The answer came sooner than expected.
And yet—
It wasn't an answer at all.
Sasmita sat at her desk, her posture straight, her expression unreadable as always. The office around her buzzed with quiet activity, but inside that room, everything felt still.
Controlled.
Waiting.
Her phone vibrated lightly against the table.
A message.
She didn't open it immediately.
For a brief moment, her fingers rested beside the device, unmoving.
As if she already knew—
Whatever she was about to see wouldn't be simple.
Then, without hesitation, she picked it up.
Opened it.
A file.
Detailed.
Professional.
Complete.
Except—
It wasn't.
Her eyes moved across the screen slowly, line by line.
Name: Aarav.
Age: Estimated.
Address: Unknown.
Education: No records found.
Employment history: No trace.
Legal identity: Unverified.
Sasmita's fingers tightened slightly around the phone.
She scrolled further.
Surveillance checks.
Database cross-verifications.
Private network inquiries.
Every section ended the same way.
No data available.
For the first time—
Her composure cracked.
Not visibly.
Not enough for anyone else to notice.
But inside—
Something shifted.
This wasn't just a lack of information.
This was absence.
Complete and deliberate.
It felt as if someone had erased him.
Cleanly.
Carefully.
Sasmita leaned back slowly, her gaze still fixed on the screen.
People could hide things.
People could lie.
But no one—
Disappeared like this.
Unless—
They had the power to.
The thought settled heavily in her mind.
She locked the phone.
Placed it on the table.
And for a long moment—
She said nothing.
Her eyes drifted toward the glass wall again.
Aarav was there.
Just like always.
Calm.
Focused.
Unbothered.
As if none of this existed.
As if he wasn't the center of it.
Sasmita watched him carefully.
Longer than she should have.
And for the first time—
A question formed that she couldn't ignore.
Not who are you—
But—
what are you?
The rest of the day passed, but not in the way it usually did.
Sasmita attended meetings.
Reviewed files.
Made decisions.
But her attention wasn't complete.
A part of it remained elsewhere.
Always returning to him.
Every word he spoke.
Every movement he made.
Every silence he chose.
All of it—
Felt intentional now.
Nothing about him seemed accidental anymore.
By evening, the office had begun to empty.
Lights dimmed one by one, conversations fading into silence.
But Sasmita didn't leave.
She stayed.
And as expected—
So did he.
Aarav sat at his desk, finishing the last of the work without any sign of exhaustion.
Finally, Sasmita stood up.
This time—
She didn't hesitate.
She walked out of her office and stopped directly in front of him.
"Aarav."
He looked up.
Immediately.
There was no surprise in his expression.
Only awareness.
"Yes?"
Sasmita didn't sit.
Didn't soften.
"I had your background checked," she said.
Silence.
Aarav didn't react.
Not even slightly.
That—
Confirmed everything.
"And?" he asked calmly.
Sasmita's gaze sharpened.
"There's nothing."
A brief pause.
"No past. No records. No identity."
The words were clear.
Measured.
"And that," she continued slowly,
"is not normal."
Aarav held her gaze.
Unmoving.
"No," he agreed.
The answer came too easily.
Sasmita's brows tightened just slightly.
"You're admitting it?"
"I'm not denying it."
The difference was small.
But significant.
Silence stretched between them.
"Who are you?" she asked again.
This time—
There was no hesitation in her voice.
No distance.
No restraint.
Just a question.
Direct.
Unavoidable.
Aarav looked at her for a long moment.
Long enough for the air between them to grow heavy.
Then—
"I told you," he said quietly.
"I'm your husband."
"That's not enough."
"It has to be."
The words landed like a wall.
Solid.
Unmoving.
Sasmita exhaled slowly, her patience thinning—not in anger, but in something deeper.
Frustration.
"You expect me to trust you," she said,
"when I know nothing about you?"
Aarav didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he stood up.
Now they were closer.
Closer than before.
"And yet," he said softly,
"you already do."
The statement caught her off guard.
"I don't," she replied quickly.
A faint pause.
"Then why didn't you walk away?" he asked.
Silence.
Because she didn't have an answer.
Not one she was ready to admit.
Their eyes locked.
And for a brief moment—
The tension changed.
It wasn't just suspicion anymore.
It was something deeper.
More dangerous.
Something neither of them could fully control.
Sasmita stepped back first.
"Don't assume things," she said, her voice returning to its usual calm.
Aarav didn't argue.
Didn't insist.
But his gaze followed her.
And something in it—
Didn't let go.
That night, the distance between them felt smaller.
Not physically.
But in ways that mattered more.
Because Sasmita no longer saw him as just a contract.
And Aarav—
No longer saw her as just part of a plan.
Though neither of them said it—
Something had already begun to change.