The approval changed things.
Not dramatically.
Not visibly.
But quietly.
Dinner invitations became warmer. Conversations less formal. His mother even asked Anaya for a recipe suggestion mid-week.
On the surface, everything was settling beautifully.
But sometimes…
When the outside world becomes calm, the inside begins to stir.
---
It started on a Wednesday night.
Aarav came home late.
Not unusual.
But different.
He wasn't irritated.
He wasn't tired.
He was distant.
Anaya noticed immediately.
She always did.
---
He changed, washed up, and sat beside her on the couch.
She leaned her head against his shoulder like she usually did.
He kissed her hair absentmindedly.
But his mind was elsewhere.
"You're quiet," she murmured.
"Just work."
She didn't push.
But something felt… heavier than work.
---
Over the next few days, it continued.
He was present.
He held her hand.
He kissed her forehead before leaving.
He even teased her lightly at breakfast.
But emotionally?
There was a layer she couldn't reach.
And that scared her more than anger ever could.
---
Saturday night.
They were lying in bed.
Lights off.
Just city glow filtering through the curtains.
"Aarav," she whispered.
"Hmm?"
"Are you okay?"
A pause.
"Of course."
She turned toward him.
"Don't answer automatically."
Silence.
Longer this time.
---
He exhaled slowly.
"I've been offered a position."
Her brows knit. "A promotion?"
"Transfer."
Her heart stilled.
"Where?"
"Singapore."
The word felt sharp in the quiet room.
"For how long?" she asked softly.
"Minimum two years."
---
Two years.
New country.
New routine.
New life.
Without warning.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked — not accusing, just hurt.
"I wanted to think first."
"Alone?"
He turned to face her.
"I didn't want to pressure you."
Her chest tightened.
"You think discussing our future pressures me?"
"No," he said quietly. "I think you deserve stability. And I don't know if uprooting everything is fair to you."
---
There it was.
The thing he always did.
Carry it alone.
Decide alone.
Protect alone.
---
She sat up slowly.
"You were considering saying yes?"
"I don't know."
"You don't know?" Her voice cracked slightly. "Or you already decided and were preparing to convince me?"
That hit him.
"I would never decide without you."
"But you already started thinking without me."
The silence between them grew thick.
---
"I've spent my whole life planning ahead," he said quietly. "Calculating outcomes. Making sure no one suffers because of my decisions."
"And where do I stand in that calculation?" she asked softly.
"With me."
"Beside you?" she pressed.
He hesitated.
That hesitation said everything.
---
Tears didn't fall.
But her voice softened.
"I didn't marry you to be protected from your life."
He closed his eyes briefly.
"I married you to live it with you."
The words landed.
Heavy.
Honest.
---
He sat up too, running a hand through his hair.
"I don't know how to share uncertainty," he admitted. "It feels irresponsible."
"It feels human," she replied gently.
He looked at her then.
Really looked.
And for the first time in days, the distance cracked.
---
"I'm scared," he confessed quietly.
"Of what?"
"Of failing somewhere bigger. In a bigger role. In a new country."
That vulnerability wasn't something he showed easily.
She reached for his hand.
"You don't have to conquer the world alone."
"I'm not alone."
"Then stop acting like it."
---
Silence again.
But softer now.
He pulled her gently into his arms.
Not urgently.
Not passionately.
Just… tightly.
As if grounding himself.
---
"If I go," he said against her hair, "I want it to be our decision."
"And if we stay?"
"Then I stay without regret."
She leaned back slightly to look at him.
"Then let's think together."
He nodded.
"Together."
---
Later that night, as they lay facing each other, foreheads touching, the tension had shifted.
It wasn't about Singapore anymore.
It was about partnership.
About breaking the habit of silent strength.
About letting someone in fully.
---
For the first time since the offer, he slept peacefully.
And for the first time, she felt not like someone being protected—
—but like someone being trusted.
---