Momentary breaks never became permanent. What wrapped two people in a brief, fluid breeze of calmness eventually turned into a memory confined in the deepest depths of the heart once reality hit. 

It felt as if that small fragment of memory would rise like a burning flame and bring warmth, but instead it flickered out quietly, leaving behind only a faint, cool sensation; nothing more than the starkness of harsh reality.

When Rohit and Shreetama returned to Kolkata, everything seemed stressfully ordinary again. Their classes resumed as vacations were over. Assignments piled up. Rohit stayed at his apartment while Shreetama went back to hers, living with her grandmother.

Nights were the worst.

Rohit would return to his quiet apartment, open his books, and feel his focus slip every few minutes as his mind drifted back to her. Sometimes, when it became too much to bear, they would get on late-night calls.

"Are you awake?" he whispered. "I can't sleep!"

"You think I can sleep?" she sighed softly, "This is the only time we can speak."

Rohit smiled into the darkness. "I wish I could come down... just for five minutes."

He could literally jump a few stairs and embrace her in a warm hug, but he wasn't allowed to reach for her whenever he wished.

Shreetama struggled too. Her grandmother's presence meant she had to be extra careful in hiding every emotion that threatened to spill out. A lot of the people knew, including her grandmother, about the relationship, but marriage? No!

"I want to touch you," Rohit said and noticed Shreetama falling silent. "Shree?" he called.

She took a deep breath, saying, "You are so close, yet so far..."

Sometimes the call stretched till 3 a.m., both lying silently on their beds, simply listening to each other breathe because that was all they could be.

They met between lectures and whenever Rohit got the chance to steal her away for brief dates.

Rohit caught her hand and pulled her behind the cafeteria pillar, where no one usually went.

"You look tired," he had murmured, brushing her cheek with his thumb.

"Because you are not letting me sleep, and I want to stay awake all night just to keep hearing your voice!" She had smiled, looking into his eyes.

His eyes darkened as he leaned, his lips moving closer to hers while her breath hitched. "Rohit... someone will see."

"Let them," he whispered, pulling her in for a deep, heated kiss. Their lips crushed while he kept kissing her harder, almost forgetting that they were still inside the college premises.

"Don't forget. Tomorrow we are going out!" Rohit reminded her as she walked back towards her classes. She didn't deny. She was scared, but the thrill of spending time with him kept her going.

Semester exams were close, so in the name of buying books, they got some time away from the society and their campus in the streets of 'Boi Para'. 

They walked through the narrow lanes of College Street, pretending to browse old paperbacks while standing too close. Rohit leaned down once and murmured, "No one from college comes here at this hour."

Shreetama shot him a look. "That is not the point."

He smirked and pulled her into the corner of a dusty bookstore, kissing her long and slow but with so much desperation. His fingers were tangled in her hair, her hand gripping his shirt like she had been starved for days, but at the back of their minds, that constant feeling of getting caught lingered.

When they finally separated, breathless, she mumbled, "We are going to get caught someday."

"Worth it," he winked.

So, yes, every meeting came with the fear of being seen, and then the goodbyes! That was a fucking cruel thing! 

Staying in the same building yet behaving as if they had the distance of seven oceans and thirteen rivers between them. Legally married but separated by society norms!

At the end of the week, they sat under the big tree behind the campus, hugging each other in the dark. They knew they would be late getting back home, but on such rare evenings, they didn't care.

"A week!" Rohit muttered, staring at their joined hands resting on his chest. "A week of marriage and now we're behaving like we had a divorce."

"Tsk, must you have to be so harsh..." Shreetama paused him and kissed his cheek.

"What else do you want me to say?" He squeezed her hand tighter. "I miss you like hell and yet we cannot stay together."

Her eyes softened. "I know. I miss you more." She raised her head and dropped a kiss on his lips. "Why not consider this as the hardest time, and this will slowly pass..."

Yes, it was hard, especially now that they were married. Although they had been in love for five odd years, staying apart after just a few days of marriage was torturous. 

The bond was still new, tender, and filled with fresh emotions; for God's sake, they were still in their honeymoon phase, naturally, the distance of a few floors seemed bloody long.

The excitement of beginning a life together suddenly clashed with the reality of separation, making even small moments feel heavy. The comfort of having their partner close was replaced with a constant longing, and the distance tested their patience and emotions in ways they never expected so early in their marriage.

Slowly, this separation, this constant alert mixed with the chaos of their reality, started to take a toll, and suddenly it was too much to handle.

"Rohit, the fest dates are out, and also, didun is going to Haridwar for a few weeks, so we can—"
Shreetama's voice trailed off the moment she burst into his apartment to discuss that Uma dida was leaving for a pilgrimage tour, and with the college fest coming up, they could spend more time together.

However, seeing him stand in the middle of the room, tossing shirts into a half-zipped backpack like he was fighting a war, confused her. His jaw was clenched, his hair messier, which was unusual, and his muttered curses filled the room before she could finish her sentence.

"What's going on?" she asked, stepping closer.

Rohit didn't even look up. "Perks of having a notorious younger brother!" he grunted.

"Huh? Wait—you mean, Vedant? What has he done now?" Shreetama hurried to his side, reaching out to fold a t-shirt he was aggressively crumpling.

Rohit snatched the shirt back and shoved it into the bag, then stood letting her fold his other clothes. "Messed up! Again!"

He stood still for a second, hands on his hips, breathing hard like he was trying not to explode. Shreetama had seen him angry before, but never this helplessly aggravated.

"What do you mean by 'messed up'? Rohit, what did he do?" she asked, voice shaky.

Rohit ran a hand down his face. "He rescued some woman from local goons in the forest and got tangled in police nonsense—"

"WHAT!" Shreetama almost shrieked.

"I managed to shut the case down," Rohit nodded throwing in another pair of jeans. "Thanks to our network but what the fuck was he even doing in that forest?"

"May be some field trip from the school?" Shreetama tried to reason, but in a low voice.

"Field trip?" Rohit huffed. "I wouldn't be surprised if he was smoking weed in the names of field trip but—"

He paused and Shreetama kept staring, letting him gather his thoughts.

"—but his principal wants to meet our parents. Tomorrow!" Rohit exhaled in frustration. "And this is not the first time he has got into trouble. The complains from his boarding school keeps piling up. No matter how much we scold him, that ass just wouldn't listen! And now this— he has gone too far!"

Shreetama's eyes widened. "Rohit, what if he's... falling into the wrong group? Getting influenced? Boys at that age—"

"Influenced?" Rohit scoffed sharply, almost laughing in disbelief. "Shree, wait till you meet him one day! The kind of rotten mango that idiot is? He would influence others, not get influenced!"

She flinched a little at the harshness in his voice.

He kept pacing, kicking the bag to expand space. "This boy is making me nuts! You know—" he pointed at himself, exasperated "—you were my first. I lost my virginity with you at this age and my brother—my STUPID, BRILLIANT, MAN-WHORE brother—went and did it with a school nurse at fifteen!"

Shreetama gasped. "WHAT?! A school nurse? —Oh my god—this is serious! Rohit, what if boarding life is too much for him and he is missing home? What if the nurse manipulated him? What if someone blackmailed him? What if—"

"Oh for—Shreetama, PLEASE!" Rohit snapped, throwing his hands up. "Not EVERYTHING is a fiction book, and not every teen is manipulated! He's not traumatised, okay? He got CAUGHT! With the nurse. In Action! And he was on the verge of getting rusticated!"

Shreetama froze, swallowing. "I—I'm just... scared. What if this becomes worse? What if he ruins his life? What if the police—"

"Shree, STOP panicking." His voice cracked with frustration. "I don't need more stress right now."

She faltered, trying to put a hand on his arm. "I'm not trying to stress you... I just... I don't know how to help—"

"That's the problem," he muttered under his breath before he could stop himself.

She blinked. "What?"

Rohit shut his eyes, forcing a long breath. He didn't want to say it. But the disappointment was already running through his mind. He had expected her to steady him, to be bold, to be calm, to tell him he could handle it. Instead she looked like she might cry.

But the rising lava of anger towards Ved drowned every other emotion.

"Nothing," he muttered, shaking his head. "Forget it."

Shreetama stepped closer, voice small. "Rohit... you should go. I know. I know you need to. I'll... wait for you."

He exhaled, finally looking at her properly. She was trying—just failing.

"I know," he said softly, though the tension didn't leave his shoulders. "I just need to get to him before something bigger blows up and before our parents come to know about his reckless lifestyle."

Rohit zipped the bag hard. "I'll call you when I reach."

"Okay," she whispered, wishing she could say or do something smarter, stronger, steadier. But all she could manage was placing a shaky hand on his chest for a second before stepping back.

Rohit brushed past her, pausing only once at the door. "Can you please lock the door and keep the keys with you? Thanks." He didn't wait to hear her reply. The frustration, fear, disappointment, and anger—they all swirled together, but in the end, only one emotion won. The brotherly instinct.

He had to fix Ved first. His life was already paused, so it could wait. 

"That was the first crack I didn't see coming..." Dada's voice shook as he narrated a part of his past that brought us to the present situation. Or probably, it was just the beginning, as he said, yet when he spoke, Ifelt something inside me go still.

"So I was the reason you had to leave even when you were struggling in your relationship?" I smiled sadly, looking up. But beneath my smile, my insides twisted painfully, because in that one moment, a realisation hit me like a cold storm that I had never bothered to understand.

I had spent years walking around carelessly and with the ridiculous confidence that I had a big brother who would always cover for me. Hence, my entire teenage life had been one mess after another. 

Detentions, scandals, heartbreaks, and decisions so stupid that it ashamed my older self. Yet during those reckless days, I never bothered to learn from my mistakes. And every time, without fail, my brother had stepped in.

He cleaned up.
He shielded me.
He took the fall.
He took the stress.
He took the responsibility.

While I... I chilled. 

But now, listening to him, watching the way his shoulders slumped under the memories, I realised something I should have realised long ago—

He wasn't some invincible, DC comic superhero.

He was a human, just another man.

A young man who had been juggling a secret relationship that was somehow collapsing, college pressure, career pressure, emotional storms, and my disasters all at once.

A man who was breaking quietly while holding up the entire weight of the Malhotra family's expectations—expectations that conveniently skipped me and landed fully on him because he was the eldest. Expected from the very first day of his birth to be perfect. 

And suddenly, the respect I had for him...became all the more real.

I didn't see him as the "golden boy" or the "perfect son" or "the one who never screws up" anymore. I saw him as someone who had been exhausted and scared and lonely... and still chose to protect me and fulfil his responsibilities anyway.

I looked at him and I wanted to get up, cross the room, and pull him into a tight hug.

I wanted to tell him that he didn't always have to be the strong one. That he, too, was allowed to break, to stop running after responsibilities that were never fair to him in the first place. He, too, was allowed to just say no.

But before I could speak, his voice cracked again.

"That's the thing, Ved...I was struggling. Shreetama and I were struggling."

"What do you mean?" I asked, unable to understand the line of grief underneath his voice. "And dada, why did you not tell everyone about Shreetama di?"

He sighed and stared back the framed photograph on the wall. "Not every beautiful dream becomes a reality; Ved...Some turn into a nightmare," he gulped. "We had no idea that our sudden decision made with so much hope, at the end of the day, was in fact...impulsive."

My heartbeat slowed.

That's when I figured that there was more. 

I just knew...there was more. 

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