Part 2
Memories never fade
That evening, Nila found herself glancing at the clock more often than usual.
Nine o'clock.
That was usually when Arjun returned home.
She sat on the edge of her bed, pretending to scroll through her phone, but her attention remained fixed on the time.
For the first time in many months, she felt like talking to him.
Not to argue.
Not to blame.
Just to talk.
At exactly nine, she stepped out of her room.
The hallway was empty.
She looked toward the entrance door.
Nothing.
No sound of a car.
No footsteps.
No Arjun.
A small disappointment settled in her heart.
She waited.
Nine-thirty.
Ten.
Ten-thirty.
Still nothing.
---
Meanwhile, Arjun remained at the office.
The project deadline was approaching, and the entire team was working intensely.
One by one, employees packed their bags and left.
The office floor slowly became quieter.
Around eleven o'clock, Arjun's superior walked toward him.
"Arjun, it's getting late."
He looked at the unfinished reports.
"We can continue tomorrow morning if necessary."
Arjun shook his head.
"No, sir."
The superior raised an eyebrow.
"You sure?"
"Yes, sir."
Arjun turned toward his teammates.
"What about you guys?"
One of them smiled.
"We'll stay and finish it."
The others agreed.
The superior nodded.
"Alright then. Don't stay too late."
With that, he left.
The night continued.
Twelve o'clock arrived.
Then one.
Then two.
---
Back at home, Nila woke up suddenly.
The house was still silent.
She looked at the clock.
12:07 AM.
Arjun still hadn't returned.
For a moment, worry replaced her pride.
She picked up her phone.
Her fingers automatically searched for his contact.
Arjun.
The number appeared on the screen.
Her thumb hovered above the call button.
Just one tap.
That was all it would take.
Just one tap.
She stared at the screen for several seconds.
Then slowly lowered the phone.
A new thought entered her mind.
Maybe he doesn't want to come home.
Maybe he doesn't want to talk.
Maybe he's happier staying away.
The phone slipped from her hand onto the bed.
She switched off the screen.
But even then, she couldn't bring herself to lock the front door.
A small part of her still waited.
And eventually, sleep claimed her.
---
At 2:30 in the morning, Arjun finally arrived home.
Exhausted.
Mentally drained.
Physically tired.
He unlocked the gate and entered quietly.
The house was asleep.
As he walked past Nila's room, he slowed down.
A strange feeling stopped him.
For a brief moment, he expected his phone to vibrate.
A missed call.
A message.
Anything.
But there was nothing.
She didn't call.
She didn't text.
She didn't ask where he was.
Arjun smiled bitterly.
Another misunderstanding was born.
She doesn't care anymore.
He believed it.
Without realizing that only a few hours earlier, she had been staring at his contact number.
Waiting.
Hoping.
Wanting to call.
He entered his room and closed the door.
Another opportunity lost.
Another silence victorious.
---
The following week passed almost identically.
Monday.
Tuesday.
Wednesday.
Thursday.
Friday.
The routine never changed.
Arjun left at nine.
Nila left around eleven.
They returned home separately.
They ate separately.
They slept separately.
The same roof.
The same house.
Different worlds.
Sometimes they crossed each other in the hallway.
Sometimes they heard each other's footsteps.
Sometimes they stood on opposite sides of a door, wanting to speak.
Yet neither did.
Pride built walls.
Silence built prisons.
And every day, those walls grew taller.
---
Saturday arrived.
For the first time all week, neither had work.
Yet the house remained as quiet as ever.
Arjun lay on his bed scrolling through his phone before deciding to read an book.
He walked to his cupboard searching for it.
After several minutes of searching, he finally found the book.
But something else caught his attention.
A small ring box.
He froze.
Beside it lay another identical box.
Their engagement rings.
Slowly, he sat down on the bed.
His fingers opened the box.
The ring inside reflected the afternoon sunlight.
And suddenly...
The memories returned.
---
At the same time, in her room, Nila decided to listen to music.
Maybe it would distract her.
Maybe it would quiet her thoughts.
Song after song played.
Then suddenly—
A familiar melody filled the room.
Their song.
The song that had once belonged only to them.
Nila opened her eyes immediately.
Every note carried a memory.
Every lyric carried a piece of their past.
And then she remembered something Arjun had once told her while they listened to that very song together.
"When the world feels heavy, music feels light. And when the world feels light, remember that I'm beside you. I'll always be with you."
The memory hit her heart like a storm.
---
Across the hallway, Arjun stared at the ring.
He remembered the day they bought it.
The original design existed only for men.
Nila had refused to choose a different one.
So they spent an entire day searching shop after shop before finally finding a jeweler willing to create a matching design.
He remembered their excitement.
Their wedding plans.
The house they wanted to build.
The children they dreamed about.
The future they had spent six years imagining together.
He remembered lying on Nila's lap during the drive home.
Her fingers running gently through his hair.
Her voice soft and warm.
"When you look at this ring, you'll remember me."
She had smiled.
"Even if this ring breaks someday, I won't."
"Even if the world changes, I'll still be standing beside you."
"Your dream is my dream."
"And your future is our future."
A tear fell onto the ring box.
Then another.
Then another.
---
In her room, Nila could no longer stop crying.
The song felt different now.
Once it had sounded beautiful.
Now it sounded painful.
The music that once brought comfort now carried heartbreak.
Arjun was only a few rooms away.
Not even fifteen meters.
Yet somehow he felt thousands of miles away.
The memories kept coming.
Their first meeting.
Their first date.
Their college days.
Their proposal.
Their wedding.
Every promise.
Every smile.
Every dream.
Everything.
The song ended.
Nila immediately played it again.
She wasn't ready to let it go.
Not yet.
---
That night, both of them reached the same conclusion.
Arjun closed the ring box.
Maybe letting her go is the only way to make her happy.
Maybe she deserves a better life.
Maybe peace is more important than love.
He placed the box beside him and eventually fell asleep.
Meanwhile, Nila removed a tear from her cheek.
Maybe divorce will finally give him peace.
Maybe he'll smile again.
Maybe he'll find happiness without me.
The song continued playing softly in her headphones.
Eventually, she fell asleep too.
---
The next morning, Arjun carefully placed the ring box back inside the cupboard.
Then he locked it away.
Along with the memories.
Along with the feelings.
Or at least he tried to.
Nila removed her headphones and switched off the music.
She too decided to lock her emotions away.
Sunday passed slowly.
The house remained silent.
The kitchen remained empty.
The hallway remained cold.
Even the small garden outside looked neglected.
Once, they had planted every flower together.
Now the plants survived on occasional care, receiving water from one person one day and the other person the next.
Just enough to stay alive.
Not enough to truly grow.
Much like their marriage.
Sometimes, their house reminded them of a beautiful cage.
Inside that cage lived two birds.
Both had wings.
Both knew how to fly.
Both dreamed of the same sky.
Yet neither dared to leave the perch they had chosen.
They were not trapped by walls.
They were trapped by silence.
By pride.
By misunderstandings that had grown larger than the love that created them.
Arjun and Nila still carried countless dreams within them—the dream house they once planned, the children they once talked about, the journeys they promised to take together, and the life they had spent years imagining.
Those dreams were still alive.
But like birds inside a cage, they remained locked away, unable to spread their wings.
The door was not even closed.
All it would take was a little courage.
A conversation.
A single step.
Yet neither of them moved.
And so they remained there, watching their dreams through the bars of their own silence.
The sun continued to shine outside.
Yet somehow, inside that house, everything still felt dark.
