“She reads at night,” he says quietly.
“What kind of books?”
Neel thinks for a second. “The ones where people are sad but then not sad.”
I blink. “That’s… a surprisingly accurate description of half of literature.”
He beams proudly. “She also likes watching rain.”
“Watching rain?”
“Yes.”
He snaps another piece into place. “Sometimes she sits near the window and just looks outside.”
I picture it immediately. Divya by the window. Quiet. Thoughtful. I realize I want to see that someday. Maybe make her a cup of tea and sit with her.
Neel glances up suddenly. “Why do you want to know so much?”
I hesitate.
Then answer honestly.
“Because I want to know her better.”
He considers that. Then nods slowly. "Good. You should, she's your wife, you should know her the best."
I chuckle, a warmth spreading in my chest. “Thank you for the approval.”
He opens his mouth to reply—and the front door opens.
Both of our heads turn instantly. Divya steps inside a moment later carrying two heavy bags.
Her hair has slipped loose from its clip and falls across her shoulders in messy waves. There’s a faint crease between her brows and her shoulders slump slightly as she kicks the door shut behind her.
She looks tired. Not dramatically exhausted. Just… worn down. Like the day took a little more from her than it should have.
Something inside me reacts immediately. An instinct I don’t fully understand yet. The sudden, overwhelming urge to take those bags out of her hands and tell her she doesn’t have to carry everything alone anymore.
She notices us on the floor and pauses. Her eyes move from the Lego pieces to Neel to me.
“What exactly is happening here?”
Neel grins. “We are building a spaceship.”
She drops the bags beside the sofa and sinks down onto the floor beside us with a tired sigh. “Important work.”
“Very important,” Neel agrees.
She nudges my knee lightly. “And how is my brother treating you?”
“He’s a demanding supervisor.” Neel gasps.
“I am very professional.”
Divya laughs softly. The sound is quieter than usual, but it still warms something inside me.
She reaches over and picks up a Lego piece. “This goes here,” she says, snapping it into place.
