sunday evening train. patna to delhi.
same route reverse. sleeper class. upper berth. legs dangling.
monsoon had started outside. fields rushing past. green on green on green. smell of wet earth through cracked window. rain tapping metal roof. chai wallah's voice echoing through corridor. "chai garam chai."
different though. everything different.
shubham watched her sleep. head against window. dupatta slipping. ma had given her new clothes. simple salwar kameez. sky blue. she looked less like runaway bride more like someone who belonged.
his chest did that stupid thing again. tight. warm. terrifying.
she shifted in sleep. uncomfortable against window. murmured something. frowned.
he reached over. gentle. guided her head to his shoulder instead.
she sighed. settled. hand finding his kurta. fingers gripping fabric like anchor.
an aunty across the berth saw. smiled. knowing. approving. newlyweds, her eyes said.
he wanted to correct her. explain. this wasn't honeymoon. this was borrowed time.
but also. maybe it was. maybe every moment was honeymoon when you didn't know how many you had left.
reshma drooled slightly. on his shoulder. left small wet spot on his kurta.
he didn't move. didn't wake her. just watched rain streak across window. felt her breathe against him. slow. steady. alive.
two months. ma's deadline. registry office. legal marriage.
how do you marry someone when you know how it ends.
how do you not.
she stirred. eyes opening slow. saw him watching. saw the wet spot on his kurta.
"oh god. i drooled on you."
"yeah."
"why didn't you push me off."
"didn't want to."
she stared. something soft breaking in her eyes. "you're so weird."
"established fact."
she didn't move away. stayed pressed against him. their reflections ghostly in train window. two people shaped like one.
"how long till delhi," she asked. voice thick.
"two hours maybe."
she sat up properly. reluctant. fixed dupatta. wiped her mouth. embarrassed. looked out window at darkness. "nervous."
"about what."
"everything." honest. raw. "going back. office knowing. neighbors asking questions. pretending we're normal when nothing about this is normal."
he reached over. grabbed her hand. squeezed.
"then we don't pretend," he said. "we just. are. whatever that looks like."
she looked at their hands. "you make it sound simple."
"it's not. brain breaking complicated. but also." he shrugged. "simple. you and me. that's it. rest is noise."
"you're so stupid."
"established fact."
she smiled despite herself. "what happens when we get there."
"unpack. sleep. monday i go to work. you stay home or." pause. "or you go back to marketing floor. your choice."
her smile faded. "i can't go back there."
"why not."
"because everyone knows. wedding scandal. cancer probably by now. pity or judgment. can't handle either."
"then don't go. stay home. rest. plan treatment schedule. whatever you need."
"i can't just sit in your flat all day."
"our flat," he corrected. quiet. firm. "and yes you can. until you're ready. no rush."
she stared at him. something in her eyes cracking. "how are you real."
before he could answer train lurched. announcement. agla station new delhi.
reality arriving right on schedule.
their building. 11:47 pm.
hauled bags up three flights. building quiet. most lights off.
he unlocked door. gestured her in first.
small flat. still messy. still cramped. but now felt different. like coming home instead of just existing.
"missed this place," she said. surprising herself.
"it's a dump."
"yeah. but it's our dump now." she looked at him. shy. "right?"
his heart did that explosion thing. "yeah. ours."
they unpacked in comfortable silence. her clothes in his cupboard. toiletries in bathroom. small invasions that felt right.
then knock on door.
both froze.
shubham opened it crack. neighbor aunty. same one from before. grinning wide.
"arre welcome back! went to meet family na. how was it. did ma approve. when is proper ceremony. you know building wants to give shagun—"
"aunty ji," reshma appeared beside him. perfect smile. perfect daughterin-law voice. "thank you so much. family trip was lovely. proper ceremony will be soon. we'll invite everyone."
aunty ji's eyes lit up. "oh wonderful wonderful. you're such good girl beta. shubham is very lucky. my husband always says—"
"aunty we're very tired," shubham cut in. polite but final. "long journey. tomorrow we'll talk properly."
aunty left. disappointed but satisfied.
he closed door. leaned against it.
"shagun. proper ceremony. invitations." he laughed. broken. "lies growing bigger."
"or," she said quiet. "we make them truth."
he looked at her. "what."
"ma said two months registry. we register. then we're actually married. then it's not lie anymore." she fidgeted with dupatta. "unless. you don't want—"
"i want." too fast. too honest. "i want everything. just scared."
"me too."
they stood there. tiny flat. big feelings. both terrified.
"bed?" he said finally.
"yeah."
they climbed in together. not like before. no floor mattress. no distance. just bed. shared. awkward. real.
lay there. dark. breathing.
"shubham."
"yeah."
"thank you. for patna. for ma. for priya. for." her voice cracked. "for choosing me when everyone else didn't."
throat tight. words stuck. just grabbed her hand under blanket. squeezed.
she squeezed back.
good enough.
for now.
monday morning. 7:15 am.
alarm screaming. shubham groaned. slapped phone. missed. alarm kept screaming.
reshma laughed. grabbed it. turned off. "professional developer. defeated by alarm clock."
"shut up."
"make me."
dangerous words. his brain short-circuited. ears red.
she noticed. grinned. "you're so easy."
"you're evil."
"and you love it."
pause. that word. love.
"yeah," he admitted. "i do."
her grin softened. something vulnerable underneath.
he got up. brushed teeth. dressed. white shirt black pants. laptop bag. same routine. felt completely different now.
she made chai. handed him cup. "be careful today."
"it's just office."
"it's never just office. people talk. don't let them get to you."
"what if they say things about you."
"then ignore them." firm. "i don't care what they think. only what you think."
wanted to kiss her. didn't. still learning boundaries. still figuring out what they were.
"tonight i'll bring groceries," he said instead. "we need proper food. real vegetables. not just maggi."
"domestic bliss unlocked."
"shut up."
he left grinning like idiot.
azure consultancy. development floor. 10:03 am.
walked in. everyone stared.
whispers. giggles. looks.
rohan rolled over immediately. "bro. BHAI. you actually did it."
"did what."
"got married. whole office knows. marketing floor went crazy. reshma from marketing. wedding scandal girl. you. how."
shubham's jaw tightened. "don't call her that."
rohan raised hands. "chill bro. just saying what people saying. everyone shocked. quiet coder guy lands office crush. story of the year."
"we're not story. we're just." he sat down. opened laptop. "we're just us."
"still. respect man. seriously. half the floor tried. you succeeded."
succeeded. like she was prize. like this was game.
his screen blurred. code meaningless.
boss appeared. "shubham. my cabin. now."
shit.
boss's cabin. glass walls. everyone watching.
"sit."
shubham sat. hands sweating.
"performance review," boss said flat. "last two weeks. seven missed deadlines. three production bugs. lowest output in team." he looked up. eyes sharp. "explain."
"personal issues sir. won't happen again."
"personal issues." boss leaned back. "heard you got married. congratulations."
trap. obvious trap.
"thank you sir."
"young marriage. exciting. distracting." smile wasn't friendly. "but kumar. this is workplace. deadlines don't care about wedding. clients don't care about honeymoon. understand."
"yes sir."
"good. because next review is in month. if numbers don't improve. we discuss termination."
blood turned cold. "sir i—"
"that's all. back to work."
walked out. legs shaking.
termination. losing job. losing salary. losing everything.
how do you pay for cancer treatment when you're unemployed.
how do you support family.
how do you survive.
sat at desk. stared at screen. code swam.
one month. prove yourself or lose everything.
pressure mounting. clock ticking. walls closing.
evening. 7:52 pm.
came home. bags of groceries. exhausted. terrified.
she looked up from phone. saw his face. "what happened."
"nothing."
"liar."
he put bags down. "boss threatened my job."
silence. heavy.
"because of me," she said. not question. fact.
"no. because of me. performance drop. my fault."
"caused by me." she stood. "shubham if i'm ruining your career—"
"you're not ruining anything." grabbed her shoulders. "i'm just. adjusting. balancing. i'll figure it out."
"how. you're already working yourself to death for your family. now adding me. treatment costs. registry. everything. how is this sustainable."
didn't have answer.
bell rang before he could try.
delivery guy. medicine package. her name.
he paid. closed door. looked at package. expensive. cancer medication. three months supply. cost more than his rent.
she grabbed it. embarrassed. angry. "don't."
"don't what."
"don't look at me like that. like i'm burden. like i'm expense you didn't budget for."
"i'm not—"
"you are." her voice rising. "your boss threatening you. bills piling. family expectations. all because random dying girl showed up. you should have let me jump."
"don't." his voice hard. cold. "don't ever say that."
"why not. it's true—"
he grabbed her. pulled her close. desperate. "because i love you. okay. i love you. and yes this is hard. terrifying. financially stupid. emotionally devastating. but i'd rather have this. have you. have us. than safe boring lonely nothing."
she stared. tears falling.
"we'll figure it out," he said. softer. "money. job. treatment. timeline. all of it. together. but you don't get to wish yourself away. understand."
she nodded. couldn't speak.
they stood there. holding each other. groceries forgotten. world falling apart. somehow still together.
then she coughed.
small. sharp. wrong.
he looked up. her hand covering mouth. eyes wide. scared.
when she pulled hand away slowly—like she didn't want to see—red stained her palm.
not drops. smear. thick. fresh.
blood.
his brain stopped processing. heart forgot rhythm. world tilted.
this was real. cancer wasn't abstract timeline. it was THIS. blood. now. her.
"reshma—"
"it's fine." voice too bright. grabbed tissue fast. wiped. hiding evidence. "just. happens sometimes. doctor said. normal."
normal.
there was nothing fucking normal about coughing blood at twenty-six.
but he nodded. because what else could he do. argue with cancer.
tissue in trash. red against white. couldn't stop staring.
she saw him looking. grabbed his hand. "shubham. i'm okay."
biggest lie she'd ever told.
she disappeared into bathroom. water running long time. hiding.
he stood there. alone. groceries melting. world ending.
first real sign. cancer not abstract anymore. real. visible. spreading.
picked up phone. typed into google. deleted it. typed again. deleted.
coughing blood cancer stage 4
couldn't press search. didn't want to know.
already knew.
two months till registry.
how much time after that.
how do you steal joy when body's betraying you.
sat on floor. back against wall. head in hands.
phone buzzed. priya.
surprise bhai! on bus to delhi. reaching 6 am. dont tell bhabhi. want to surprise her. ma sent money for treatment. see you tomorrow!
another buzz.
also bunked school. ma doesnt know. dont snitch.
he stared at phone. sixteen. fearless. insane.
should respond. should tell reshma. should do something.
but bathroom door still closed. water still running. her crying she thought he couldn't hear.
and he was so tired. so scared. so broken.
typed back.
ok. see you tomorrow. bus stand which one.
rajendra nagar. 6 am sharp. dont be late zombie bhai.
he put phone down. meant to tell reshma. meant to prepare.
fell asleep on floor instead. exhausted. defeated. forgot everything.
(Speaker: first blood. first real fear. sister coming tomorrow with surprise rescue. he's supposed to tell bhabhi. he won't remember. too broken. sometimes heroes forget things. welcome to crisis mode.)
Cliffhanger → Blood in the sink. Boss's ultimatum. Bills they can't pay. Priya on bus with secret money. He was supposed to tell Reshma. He fell asleep on floor instead. Tomorrow's going to be chaos. But the good kind. Maybe.