect.

He remembered the first time he'd noticed it, how her presence had a way of turning a room from ordinary to extraordinary. He'd made a promise to himself then—his purpose was to serve her. Not in the way of a servant, but as a partner, someone who would always show her love through action. He'd vowed to support her, be present for her, and yes, even express his discomfort when something didn't sit right with him. All for her, because he knew that in making her feel cherished, he could truly begin to understand the depth of his own feelings.

Prashanth made his way to the garden, picking up the umbrella he had set aside earlier. Lathika was still basking in the wind, eyes closed, arms stretched wide as if she could catch the breeze and carry it with her. He gently unfurled the umbrella above her head, shielding them from the bright sun.

"You might get sunburned, you know," he teased softly, his voice warm as he slipped an arm around her waist.

Lathika turned to him, a soft smile curving her lips as she squinted up at him. "Thank you," she said playfully. "Yes, it's getting hot, but..." She stretched her arms out, her fingers brushing the air. "It's so windy. Let's stand here a bit longer. Let the wind blow all the fatigue away."

He chuckled and pulled her closer, holding the umbrella steady above them. "Whatever you say," he whispered, his voice filled with affection as he wrapped his arm tighter around her.

❁ ❁ ❁

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the sky in shades of pink and gold, Lathika's movements around the house picked up pace. The atmosphere in the air was light, filled with the residual warmth of the day. Earlier, they had basked in the sun, letting the wind tousle their hair and carry away the quiet of the day. Now, the scene in the house reflected the energy of the evening—tables and chairs had been set up, and Lathika had scattered her favourite picnic blankets across the garden, inviting guests to relax and enjoy dinner in the gentle evening breeze.

The house hummed with anticipation. As Lathika finalized the guest list, she realized the number of people wasn't quite what she had expected. What started as a modest gathering for just a few colleagues grew to include her team, and soon, the number had ballooned to eight from her side. Prashanth, always eager to add more life to the occasion, had invited seven of his friends, with Adhiraj being among them.

"I can't leave out Adhi," Prashanth had protested when Lathika gave him a playful glare after he told her about adding two more people to the guest list.

Lathika had rolled her eyes in mock annoyance. "You never know when to stop," she teased, but in the end, the decision was made, and the guest list was set.

As the clock struck seven, the first of their guests began to trickle in, and soon the house was alive with conversation. The house now buzzed with energy, filled with laughter and the clink of glasses. Fifteen guests—just the right number to make the evening lively but not overwhelming. People weaved in and out of the garden, settled on picnic blankets, or wandered around the food laid out for everyone. The air smelled of freshly grilled food and sweet desserts, adding to the celebration.

It was their first dinner party since getting married, and though it had been a whirlwind of preparation, Lathika's excitement was contagious. She moved gracefully among the guests, making sure everyone felt at ease, serving food, and sharing a laugh with her colleagues. She looked radiant in her element, and Prashanth couldn't take his eyes off her.

As the conversation around him shifted to a more mundane topic about an airline staff dispute, Prashanth found himself wondering—had he ever made her laugh like that? Could he? The thought held on to him for long as he entertained his guests in various topics of their interest.

And it was only after Adhiraj mentioned it casually that Prashanth realized—It's been ten months since we got married.

Ten months. A stretch of time that felt both fleeting and substantial. He thought about it as his gaze drifted to Lathika, who was sitting on a picnic blanket with a few of her colleagues. She looked effortlessly at ease, laughing at something one of them had said, a glass of wine in her hand. Her laughter rang through the air, light and free, and for a moment, everything seemed to slow down around her.

Ten months. In that short time, they had learned more about each other than they'd ever expected. The good, the bad, and the in-between. They'd hit bumps, yes, some of which they hadn't anticipated, but somehow, they were still here. Together.

As his thoughts drifted, a part of him couldn't help but wonder if he had done enough. He had his own doubts, moments of hesitation when he didn't feel like he was living up to what she needed. It was a fear he rarely voiced, but it sat there in the back of his mind—was he enough for her.

His conversation with Varadhan were interrupted when his eyes found Adhiraj, who had gotten up from his seat and saying his goodbyes. Prashanth made his way over and Lathika joined them by the door.

"Leaving already?" she asked, her voice laced with amusement.

"Yes," Adhiraj answered, as they walked towards the door. "I can't be out for long. Elections are coming up, and there's a ton to do."

Prashanth grinned. "It's been good to see you, Adhiraj. Thanks for coming."

"No problem," Adhiraj said, clapping Prashanth on the back. "It's been nice to escape the political drama for a night. And hey, I'm glad to see you two doing so well. The beginning might have been rough, but it looks like you've figured it out."

Lathika laughed, nudging Prashanth with her elbow. "We're still figuring it out, aren't we?" she said with a playful smirk, her gaze meeting Prashanth's.

"Isn't that what marriage is about?" Adhiraj replied with a wink. "Give and take."

They exchanged a few more goodbyes, and after Adhiraj left, Lathika turned to Prashanth. "Are you enjoying the night?" he asked softly, wanting to make sure she was okay, despite the busy evening.

"I think I am," she said, flashing him a smile that made his heart skip. But before he could speak again, her attention was drawn elsewhere.

"Lathika, do you have more ice?" Aditya's voice cut through the air, and Prashanth stiffened. The way he said her name—so incessantly, so earnestly—made something tighten in Prashanth's chest. Lathika smiled, nodding, and walked towards the fridge.

Prashanth watched as Aditya followed her, his presence sticking to her like glue. It bothered him more than he cared to admit. His thoughts raced as he watched her and Aditya interact. Why did it feel like Aditya was always hovering just a little too close? The way he was always quick to offer help, always there when Lathika needed something—it felt too familiar. Wasn't that his job? he thought bitterly.

As the night wore on and the guests began to leave, Prashanth found himself cleaning up the garden, his thoughts swirling. Aditya had stayed until the very end, helping with the final clean-up, and his absence only left an odd silence hanging in the air. When the last guest left, Prashanth stood at the door, watching Lathika gather the blankets.

"So, this Aditya seems to be... helpful," Prashanth remarked casually, his tone more clipped than he intended.

Lathika, absorbed in her task, nodded. "Very helpful, yes. After he joined, a lot of things have been easier for me. He's really good at what he does," she said, her voice soft and appreciative.

Prashanth's smile faltered, and he fought to push down the unexpected feeling rising in him. Why did it bother him so much? He had no right to feel this way. Aditya was just a colleague. But something about the way Lathika praised him, how comfortable she was with him, had a knot tightening in his chest.

"Right," he said, forcing the words out. But the unease lingered. Maybe it was just his insecurity creeping in, but for some reason, the thought of Lathika leaning on someone else like that rubbed him the wrong way.

Lathika glanced at him, noticing the shift in his demeanour. "Prashanth, are you okay?" she asked, her voice soft with concern.

He shook his head quickly, trying to shake off the feeling. "Yeah, I'm fine," he said, his voice more distant than he meant it to be. "Just... tired."

Lathika gave him a sceptical look but didn't press further. She finished picking up the blankets and joined him in, the night growing still around them.

Prashanth tried to focus on the moment. But as Lathika's gentle touch brushed against his arm, he couldn't help but wonder if the distance between them was slowly creeping in, in ways he couldn't quite understand.

❁ ❁ ❁

Hello, happy Monday!

We got 2 chapters to go followed by an epilogue.

How excited are you to finish the story?