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**Chapter 37 – Cracks and Comfort**
Aanya woke up to the muted light of a cloudy London morning, her body curled on the edge of the couch. A blanket was draped over her shoulders, warm and freshly scented with fabric softener. Arjun wasn't in sight, but the faint clatter from the kitchen said he hadn't gone far.
She sat up slowly, brushing the hair from her face, her mind thick with everything unspoken from the night before. No kiss. No confrontation. No resolution. Just silence, heavy and comforting.
The smell of coffee drifted into the living room.
Arjun stepped out with two mugs, looking tired but not tense. His sweater was wrinkled, and his hair even more of a mess than usual, but Aanya noticed—he hadn't stopped trying.
"I wasn't sure if you'd still be here," he said, holding out a mug.
She took it. "I wasn't either."
They sat down at the small breakfast table, the distance between them just enough to keep them from brushing knees.
Arjun didn't push. Didn't ask questions.
It unnerved her.
"You're being… weirdly calm," Aanya said after a few sips. "Where's the usual territorial alpha act?"
He smiled wryly. "Trying a different approach. Being the possessive jerk didn't exactly work out, did it?"
She looked down at her mug. "No. It didn't."
A pause.
"Maybe we broke something too deep," she said.
"Maybe," he agreed. "Or maybe we just forgot how to fix it."
His honesty disarmed her more than anger ever could. He wasn't trying to win her over. He wasn't begging. He was just… *being.*
"You're changing," she muttered.
"I have to," he said. "Or I lose you."
And for the first time in months, she didn't have a quick answer. She didn't want to say 'It's too late.' Because it wasn't.
Not entirely.
Later that day, she returned to her university dorm, and life resumed. Lectures. Case studies. Projects. But something inside her had shifted. Arjun's presence lingered—not in an overbearing way, but like a bookmark in the middle of her chapter.
She found herself re-reading old texts he'd sent. The ones before their marriage turned cold. Jokes. Tech memes. Terrible puns. A different man. Or maybe the same man, before he let fear take over.
Days passed.
Arjun didn't contact her.
He gave her space—something she had begged for months ago, and now wasn't sure she liked.
Aanya's phone buzzed one afternoon with a message from Shruti.
> *He's not saying it, but I can see it. You're the center of his gravity, Aanya.*
She read the text three times before tucking her phone away.
---
**At SynTech's London Office**
Raj watched Arjun pace the floor of their shared workspace. They'd landed two new partnerships and had a pitch scheduled with a major European client. And yet Arjun hadn't celebrated.
"You're still thinking about her?" Raj asked, tossing a pen onto his desk.
"She stayed over," Arjun said quietly.
Raj raised an eyebrow. "Stayed over or *stayed* over?"
"Nothing happened. We just… existed."
Raj nodded. "That's a start."
"I don't want to manipulate her," Arjun said. "But I also don't want to lose her."
"Then don't manipulate," Raj said. "Be the man she can fall in love with. For real. Not out of pressure. Not out of guilt."
---
**At Aanya's Dorm Room**
Neeta called.
"Your mom's worried," Neeta said, her voice soft. "She heard Arjun's moved to London too. She thinks he's stalking you."
Aanya sighed. "He's not. He's working here. Expanding SynTech."
"Well, what do *you* think?" Neeta asked gently.
"I think… I don't know anymore. I used to see him as a wall. Now I'm starting to see the cracks. And the light coming through them."
Neeta was silent for a beat. "Maybe you both needed the distance to rediscover the choice."
That night, Aanya sat at her desk, writing out her feelings in her journal—something she hadn't done in months.
*He still scares me. Not physically. But emotionally. The way he looks at me like I'm everything. Like I matter more than his company. More than his logic. And I don't know how to handle that kind of love.*
*But part of me is tired of running. What if we tried to meet halfway? Just once?*
---
**Two Days Later**
Arjun came home to find an envelope at his doorstep. No name. No handwriting. Just a note inside.
> *Dinner. Friday. Same place as our first date in London.*
He read it three times, his heart thudding.
It was from her.
And it wasn't a goodbye.
---
**End of Chapter 37**