Where else would I be?
"You followed me every day," she said.
Bruno's ear flicked.
"You absolute ridiculous creature." Her voice broke on the last word, not from distress this time, but something softer.
She pressed her forehead against the side of his massive head for a moment, eyes closed.
Samarth watched his wife and his dog, and felt the love he hadn't yet said out loud pressing against the inside of his chest like something that needed to be released before it broke him.
That Night - Master Bedroom, 2:23 AM
She'd slept for two hours.
Then the nightmares had found her.
She didn't scream—Nimisha's distress never made that much noise. It was the change in her breathing that woke him, the way her body went rigid against his, the small sounds she made that were somehow worse than screaming.
"Nimisha." He turned toward her, his hand on her face. "Nimisha, you're home. You're safe."
Her eyes opened. She looked at him without recognizing him for a moment—still somewhere in the bookstore, still being dragged toward a van—and then awareness returned, and with it, such a visible flood of relief that something in his chest cracked cleanly in two.
"Hey." He kept his voice low, his hand gentle on her cheek. "It's me. You're safe."
She exhaled, a full-body shudder. "I keep seeing the van."
"I know."
"I keep feeling his arm—"
"I know." He pulled her closer. "I know."
"I don't want to go back to sleep."
He pressed his lips to her forehead. "Then don't. Stay here. Talk to me."
"About what?"
"Anything." He settled against the headboard and brought her with him, her head against his chest. "Tell me about your book. The jewelry chapter."
She laughed softly—surprised by the request. "Right now?"
"Right now."
She talked. About the Zaveri Bazaar books she'd been researching. About the Mughal influence on contemporary jewelry design. About a particular motif she wanted to use in her heroine's wedding set.
He listened. Asked questions when she paused. Let the ordinary, beautiful normalcy of her voice doing what it loved best fill the room.
Her breathing steadied.
Her body softened against his.
"Make me forget," she said finally, after a long quiet.
"Nimisha—"
"Not because I want to pretend today didn't happen." She looked up at him. "Because I need to feel something other than scared. I need to feel—" She stopped. "You. I need to feel you."
