After another 2 days, Geetha's eyes were swollen and she no longer insisted that she did not cry.

"How will I know if you don't say what happened?" Her mother's voice was soft this time.

Geetha could understand her mother. She hated it when Ramit did not say what the problem was when she had asked too and she became mad every time.

"I don't know what to say," she said, not knowing where to start.

"What don't you know? Were your senses shut down? Which doctor should I take you to? Eye or ear?" her mother said, "Just say what happened!"

Geetha glared at her mother. "I need rest, I'm sleeping." She looked down at her belly. She knew no one dared to be harsh towards a pregnant woman with a big belly.

Her mother pursed her lips. "Get out of my sight."

Geetha vaded into her bedroom. She did not show it but she was glad that her mother let her off.

Outside, her father sighed at the situation.

∼•∽

Laying on her bed, Geetha felt unusually nostalgic, just like in the last two days. She spread apart all four limbs, having had enough of pretending that the pillow was Ramit and holding it.

She remembered all the times she enjoyed Ramit's company, something that she only noticed now in his absence. She smiled remembering how he would cover up her words, being all sensitive and how everything she said would bring subtle changes in his demeanour.

As her thoughts flew everywhere, she dwelled on what he said at the end. If she lost to him in some aspect then it was about love. She grabbed her phone and searched up 'How to develop feelings for a person' and dive into the never ending rabbit hole of love once again. The first time was when Ramit had first confessed to her during highschool.

∼•∽

Ramit's fever had gone down and he was putting in all his efforts into Hidden. The only noticeable change was how he spoke little and smiled on fewer occasions.

In the evening, his mother called him. He considered ignoring the call as questions popped in his head one after the other. When he was thinking if his parents caught wind of Geetha's departure, his phone silenced.

After a minute it rang again. He picked up.

"Did Geetha go for the checkup? That girl wants to skip it every time."

They didn't know yet. He contemplated if he should break the news.

"Hello?"

"Maa... Did you ask her?"

"Tsk, last time I asked, she said yes. When I asked for the reports she said she didn't go because she felt fine. I don't want to seem like a bad mother-in-law asking everything to be proven. Do you not know if she went or not?" He heard his mother sipping her tea.

"I don't know."

"How can you not know!"

Gulping down his saliva, he said, "She left... actually."

"Now? Where?"

"She's with auntie and uncle."

"Oh? It's good to rest. How come she didn't tell me?"

He looked to the ceiling before closing his eyes and putting his elbow over them. "Not like that... She left..."

After a few moments, he heard his mother sigh. "Weren't you good? What happened?"

"She was acting like she's good, that's all."

His mother took another sip. "Did you say that to her?" She knew her son.

"What good is all that superficial affection?"

"Why do you think like that? She is true to you, Ramit. I caught her crying alone a few times. But she never complained about anything. What made you think she was acting? If she was acting, she wouldn't try to bear everything alone. I don't know what exactly happened between you two before your accident but you made her feel very sad. She did not mind any of it! After all this if you say that, of course she will leave."

Ramit fell silent.

"I was going to call Shanti and have a chat... but I'll call her later. Think about what I said. She's a nice girl, Ramit."

Even after his mother hung up, he had his phone to his ear for some more time. Finally he pulled his elbow away from his eyes and let the light in. He walked to the window and gazed outside. It was a bright day, a stark contrast to his silent sighs.

So what now, he thought, did she have his mother on her side or was he really reading too much into the situation?

He received a call from work and turned back to his desk. As he set his phone on the table midcall to search for a certain paper he knew to be on his desk, his hand slipped, knocking his precious pen off the table.

His breath hitched and he sighed in relief in the next moment. He caught it safely.

Once he finished the call, he could not take his mind off the pen. Memories from the past poured in. During his last year at school, he would eat lunch together everyday. Most of the time others also joined them, Abhay and some of her friends. But he still had chances to be alone with her. She did not talk much but when she spoke, it was always a little different. Not only the content of the speech, but her actions that supplemented it and her sudden deadpan expressions. She had a very expressive face and the shift would just make it better.

Sometimes it would make Abhay choke on his food, sometimes her friend would clutch her stomach laughing on and on, and sometimes they'd all be silenced for the rest of the lunch hour, embarrassed to even look at each other.

When they were alone, they had long conversations about her favourite topics. She'd say others were too immature to understand them, so he was the only one she'd tell those to. During each of those conversations, on science and space, he'd be left giggling by the end. Usually, he would start one of her favourite topics. She'd join in and take the lead soon and satiate his amusement, making him happy until the next day when he met her. Soon it turned into admiration and before long he was head over heels in love with her.

His mother's words also repeated in his head. He gave himself a mocking chuckle. With how many enemies she made, it would be too far-fetched that she'd even know how to put on an act.

He thought back to what happened after their marriage. At first she was brutally honest with him. She told him outright what she wanted to do and also told him to speak to their parents on her behalf. He did.

When he finally told her he wanted to live together, she looked at him incredulously with contempt filled eyes. That was the first time he saw such disdain towards him from another person. Ever since then, it all built up.

He twirled his pen, remembering how she wanted to throw the ink bottle away but put it down under his glare. He snorted with a helpless face. She did not know how to be nice even just for the sake of being nice, but she was... nice to him.

He sighed and carried on with reflecting. When he continued to disturb her, she started avoiding him. When he started questioning her, she started to turn her face away. When he started to hold her back, she finally lied to him.

He dabbed the pen on the table a few times, low sounds filling the air every minute. He still did not know what changed after the accident though. If anything, from all their heated conversations till the accident, she should have become more concerned about her time. Her life was at risk because of him.

He placed the pen on the table. He groaned looking at it.

After coming back to India, she was very good to him, too good to make sense.

Inadvertently he remembered all the little things she did. Like how she swapped their places on the bed for the sake of his shoulder, how she would keep distance whenever he asked, and how she spoke to him relentlessly without getting anything back. All of those were wholehearted efforts.

He leaned on his desk. So what was different from back then when they were friends and now when they were spouses?

Nothing. Nothing was different. Nothing was different about her except that she cared about him.

What was different now was that he felt insecure. As he thought further, his reasons for that did not seem to be true, although his heart still had a speckle of doubt left.

But the possibility that the doubt proved to be nothing but his own misbelief was hard to get over. If that was really the case, he was scared to face whatever he said to her. He hoped it was not beyond redeemable.

The image of her leaving came to his mind. He pressed his frown.

He squeezed his eyes shut. He should not have said those things to her.

∼•∽

By that night Geetha's research did not end. Not a single source seemed completely legitimate. She found quite some great information nonetheless. In the end, she found out she was not in love after all.

On top of that, she did not know how to make him understand that she was not acting. She sat with a sullen face, still searching if she could find a solution.

Just then her dad came to call her for dinner. "Are you still searching for a job?"

"Yes," she said, quickly opening up a certain tab.

"What about Ramit?"

"I'm thinking about him too."

Her father's ears perked up at that. "You are? Do you want to talk to him?" he asked with clear hope in his eyes.

She smiled. "Stop stressing me out. If I want to talk, I will, right? I have his number."

He sighed. Ever since his daughter entered her teenage years, she did not tell them much. Although he never had to worry for her, he still wanted to know.

"Fine. Dinner is ready."

Just in time, she thought, and joined her parents at the table.

∼•∽

Next morning, Veeru groaned as he read about his boss's absence. It was unbecoming of his boss lately! He had to handle that day's two meetings alone. Moreover, they were already a little behind the deadlines their general secretary had set. She was also on an indefinite leave. When the team knew of her absence, they rejoiced and slacked a little. Ever since then, he had a constant fear of her showing up suddenly and asking him to account for the delays.

At home Ramit was watering the home plants. He watered Geetha's a little more. He had singled it out and neglected it before. He shook his head, disappointed with himself.

He said sorry to the plant for every little mistake he could think of. After his monologue, he felt slightly better. But he was scared about her reaction. He did not remember much of what she said that day. All he knew was that he blamed her. Rest was said in a moment of lapse.

First, he had to apologise. As for the question in his heart, he did not know how to put it into words. If he said, 'Why did you change?' then it felt like he was putting her down. If he said, 'Why do I matter now?' then he was putting both of them down.

Even without that reason, he was almost sure that whatever they had would have lasted long if he did not mess up.

He called Abhay soon after.

"Baby, you know when I need you! I was just about to call you!"

"Then come over." Ever since the episode of his drowning, they decided that the place was cursed and not to ever step their feet in that club again.

"I don't want anyone else to overhear."

Ramit told him no one was home other than himself.

Abhay came around noon.

Ramit noted that his friend was too happy. "What's up?"

Abhay hugged himself and rubbed his shoulders. "There's only a week left! I'm so nervous!"

"For what?"

Abhay gave him a mysterious smile before saying, "I'm going to propose to her! On Valentine's! In the training field!"

Ramit smiled and slapped his back. "Finally."

They spoke about all the details but there was one problem. Abhay should not speak to her first within the training ground. Phones were barred in the field. They had to be left in the lockers so he could not use that either. But he wanted to propose to her right there. That place was their first meeting as well as the place where they spent most of their time together.

Amid brainstorming for ideas to bypass the rule, Ramit said, "I should apologise to Geetha."

Abhay was surprised. "Weren't you acting pissed at her last time? I thought she had something to apologise for."

Ramit told him everything, from what he said to Geetha the night they returned to what his mother told him over the phone.

Abhay berated him and asked, "So now, you should go to your father-in-law's house and say sorry to your wife and hope her parents let her go back to you and that she comes back?"

Ramit's face showed worry. "Is it that complicated?"

Abhay nodded. "There's no question of this happening over the phone."

Both tried to solve their problems until they felt hungry. Ramit got up to cook while Abhay whined how neither Deepa nor himself knew how to cook while Ramit and Geetha could both cook. He decided to learn cooking soon.

As the evening approached, they said bye. Abhay did not find a way to his problem, nor did Ramit to his own.

As Abhay stood up to leave, he said, "It probably won't look good but that's the best idea."

They had discussed a lot. "Which one?" Ramit asked.

"Writing 'Hi' on a card and holding it." Abhay had previously dismissed this suggestion from Ramit, saying it had no charm.

"What if she ignores you?"

"What should I write then?" Deepa could ignore him no matter what he wrote, if she wanted to.

"Just write 'Will you marry me?' on it. Anyone would be too embarrassed to ignore that. Moreover, everyone in your club knows about you two."

"Then when do I sing my poems? After she gives me her answer?"

Ramit nodded. His idea indeed had a problem. "Okay. How about writing 'May I dedicate my poems to you?'"

"All the surprise is lost! I will just have a small card prepared with 'Hi'. This is all in case I piss her off that day. If I don't, all I should do is hit myself and cry genuinely." Deepa was able to pick out his empty whimpers for the last two days. That was what called this urgent meeting.

"Okay. Do that then."

They wished each other good luck before Abhay left.

∼•∽

That day, Geetha did not pick up her computer. She needed some time to process all the new information and reassess her situation.

She decided to clean her room a little and reorganise her stuff. It helped her cool down and feel refreshed.

After a while she found something sticking out of a book in her cupboard. Deciding to just push it in, she reached her hand out, but stopped. She took it out instead. It was an old bookmark. She used to make them and write quotes on them, mostly from ancient philosophers.

This one said, 'You have two lives. The second one begins when you realise you only have one. ~Confucius'

Geetha felt as if the bookmark was ridiculing her. "Ha!" she exclaimed remembering how she once said to Ramit that she was living her second life. In the said second life, right now, all she did was sulk secretly and miss him.

She read it again.

Realise, huh?

She sank into her bed thinking. She thought she realised that when she decided to make the most of her life. But she seemed to have realised it again when Ramit saved her. She decided to let go of her rigid and too much opinionated thoughts, and live with him.

Confucius said, one realisation. But she in fact had two already. How could a third one not come? It had to. Not just that, she could have many more too. That was the only way to make her life content. She should rewrite that quote.

She scratched a few words and wrote down some above them, not caring in the least for the beauty of her bookmark. Satisfied, she read it again. 'You have as many lives as you wish. The last one begins when you realise you only have one. ~Geetha'

One life was all she had.

She realised that another time now. Life, time and energy were all limited. She needed this chance. A chance to make her life satisfying, which could not happen without Ramit.

She once again knew what she wanted. She had to tell him she was sincere. Her eyes turned misty. If he was still not going to believe her, she would just sit there, begging and crying.

She checked the time. It was 5:40 P.M. Every minute wasted was a minute lost. She put the bookmark and the book inside and arranged everything back. Then she washed up and chose a saree. Next was make-up. She could do little about the redness of her eyes but she tried to make her puffy eyes look more bearable.

All the while she got ready, her mother sat and stared at her unapologetically, as if her daughter was an alien.

"What do you want?" Geetha asked her, irked after ignoring her for some time.

"What are you planning to do?"

"Solving my problems."

"Do you think your problems are some secrets to making money? What do you get out of not telling me anything?"

Both women pursed their lips.

"Do you want me to come along with you?"

"No!"

"All the best then. If you need anything, tell me."

Geetha muttered a little thank you and packed her bag. When her mother left the room, she relaxed. Her mother made her feel like a failure. She probably was one now. She shook off any pessimistic thoughts. So what? She was going to make things right, anyway.

The time was 7:10 P.M. Given the traffic, she should reach before 9. Her father returned home just then. She told him that she was going back and started off without giving him enough time to recover from the shock.

∼•∽