"Let's start from the very beginning, okay?"

"So... I guess it was May 11, 2021," Siddharth finally began after a long silence, his voice calm and measured, as though he was carefully choosing every word before speaking it aloud. He leaned slightly back against the couch, one hand resting near his knee while his sharp eyes remained fixed on Aarohi, constantly observing her reactions.

"It was during the lockdown period," he continued quietly. "Everyone was practically caged inside their houses because of the coronavirus situation." He paused briefly before looking at her more carefully. "Do you remember that virus?"

Aarohi did not answer immediately.

Her eyes were fixed somewhere ahead, not exactly at any object in particular, almost as if she was staring through the room itself while trying to pull memories out from the fog inside her mind. Her brows furrowed faintly in concentration, fingers tightening slightly together in her lap while she searched through the scattered fragments in her head.

After a few seconds, she finally nodded slowly.

"Yes..." she whispered softly. "Corona... I do remember that."

Her voice came out distant, quieter than before, but certain enough to make Siddharth internally relax slightly.

Good.

At least some parts of her memory timeline were still intact.

Siddharth nodded once in response, subtly relieved while mentally trying to understand exactly which phase of her memories she had lost and which parts still remained untouched.

"So," he continued again after a small pause, "my mother was still actively working at that time. She's a Joint Secretary, so even during lockdown her office responsibilities never really stopped."

Aarohi's eyes shifted toward him again silently.

"And you..." Siddharth's gaze stayed steady on her face while speaking, almost testing her reactions continuously. "You were an IAS officer back then. Posted somewhere around Mumbai, if I remember correctly."

He paused again before asking carefully,

"You remember being an IAS officer, right?"

This time Aarohi looked at him immediately.

And unlike before, this answer came without hesitation.

She nodded confidently.

Of course she remembered that.

That part of her identity had remained painfully clear inside her mind because according to her memories, that was exactly how everything had started. That was why she had been sent to Bengal. Why she had ended up near his mansion in the first place. Why she got trapped in whatever nightmare followed afterward.

The thought alone made anger quietly rise inside her again.

Her eyes sharpened while looking at him, suspicion simmering beneath the surface despite the calmness she was trying to maintain externally. Siddharth noticed the subtle shift immediately but chose to ignore it for now and continued speaking instead.

"So," he said calmly, "you were born on January 17, 1997."

Aarohi's brows twitched slightly hearing the correction of her own timeline inside her head.

"And during that time..." Siddharth paused briefly, thinking carefully. "You were around twenty-four years old."

The room remained quiet except for his voice.

"You had ranked among the top AIR candidates," he continued, still watching her expressions closely. "Maybe AIR 8... or somewhere around that rank." He shook his head faintly as if trying to recall the exact number. "I don't remember the precise ranking anymore."

His face remained completely expressionless while speaking, yet there was something strangely heavy hidden beneath that calmness—as if even these ordinary details carried memories he was carefully trying not to revisit emotionally.

"But you were good at what you did," he said after another pause. "Too good, actually."

Aarohi remained silent.

Her mind had started piecing together fragments slowly while listening to him. Long nights studying. Examination halls. Interviews. The pressure. The discipline. The pride her parents carried when she succeeded. Tiny glimpses surfaced and disappeared before she could fully hold onto them.

Siddharth noticed her zoning out again slightly and continued in a slower tone this time, making sure not to overwhelm her too quickly.

"You were posted in important locations very early into your career," he explained. "People admired you a lot because of your age, your rank, and the way you handled work."

A faint pause followed.

Then finally, Siddharth's eyes darkened slightly with thought before he added quietly,

"And honestly... You were stubborn even back then."

For the first time since the conversation started, a subtle reaction crossed Aarohi's face.

A small flicker.

Not softness.

But irritation.

Almost instinctive.

As though some part of her recognized the truth behind that statement despite everything else remaining blurred and broken.

Siddharth noticed it immediately.

As the silence settled again briefly between them, Siddharth continued speaking in the same calm, controlled tone he had maintained from the beginning.

"During the pandemic," he said slowly, "you were called into the office several times to help solve administrative issues related to lockdown management and emergency coordination."

Aarohi listened quietly now, her eyes fixed on him carefully.

"And that's where my mother met you for the first time."

The mention of his mother immediately brought back the image of the elderly woman from earlier—the warmth in her hug, the tears in her eyes, the strange affection she had shown toward Aarohi without hesitation.

Siddharth noticed the slight shift in her expression before continuing.

"The lady who hugged you outside a few minutes ago..." he paused briefly, "she's my mother."

Aarohi's brows furrowed faintly again.

"You both attended some official meeting together along with other officers and staff members," he explained. "I don't know every detail because I obviously wasn't there, but according to her, you stood out immediately."

His voice remained steady, though there was something quieter hidden underneath now, almost like he was remembering stories he had heard many times before.

"She was impressed by you," he said. "Very impressed."

Aarohi kept staring at him silently, carefully studying every expression crossing his face, trying desperately to figure out whether he was lying or manipulating her somehow. But Siddharth's expression remained frustratingly unreadable the entire time. Calm. Controlled. Almost perfectly emotionless.

"At such a young age," he continued, "you were already handling pressure better than most senior officers around you."

His eyes remained on her now while speaking.

"She said you were brave. Disciplined. Confident." A faint pause followed before he added, "And extremely stubborn."

Aarohi rolled her eyes slightly at that part unconsciously, though she quickly looked away afterward.

Siddharth noticed.

But ignored it again.

"She liked you almost immediately," he said calmly. "To the point where she started imagining you as her future daughter-in-law from the very first meeting itself."

That statement finally made Aarohi look at him properly again.

There was visible disbelief in her eyes now. Confusion too. Because no matter how hard she tried, she could not imagine someone like his mother willingly wanting her to become part of this mansion. Part of this family.

Still, she remained silent and let him continue.

Siddharth leaned back slightly against the couch before speaking again.

"I was born on April 28, 1993," he said matter-of-factly. "So during that time, I was around twenty-eight or something."

His tone remained casual, almost detached while explaining his own life.

"I used to work mostly from home back then," he continued. "After my father passed away in 2019, I took over the company responsibilities entirely."

For the first time since starting the story, something faintly heavier crossed his face at the mention of his father, though it disappeared so quickly Aarohi almost thought she imagined it.

"Since then," he continued calmly, "I've been handling everything alone. Trying to keep the company stable in global rankings... and eventually trying to push it even higher."

A faint pause followed before he added simply,

"Which I did."

There was no arrogance in the way he said it.

Just simple certainty.

"In short," Siddharth said finally, his eyes returning toward her again, "I'm a businessman."

Then, after the briefest pause, the corner of his mouth twitched almost invisibly in something that wasn't quite a smile.

"Not some eyeball-removing psychopath you keep accusing me of being."

The slight taunt in his voice was obvious this time. Dry. Sharp. Intentional.

Aarohi immediately glared at him in response, the irritation visible clearly on her face now despite all the confusion consuming her mind.

"Continue," she said flatly.

 He nodded slightly at her response before continuing, his posture still calm against the couch while Aarohi sat across from him filled with visible suspicion.

"Yeah... so at that time I was mostly working from home," he said quietly. "Lockdown had practically turned the entire world upside down anyway, so handling meetings and company work remotely became normal."

He paused briefly, almost as if arranging the memories properly before speaking further.

"And one evening my mother came home unusually excited."

A faint crease appeared between his brows while remembering it.

"She kept talking about you nonstop."

Aarohi stayed silent, though her eyes remained fixed sharply on his face, carefully studying every small reaction.

"She told me about this young IAS officer she met during an official meeting," Siddharth continued. "How disciplined you were. How you handled pressure better than officers much older than you. How confident you looked while speaking."

His tone remained neutral, but Aarohi noticed something strange—he repeated his mother's praise almost too accurately, like he had heard those same stories many times before.

"At first, honestly..." he exhaled faintly, "I wasn't interested."

He looked away for a brief second before continuing.

"I never really planned on getting married that early."

The room remained silent except for his voice.

"My work was already consuming most of my life after my father passed away. The company responsibilities kept increasing every month, and honestly, relationships or marriage weren't even part of my priorities at that time."

Aarohi listened carefully now, trying to match his words with whatever little fragments still existed inside her broken memory.

"But..." Siddharth continued after another pause, "I also knew reality."

His fingers tapped lightly once against the couch armrest before going still again.

"I knew my mother would eventually retire. I knew she would need someone around her after spending her entire life balancing office and family together."

For the first time, his voice softened just slightly while speaking about her.

"So one day, while she was again talking about you, I casually said yes."

Aarohi's brows furrowed instantly.

Siddharth noticed but continued calmly.

"I only said yes because I assumed it would take her months to actually find someone suitable and move things forward," he explained. "I genuinely thought she was simply imagining things emotionally after meeting you once."

Then he let out a faint breath that almost sounded like dry amusement at his own mistake.

"What I didn't know," he said, "was that she had already chosen you in her head the moment she met you."

Aarohi kept staring at him silently.

"And before I could even process what was happening," Siddharth continued, "the next thing I knew, she had somehow managed to get your parents' number."

A small pause followed.

"And she invited them home."

Aarohi's eyes narrowed slightly.

Siddharth leaned back a little more before continuing.

"Your parents liked me."

He said it very simply, without arrogance, though the confidence behind his words remained obvious.

"And my mother already adored you before even meeting your family properly." His gaze briefly shifted toward Aarohi again. "So according to them, the only thing left was whether we both agreed or not."

The atmosphere between them remained tense, but Aarohi still didn't interrupt him.

"You were in Delhi at that time for some work," he explained further. "So we couldn't meet immediately."

Another pause.

"And honestly..."

This time Siddharth rubbed lightly at his temple before continuing in a quieter tone.

"I only agreed because my mother emotionally blackmailed me for almost an entire week."

For the first time since the conversation started, something very faintly human crossed his expression—exhaustion mixed with reluctant affection while talking about his mother.

"She barely spoke about anything else during those days," he said. "Every conversation somehow came back to you."

Aarohi remained suspicious, but she noticed he wasn't trying to overly dramatize things while speaking either. He spoke too normally for someone trying to create a perfect fake story.

"So eventually I said yes," Siddharth continued. "Without even meeting you properly."

His eyes shifted toward her again.

"Just based on your photo and your portfolio."

Aarohi's fingers tightened slightly together hearing that.

"Because like I said," he added calmly, "I genuinely wasn't interested in marriage at all back then."

The next few words came slower.

"But after my father died... that was probably the first time my mother had asked me for something personally."

Silence stretched briefly in the room afterward.

"And I couldn't say no to her."

"So at that point," Siddharth continued quietly, "the only person left to agree was you."

Then unexpectedly, the corner of his mouth twitched very faintly again.

"And honestly?" he admitted dryly, "I was praying you'd reject the proposal so I could escape the entire situation peacefully."

Aarohi immediately looked at him suspiciously again after hearing that.

Her eyes searched his face carefully, almost trying to catch him lying. Trying to decide whether this entire story was another manipulation or not.

But instead of interrupting this time, she stayed silent and kept listening carefully, trying desperately to compare his words with the broken memories still scattered inside her mind like incomplete pieces of a puzzle she no longer knew how to solve.

"While in your case..." Siddharth continued after a brief pause, his calm voice once again filling the heavy silence of the living room, "I still don't know whether you told me the complete truth back then or not."

Aarohi's eyes immediately narrowed slightly at that statement, but she stayed quiet.

"That's just what you told me," he clarified calmly. "According to you, you absolutely hated the idea of marrying a businessman."

The corner of Aarohi's brows twitched faintly.

"You said you wanted someone from your own field instead," Siddharth continued. "Someone who understood your work, your schedule, your way of living. Maybe another officer... someone from administration or law enforcement."

A faint pause followed before he added,

"Not some corporate businessman sitting behind meetings and contracts all day."

There was no irritation in his tone while repeating her old words. If anything, he sounded oddly neutral about it, as if he had already accepted long ago that she had never wanted him in the beginning, either.

"But apparently," he continued, leaning slightly back into the couch again, "your father became equally dramatic during that entire phase."

For the first time, something extremely faint resembling dry humor crossed his otherwise blank expression.

"He's a heart patient, right?" Siddharth asked even though he already knew the answer. "So, according to you, he started pretending he was about to get a heart attack every single day."

Aarohi blinked once hearing that.

"He kept saying this was probably his last chance to see his daughter get married," Siddharth said calmly. "Typical emotional blackmail."

Despite the tension of the conversation, Aarohi could almost imagine her father behaving exactly like that, and somehow the image felt frustratingly believable.

"And then your mother crying every five minutes apparently became the final weapon," Siddharth added dryly. "Which eventually forced you to say yes."

Aarohi stared at him silently for a few moments before suddenly asking flatly,

"Oh, and he's still alive by now?"

Siddharth nodded immediately.

"Yes."

Again, no visible expression crossed his face while answering.

Siddharth continued speaking.

"So basically," he said calmly, "both of us ended up trapped in an unwanted marriage while secretly hoping the other person would reject it first."

The sentence sounded absurdly normal compared to the horrifying reality Aarohi's mind had created around him.

"Our families, however..." Siddharth sighed faintly. "Were far more enthusiastic than us."

His fingers tapped once lightly against the couch armrest before going still again.

"The moment you said yes, they didn't waste even a single second."

Aarohi listened carefully.

"By the next week," he continued, "we were already engaged."

Silence stretched briefly after that statement.

"And that," Siddharth said while looking directly at her now, "was the first time we actually met each other properly."

Aarohi's eyes remained fixed on him, trying desperately to search her broken memory for that moment.

But again—nothing complete surfaced.

"We barely spoke during the engagement," Siddharth continued after noticing her expression changing slightly with concentration. "Not because we were shy or grateful or anything dramatic like that."

A faint pause followed.

"I think most of it was my fault."

That finally made Aarohi look at him again properly.

Siddharth's expression remained blank as always while he spoke.

"I've never really been someone who talks much," he explained quietly. "Unless something is urgent, I usually stay silent."

His eyes lowered briefly before lifting again toward her.

"And apparently my face naturally looks cold enough to scare people away."

The statement sounded so casually factual that it almost felt ridiculous.

"My expression barely changes," he continued. "Which makes approaching me difficult for most people."

Aarohi immediately gave him a look full of disbelief and sarcasm hearing that explanation.

Difficult?

The man sitting in front of her looked like he could terrify an entire room just by staring at people silently for too long.

Siddharth noticed the look instantly but ignored it.

"And during that time," he added calmly, "I was constantly irritated because I never wanted to get married in the first place."

His jaw tightened slightly at the memory.

"So I stayed quiet mostly because I knew if I started speaking too much, I'd probably end up bursting my frustration on someone unnecessarily."

A faint pause followed before he added flatly,

"Anger issues, you know."

Aarohi immediately looked at him like a thief, casually explaining that stealing wasn't technically wrong because it was simply his passion in life.

Her expression practically screamed disbelief.

"Then... on November 22, 2021, we got married," Siddharth continued after a brief silence, his voice still carrying the same calm heaviness as before. "Because of lockdown restrictions, the guest list was limited, but despite that..." he paused slightly, "...the wedding itself was grand."

Aarohi stayed silent, listening carefully while trying once again to force her mind to remember something—anything—from the life he was describing.

But nothing came.

No memories of wedding rituals. No flashes of ceremonies. No emotions.

Just emptiness.

Siddharth, meanwhile, continued speaking without noticing the growing frustration behind her silence.

"You got posted in Mumbai again after marriage," he said. "And honestly, both of us went back to our normal routines almost immediately."

A faint pause followed before he added,

"I think it was barely three days after the wedding."

His expression remained unreadable while speaking, almost detached from the memories themselves.

"Neither of us was emotionally invested in the marriage initially," he admitted plainly. "So after the functions ended, we both returned to work as if nothing major had changed in our lives."

The room stayed quiet except for his steady voice.

"For almost one month," Siddharth continued, "we shared the same room..."

Aarohi's eyes unconsciously shifted toward him slightly.

"...but barely spoke to each other."

The statement sounded strange considering everything else around them now. Husband and wife living under the same roof like strangers.

"You and my mother, however, got along surprisingly well," he added after a small pause. "She became very attached to you very quickly."

Aarohi lowered her eyes briefly, remembering the warmth in the older woman's hug from earlier.

Then Siddharth spoke again.

"And around February 18..."

He paused for a second before finishing quietly,

"...we found out you were one month pregnant with Ritvik."

The moment the words left his mouth, Aarohi immediately looked at him sharply.

"Liar."

Her voice came out filled with disbelief and irritation both.

"If according to you we barely even spoke," she snapped, glaring at him now, "then how the hell did I get pregnant within two months of marriage?"

For the first time during the conversation, Siddharth visibly looked away for a brief moment.

Almost like embarrassment.

Aarohi noticed it immediately.

He rubbed lightly at his jaw before finally answering in a lower voice than before.

"Look at me," he said flatly.

Then his eyes shifted toward her briefly.

"And look at yourself."

Aarohi's brows furrowed instantly at the strange answer.

Siddharth cleared his throat slightly before continuing, still looking oddly uncomfortable for the first time since this conversation began.

"We were both adults," he explained carefully. "Sleeping in the same room with someone of the opposite gender every day..." He paused briefly, choosing his words with visible restraint. "...creates certain tensions."

Aarohi kept staring at him silently.

"Having adult bodies," Siddharth continued awkwardly, "creates its own problems sometimes, so we..."

He stopped midway again.

The silence stretched heavily.

"Complete it."

Aarohi's demanding voice immediately cut through the pause.

Siddharth exhaled slowly before finally forcing himself to continue.

"We both decided to use each other to satisfy those tensions," he admitted bluntly. "But with protection."

Aarohi's eyes narrowed slightly while listening.

"It wasn't planned," he added quickly. "And honestly, it wasn't even discussed properly between us beforehand."

His face remained mostly expressionless, but the slight stiffness in his posture revealed enough discomfort already.

"It just... happened."

The atmosphere in the room shifted slightly heavier after that confession.

"And neither of us hated it," Siddharth continued quietly after a pause. "So eventually it became an unspoken arrangement between us."

Aarohi stayed completely silent now.

Her face showed no memory returning. No emotional recognition. Nothing.

Only concentration mixed with suspicion.

"Then one night," Siddharth continued more slowly this time, "my mother had gone to visit some relatives for a few days."

His fingers tapped once lightly against the couch before going still again.

"And that night... both of us were drinking together."

A faint pause followed.

"In that state," he said calmly, though his gaze shifted away again briefly, "we forgot about protection completely."

The room fell silent afterward for a few seconds.

"And when we found out about the pregnancy..." he continued, "...my mother was already there beside us before we could even properly process it ourselves."

Aarohi listened quietly while Siddharth spoke, though inside her mind everything still felt disconnected, like he was narrating someone else's life entirely.

"By the time we fully understood the situation," Siddharth said, "she had already informed half the family."

For the first time, something softer appeared briefly in his otherwise cold voice.

"She was genuinely happy."

He looked toward Aarohi again before continuing.

"So removing the baby..." he paused slightly, "...or even discussing abortion properly never really became an option."

Not because of pressure alone.

But because something else had happened too.

"Eventually," Siddharth said quietly, "both of us mutually decided to keep the child."

Aarohi's fingers tightened slightly together hearing that.

"For the sake of the family at first," he admitted honestly. "But later..."

His voice lowered subtly.

"...once we heard the heartbeat for the first time..."

He stopped speaking for a brief moment.

And strangely, that silence carried more weight than the sentence itself.

"Neither of us had the courage to remove the baby after that."

He paused for a few seconds after that, the silence stretching quietly through the living room once again. Aarohi noticed his expression carefully, trying to catch any inconsistency in his words, any sign that he was fabricating all of this.

And then he continued.

This time, however, there was the faintest trace of emotion in his eyes.

So faint that most people probably would not even notice it.

But Aarohi did.

"While you were at home during your maternity leave," Siddharth said slowly, his voice lower now, calmer than before, "most of my work had also shifted to home because of the company restructuring after lockdown."

He leaned slightly back against the couch while speaking, though his gaze no longer looked as detached as earlier.

"So naturally..." he paused briefly, "...we started spending more time together."

Aarohi remained silent, listening carefully while trying once again to search her mind for even the smallest memory connected to the life he was describing.

But again—nothing returned.

No memories of pregnancy. No memories of living with him peacefully. No memories of waiting for a child.

Only darkness.

"You were in your eighth month," Siddharth continued quietly, "when we both finally decided that maybe..."

His jaw tightened slightly before he corrected himself.

"No." He shook his head faintly. "Not maybe."

For the first time since starting this story, his voice carried certainty instead of explanation.

"We decided we wanted to spend our lives together."

The sentence settled heavily between them.

Aarohi's eyes remained fixed on him intensely, studying every small reaction crossing his face while he spoke. Siddharth noticed it but didn't stop this time.

"That's when things actually changed between us," he continued. "Not suddenly. Not dramatically."

A faint pause followed.

"But slowly."

His fingers moved slightly against the couch armrest before going still again.

"We started behaving less like two strangers forced into a marriage..." he said quietly, "...and more like an actual couple."

Then almost immediately after saying that, he added flatly,

"Though definitely not a normal couple."

Aarohi's brows furrowed faintly.

"Both of us had anger issues," Siddharth explained calmly. "Yours were mostly work-related. Stress, pressure, frustration from your job."

Then his gaze lowered slightly for a moment before he added,

"Mine were more general."

The way he said it sounded disturbingly simple for something clearly far more complicated underneath.

"But I tried controlling them," he continued. "I always preferred keeping things inside instead of reacting openly."

Aarohi kept listening silently while the mansion around them remained unnaturally quiet.

"We weren't romantic people either," Siddharth admitted after another pause. "At least not in the typical way."

Something almost resembling self-awareness crossed his expression for a brief second.

"My personality..." he said slowly, "...has always been emotionally blank."

The statement sounded brutally honest.

"I struggle with expressing emotions properly." His eyes briefly met hers again. "Even when I feel them."

For some reason, the way he said that made the atmosphere feel heavier.

"But somehow," he continued quietly, "we still understood each other enough."

Aarohi stared at him without blinking now.

"It wasn't perfect," Siddharth admitted. "But it worked for us."

Again, no memories surfaced inside her mind hearing those words.

Nothing.

And that frustrated her more with every passing minute.

Then Siddharth continued again after another brief silence.

"On September 15, 2022..."

For the first time, his voice softened visibly while speaking the next words.

"...you gave birth to Ritvik."

The air in the room felt strangely still after that sentence.

Aarohi unconsciously looked down slightly while processing the name. The same little boy who had hidden behind Siddharth earlier. The same child who had called her "mumma" with innocent hesitation.

Siddharth, meanwhile, continued speaking, though now his voice carried a quiet heaviness that had not been there before.

"After that," he said slowly, "time passed without us even realizing it properly."

A faint pause followed.

"My mother took early retirement to take care of him while we worked."

For the first time since the conversation began, Aarohi could almost picture fragments of the life he described—not memories exactly, but images forming from his words alone. A child running through the mansion. Tiny footsteps. Toys scattered around. Late work nights. Family dinners.

"He used to wait for us every evening," Siddharth continued quietly.

His eyes lowered slightly again as though seeing those moments somewhere in his own memory now.

"The moment he heard the main door open..."

A faint pause.

"...he would come running immediately."

The slightest softness appeared in his expression then. Barely visible, but real.

"To welcome us home from work."

And somehow, hearing those simple domestic details inside this dark mansion felt stranger to Aarohi than all the fear she had experienced since arriving here.

"Everything was fine until..."

Siddharth's voice stopped midway.