I woke up to the soft sound of running water. My eyes blinked open, and I instinctively reached for the space beside me, but Ojasvi wasn’t there.
The faint hum of the shower from the bathroom made it clear she was already awake and getting ready.
I turned my head toward the clock. It was just 6 a.m. I let out a soft groan, pushing myself up from the bed.
Stretching, I stood and walked to the wardrobe, pulling out my gym clothes. I had a routine—a structured life where everything had its place.
But now, with Ojasvi in my life, things were shifting. Not unpleasantly, but it was... different.
As I changed into my workout gear, the bathroom door opened, and Ojasvi emerged, fully dressed and ready to leave.
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I paused for a moment, taking in the sight of her. She looked fresh, her hair neatly tied back, and she wore a simple yet elegant outfit.
But her demeanor caught me off guard—she was already preparing to leave so early in the morning.
“Are you going somewhere?” I asked, unable to hide the surprise in my voice.
She turned to face me, her eyes calm. “I’m going to school,” she said matter-of-factly.
I frowned, confused. “School? Why?”
“I’m a teacher,” she explained, adjusting her dupatta.
That was news to me. I didn’t know that about her. “Okay then... I’ll drop you,” I offered, though it felt odd that she was rushing off the day after our wedding.
“But you should have taken a holiday today, considering the reception tonight. Tum thak jaogi school se aane ke baad.”
She gave me a small smile, almost apologetic. “I’m going to request a leave only,” she said, as if it were the most obvious thing.
“Still... itni jaldi jaogi?” I asked, a little concerned. It seemed unnecessary to rush this much.
“Jaldi jaungi toh jaldi aa paungi,” she replied, busy doing her hair. “Aap jayiye apna workout kijiye.”
I wasn’t about to let her go alone this early, though. “I’ll come along and drop you,” I insisted. She looked at me for a moment, weighing the offer, before nodding.
“Ok then,” she agreed, applying sindoor to her forehead with delicate precision. Watching her put the sindoor on stirred something in me.
It was a small, traditional act, but it signified a bond between us, a bond I was still getting used to.
By 6:30 a.m., we were both ready and heading toward my car. The morning air was crisp and cool as we walked out.
I opened the door for her, and as I slid into the driver’s seat, she turned to me.
“Aap drop karne ke baad chale jaana,” she said casually as I started the car.
I glanced at her, a little perplexed. “Kyun? Jyada time lagega kya?” I asked, wondering why she was so insistent.
“Haan, toh aap chale jaana,” she repeated, looking out the window, avoiding my eyes.
I frowned slightly. “Mein intzaar kar lunga. It’s not a problem.”
“Nahi,” she snapped, more sharply this time, her frustration bubbling to the surface.
I felt a sting of annoyance but kept my voice calm. “I can wait since I go to the company at 9 a.m. anyway.”
“Kaha na, nahi,” she said, her tone more irritated now. “Mein khud chali jaungi.”
Her insistence stung a little. Was she annoyed by my presence? Did she not want me around?
I didn’t press the matter further, but a cloud of tension settled over us. The rest of the drive was in silence, thick and uncomfortable.
As we neared the school, I stole a glance at her, but she seemed lost in her own thoughts. I couldn’t help but wonder if I had done something wrong.
Maybe she wasn’t comfortable with me yet. Maybe I was pushing too much, trying too hard. I was used to being in control, managing situations, people—but with her, it felt different.
There were boundaries I didn’t fully understand yet.
When we arrived, she unbuckled her seatbelt quickly, eager to get out.
“I’ll be fine. Please, just go,” she said firmly, stepping out of the car before I could even respond.
I watched her as she walked into the school building, feeling a little dejected.
I had only wanted to help, to be there for her. But something about my presence seemed to unsettle her.
I sat in the car for a moment, my fingers tapping lightly on the steering wheel. I wanted to wait for her, but I respected her wish not to.
With a sigh, I started the engine and drove off, heading back home, my thoughts circling around the quiet, yet palpable, distance that lingered between us.
