Peace never meant permanence.
Aarvi learned that by noon.
The doctor's voice was calm, practiced, careful — the kind of tone that never promised too much.
"The treatment is helping," he said. "But it's not a short road. There will be adjustments… and commitments."
Aarvi nodded, absorbing every word.
Commitments.
Time.
Money.
Energy.
The familiar list returned quietly, without apology.
Riyan stood beside her, listening — not interrupting, not stepping ahead.
When the doctor left, Aarvi exhaled slowly.
"Here we go again," she murmured.
Riyan looked at her.
"Not again," he said gently. "Just… continuing."
---
The weight she couldn't ignore
Later, while her mother slept, Aarvi sat on the edge of the chair, phone in her hands.
Messages from work.
Reminders.
Deadlines.
Life didn't pause because hearts finally found balance.
"I should go back to the office tomorrow," she said quietly.
Riyan didn't object immediately.
"Do you want to?" he asked instead.
She considered it honestly.
"Yes," she said. "I don't want my life to stop."
He nodded.
"Then it won't."
---
The conversation they didn't avoid
That evening, they walked outside the hospital for fresh air.
The sky was dimming, the city alive again.
"This is where things usually get complicated," Aarvi said softly.
"When normal life comes back."
Riyan smiled faintly.
"Normal has always been complicated."
She looked at him.
"What happens when work pressures return?" she asked.
"When people look again… when choices get uncomfortable?"
He didn't give her comfort.
He gave her honesty.
"Then we reassess," he said.
"Not panic. Not disappear. We talk."
That word — talk — stayed between them like an anchor.
---
Her quiet fear
"What if someday I need to choose?" Aarvi asked.
"Between my responsibilities… and us?"
Riyan stopped walking.
He turned to face her fully.
"Then you choose yourself," he said without hesitation.
"And I respect that."
Her eyes widened.
"You wouldn't fight it?"
"I would miss you," he said quietly.
"But I won't ask you to abandon your life to keep me."
Something in her chest loosened.
---
A different kind of strength
That night, when Aarvi lay down to rest, she didn't feel carried.
She felt supported.
And there was a difference.
She wasn't leaning on him to escape reality.
She was standing — with him nearby.
---
What real life brought with it
Real life brought uncertainty back.
Schedules.
Limits.
Decisions that didn't care about emotions.
But it also brought something new —
Choice without fear.
Support without sacrifice.
Presence without pressure.
And as Aarvi closed her eyes, she realized something quietly, with clarity instead of hope:
Real life hadn't come to take peace away.
It had come to test whether peace could survive outside the hospital walls.