The drive back to the penthouse was wrapped in a fragile silence. Saifa sat beside Arhaan, her fingers loosely entwined with his. She didn’t pull away this time. Even when their hands shifted slightly with every turn the car made, she let them rest in his hold, her grip light, hesitant, yet present.

Arhaan, though still tense, loosened his shoulders, the closer they came to home, the more he felt the panic inside him slowly ebbing, replaced now by a quieter, heavier ache; an ache carved by everything that had happened today.