If either of them felt odd about throwing their packed duffle bags into her car's trunk and reversing to drive out of Bhabra the very next day, they didn't acknowledge it. Leaving Chikki and the cows in the care of Suman and Champa hadn't done wonders for Madhu's anxiety, even when Nakul reminded her that both their tormentors were gone for good. Only after Satish had assured her he would check up on them regularly did she finally agree to leave them alone.

"I feel bad for dragging you all the way here," Nakul spoke up. He had been alternating between fidgeting with his files and tapping on the dashboard ever since they had left Bhabra.

"You didn't drag me, I told you I wanted to come." The narrow roads of the forested parts of Sakshinagar widened as she got on the highways of Shravasti, an equally green district but with better roads, giving her space to breathe. A green sign listed the distance between that point and Lucknow, Kanpur and Meerut. "Besides, I need to buy a new phone, catch up on work and stuff."

"When are you going back?"

Madhu wasn't ready for that question, nor what all it implied coming from him. "Next week."

She looked at him, just for a second before she had to snap her eyes back at the road again. Heat expanded in the pit of her stomach, like it always did when she anticipated a confrontation. He didn't press on it. Somehow that felt worse.

The next hour was passed in painful silence as Nakul pretended to peruse the loan agreement. Madhu focused on driving as if she was nineteen again. A large green sign welcomed them to Lucknow in three different languages—Hindi, Urdu and English, prompting her to exit the highway and enter the lively traffic of the UP capital, which seemed much more louder than usual thanks to the festive season.

"Umm...your place is in Gomti Nagar right?"

"Yeah." He told her the directions, repeating them when she slowed down at every other turn. It was noon by the time she pulled over outside his low-rising apartment building that faced a park. Kids of the colony were making the most out their Dusshera break, with the park clearly divided into young cricketers and toddlers on rusted swings. The only adults present were probably their grandparents, lounging on the green-painted benches.

"This is pretty domestic."

Shutting the trunk, Nakul came around to her side with both their bags. "I don't know about that, but it's the safest place I could afford. Come on." He led her inside the gated complex that secured a single five-storied building. It didn't have a lift, so they had to climb the narrow, stone stairs up to the second floor. There was only one other flat apart from his own.

Swirls of dust greeted them when he unlocked the door. Madhu closed it behind her as he hurried inside with the luggage.

His drawing room wasn't big but looked spacious, owing to the minimal furniture. A dull brown sofa set was placed around a glass-topped coffee table. An extra chair, probably a recliner, faced the TV. Nothing except books decorated the shelfs fixed on the off-white walls.

This lack of personal touch carried over to the combined kitchen and dining space, where instead of a proper table he had four bar stools next to the outer slab. A couple of dull landscape paintings hung from the walls. No photographs.

Madhu poured herself a glass of water from the R.O. purifier, water she almost choked on when he walked out of the bedroom, changed into grey slacks and blazer over a cotton shirt. White. Her favourite colour on him.

"A tie would have been too much right?"

"Even this is too much," she found herself saying, continuing to eye him nonetheless. "They're your friends right?"

"We're not exactly close and the meeting's in their office."

"Then you look perfect." She grinned. "Sure you don't want me to come with you?"

"Nah, I can handle this." Nakul straightened after tying his shoes. "You don't want to ignore your own work on my account."

She sucked in a breath, unsure whether he was only talking about the loan agreement or something more. Before Madhu could find the words to question him, he had shoved his keys and wallet in his pocket, lifted the large folder from the counter and walked out. Not once glancing at her.

The screen of her new phone lit up when Madhu inserted the battery and her sim in it. Stretching on the sofa in the deserted apartment, she sighed as her toes breathed for the first time that day, having been squeezed into pointy flats since dawn. She knew that her bandages needed to be changed but didn't have enough energy to get up from her position, especially when the well-worn sofa moulded comfortably to the shape of her form. Besides, she had no idea where he kept his medicines. The idea of snooping around his house didn't sit well with her given that she was quite sure Nakul wasn't her biggest fan at the moment.

It was dusk and he was yet to return. Madhu had gone to the nearest Nokia store to buy a new phone, withdrawn some more cash from the ATM in the same market, and then walked around for a bit while chewing on two street-side samosas before letting herself into the empty flat.

After she was done checking with Sattu about everything back home, she let the drowsiness take over her body, eyes drooping shut.

Her nap was broken when someone shook her shoulder. Madhu blinked away the glare of the tube light, focusing on Nakul kneeling on the carpet next to her. He had ditched his blazer, shirt sleeves folded up.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"You need to change those bandages."

"Later," she said, sitting up to make room for him on the couch and patting the space.

"I got the loan."

"I knew you would."

"Come here."

He caught her mouth in the gentlest of kisses, eliciting a gasp from her before she relaxed and leaned into it, offering more than he took. His hand didn't move from the back of her head, fingers tangling in the bird's nest of her nap hair while another cupped her cheek. Holding on to his wrist she was torn, wanting them lower but also desperate to prolong this moment for as long as possible. Breathless, he pulled back before she could make that decision.

"I don't...want this to end next week, or ever actually." He closed his eyes, as if every word was a physical pain to him. "I don't care if this scares you, and I also know your work is important and I don't want you to give that up but, I can't...not again..."

Never had someone's inability to articulate basic sentences made Madhu nearly cry from happiness. He wanted more, and she did too.

"Me neither Nakul I didn't, couldn't, bring up the topic. Going back before Diwali was always the plan and, well, whatever happened was so abrupt and—"

"I know."

"We'll figure something out. I can take flights to Lucknow for weekends. You'll be here right? Now that the factory is coming through. Or maybe—"

"Later," he said, hints of a smile curving his lips. "We still have seven days, don't we?"

She nodded.

"Good. Now let's change those bandages."

He insisted on doing it for her, dismissing her protests about how awkward it made her feel. Once he was done, he got up to throw away the old ones. She heard him moving around in the kitchen and followed the sound to see him lay out what looked like three-days worth of take out on the slab.

"You hungry?" He asked, without turning around.

"Starving."

"Chinese or pizza?"

She thought for a moment. "Pizza."

"Noodles for breakfast then."

"I'll be back in a minute, need to get out of these jeans."

"Don't bother getting into anything else," he muttered.

"Huh?"

"Nothing," he said, grinning over his shoulder.

Shaking her head, Madhu entered his room where he'd placed their bags. Taking out a pair of white leggings, she quickly changed into them and decided not to replace her kurta since it was comfortable enough. Nakul was already on his second slice of spicy mushroom farmhouse when she took the stool next to him, pulling the box towards her.

"Sorry, you were taking a lot of time."

Rolling her eyes, she bit into the cheesy goodness. "Two minutes is not a lot."

They talked about about the loan agreement. Then his lease on the land he had booked for his factory, thanks to the help of Sunanda's father who had arranged the license process to go smoothly. He was worried about all the work that lay ahead of him, but it was overshadowed by the visible relief in his eyes over how his plan for Bhabra was falling into place. Halfway through their third or fourth slice, he got up abruptly. "You need anything to drink? I've got Black Label, Bira and orange juice."

"Bira," she said through a mouthful.

He poured whisky for himself and slid the uncapped beer bottle towards her. Sipping on their drinks, they continued talking about his plans, their favourite authors—both loved Vikram Seth—and how neither of them had the time or energy to bother watching television.

All the while Madhu was becoming increasingly aware of their proximity, feeling heat seep from the spot where her knees bumped into his. Seeping up, up, up, until it didn't. His stray, teasing, casual brushes against her thighs weren't helping either. She spun away from him to face the counter the third time that happened, crossing her legs.

He didn't notice, or at least pretended so. But she was sure she heard a streak of smugness in his voice as he continued talking about An Equal Music. Something about how Seth's descriptions made more sense to him now than when he had first read it as a teen. In spite of her current distraction, she made a mental note to reread the novel. To try and locate the way Nakul viewed it, now that he was unable to enjoy music the way he used to.

They finished their meal, and Madhu wasted no time in hopping down, mumbling something about brushing her teeth.

He groaned behind her as he grabbed her waist, giving in.

"Alright you win," Nakul breathed against her lips, kissing her like she wanted him to, like he had been holding back earlier.

He didn't hold back now.

Trying to stumble through the apartment as quickly as possible, they ended up making several stops. At the edge of the counter, the locked door of the spare bathroom, against the wall of his bedroom, until finally they fell, a mesh of limbs and half undone buttons.

He mumbled something about liking her leggings, easy access or whatever, and then she lost track of her thoughts. Of everything but him.

Almost a month of being woken up by angry birds made the noise of morning rush hour outside seem tame. Nonetheless, the distant honks were enough to make her eyes snap open. She took a moment to bask in the memories of the night before, looking at an asleep Nakul next to her, expression more serene than it ever was when he was awake. This hadn't been their first time together, but it felt as if they were somehow more connected then they had been before, thanks to their conversation before.

Eventually, she got up, careful to not disturb him. Slipping into her discarded kurta, she unzipped her bag to take out fresh clothes and padded out of the room to the bathroom outside. Only after she was done showering and washing her hair did she notice the absence of a towel. She had forgotten to take it out of her bag. Using her old kurta to wipe herself, she bundled up her hair and stepped out in search of spare towels.

Not wanting to wake up Nakul, she entered the other bedroom right across from his. Like the rest of the house, it was sparsely furnished with nothing but a wooden cupboard and bed. She beelined for the cupboard, kneeling down when she spotted fresh sheets on the bottom shelf. She opened the drawer above it, hoping to find a clean towel.

Instead she found a neat pile of envelopes, not official looking like electricity bills, but fancy ones. The likes which carried birthday cards or rakhies.

All thoughts about drying her hair now out the window, she gingerly picked up the topmost one, dated less than a week old. It opened and out came three stapled sheets of paper.

A letter.