They didn't go back to silence after that night.
That was the difference.The next few days didn't feel like a continuation of something intense.
They felt… normal.And somehow, that mattered more.It started small.
A message in the morning.
"Reached?"
She would reply hours later sometimes.
Sometimes immediately.
He never followed up with another question.
At the hospital, things remained steady on the surface.
The investigation moved quietly in the background—logs checked, staff rotated, access tightened without announcement.
But Shivanya didn't carry that tension into every moment anymore.
Because now—
there were interruptions.
"Doctor, coffee break?"
She looked up.
Aditya stood at the door, holding two cups.
"You don't take breaks," she said.
"You don't either. That's the problem."
She hesitated.
Then took the cup.
That, in itself, was new.
They sat near the side corridor
"You're… different," Aditya said after a while.
She glanced at him.
"How?"
"You stop thinking mid-sentence sometimes now."
"That's not reassuring."
"It's not criticism."
A small pause.
"You look less… alone."
That stayed.
She didn't respond immediately.
Because she didn't have a clear answer.
And he didn't push.
That was Aditya.
Later that evening—
Rudraksh was already inside the hospital café.
Just sitting there, looking completely out of place—and somehow still in control of it.
"You're early again," she said, walking in.
"I didn't want to wait outside."
"That's new."
"Yes."
She sat across from him.
"You're getting used to this," she said.
He looked at her.
"Yes."
She shook her head slightly.
"You don't ease into things, do you?"
"No."
"That's not always a good thing."
"I haven't seen it fail yet."
She almost laughed.caught his attention more than anything else.
They started meeting like that.
Sometimes at the hospital café.
Sometimes outside.
Once at a roadside stall where he sat on a plastic chair like he had been doing it for years—and clearly hadn't.
"You're uncomfortable," she said.
"I'm adapting."
"That's not the same thing."
"It will be."
She smiled again.
It wasn't always conversation.
Sometimes they just sat.
She would read something.
He would check his phone.
Neither trying to fill the silence.
And slowly—that silence became easier.
One evening, as they walked out together—
her hand brushed against his again.
it didn't feel accidental.
Neither pulled away immediately.
It stayed for a second longer.
Then naturally their fingers separated.
Across the hospital corridor—
Rhea noticed.
She didn't need long.
Just one look.
That was enough.
The next move didn't happen in the hospital.
It happened in a boardroom.
Kapoor Infrastructure.
"Rudraksh," one of the senior members said, leaning back in his chair, "we need to discuss long-term alignment."
He didn't respond immediately.
"Malhotra Group is pushing for stronger integration," another added.
"And Rhea is already handling half the external coordination."
A pause.
"It makes sense to formalize it."
There it was.
Rudraksh's expression didn't change.
"You're discussing business," he said.
"We're discussing stability," the older man replied.
"And perception."
Another pause.
"An alliance would strengthen both sides."
No one said the word.
But it was understood.
Marriage.
Later that night—
he didn't go to the office again.
He drove.
Without thinking too much about where.
And ended up where she was.
Shivanya was outside her building when he arrived.
"You don't plan things," she said.
"No."
"That's consistent."
"Yes."
They stood there for a moment.
Then he said it."I like being around you."
She looked at him.
"That's obvious."
"That's not what I meant."
A pause.
"I choose it."
She didn't look away.
"You don't usually say things like this," she said.
"I don't usually feel them like this."