After the horrifying incident last night, Arnab hadn't left my side even for a single moment. When Anwesha Di retreated into the guest room and slammed the door shut, a heavy, suffocating silence had fallen over the living room. Arnab sat beside me all night, tenderly holding my injured hand between both of his warm palms—as if releasing his grip would allow an invisible storm to snatch me away from him.

This morning did not begin like any ordinary day. As soon as he woke up, Arnab announced that he wouldn't be going to the office. Looking at my bandaged hand, he remained adamant—on a day when his wife was hurt and deeply distressed, no urgent meeting could possibly be more important.