They didn't talk immediately.
The hospital corridor was quiet, late-night quiet — the kind that made even footsteps feel intrusive. Aarvi sat on one of the metal chairs, arms wrapped around herself, staring at nothing in particular.
Riyan stood near the window, hands in his pockets, watching the city lights flicker beyond the glass.
No urgency.
No pressure.
Just two people letting the weight of the day settle.
---
Aarvi spoke first
"I don't want to lose myself," she said suddenly.
Riyan turned toward her, attentive.
"I've spent years surviving," she continued quietly. "If I let someone take over now — even someone good — I'm scared I won't know where I end."
He nodded slowly.
"That's fair."
She looked at him then, surprised.
"You're not going to argue?"
"No," he said.
"Because I don't want to replace your strength. I want to stand beside it."
Her chest tightened.
---
What she needed to say
"I don't want secrets," Aarvi said.
"And I don't want protection that costs me my voice."
Riyan met her gaze.
"Then we don't hide," he said.
"And I don't decide for you."
She exhaled shakily.
"And if it gets hard?" she asked.
"If people talk again… if work becomes uncomfortable?"
"Then we talk," he replied.
"Not retreat. Not distance. Conversation."
That word again.
Talk.
Not silence.
Not avoidance.
---
What he needed to say
"I don't know how to be effortless," Riyan said quietly.
"And I don't promise smooth paths."
She didn't expect him to sound so… open.
"But I promise consistency," he continued.
"If I'm here, I'm here fully. No disappearing acts."
Aarvi swallowed.
"That's all I've ever asked for," she said softly.
---
The terms they chose
No labels.
No rush.
No hiding.
Respect at work.
Honesty outside it.
Support without control.
Presence without possession.
They didn't shake hands.
They didn't smile much.
But something settled between them — solid and mutual.
---
A quiet moment
A nurse passed by, smiling politely.
Riyan checked the time.
"You should rest," he said.
"I'll stay a bit longer."
Aarvi hesitated.
"You don't have to—"
"I know," he said gently. "But I want to."
This time, she didn't question it.
She nodded and stood.
Before walking away, she paused.
"Riyan?"
"Yes?"
"For what it's worth… I'm glad you stayed tonight."
He looked at her — no tension, no fear.
"So am I," he said.
---
As Aarvi lay down later, the hospital lights dimmed and the corridor quieted again.
They hadn't promised forever.
But they had promised something far more real:
To stay present.
To speak when it mattered.
And to choose each other without losing themselves.