The afternoon sunlight filled the London apartment with a soft, comforting warmth. For the first time in an entire month, the heavy, suffocating silence inside the rooms was completely gone. The constant worry that had gripped the household had finally lifted, replacing the tension with a quiet, genuine peace.

Aadhya stood by the kitchen counter, carefully stirring a pot of fresh vegetable soup for Reyansh. Earlier that morning, Dr. Vance had explicitly given him permission to return to normal, solid food. However, Aadhya's mind was still locked in a highly disciplined routine. She wasn't ready to take any unnecessary chances with his health just yet. She wanted his recovery to be flawless, so she decided to ease his stomach back into digestion with something light and strictly nutritious.

Once the soup was ready, she carefully poured it into a ceramic bowl and placed it on a small wooden tray alongside a glass of warm water and a neat stack of tissues. Balancing the tray carefully against her three-month baby bump, she walked slowly down the short hallway toward the bedroom.

Reyansh was sitting propped up comfortably against a pile of soft pillows, resting his laptop idly on his lap. The pale, hollow look that had defined his face for weeks was finally beginning to disappear, replaced by a healthy, faint flush. His dark eyes tracked her every movement with a soft, intense devotion.

"You know, Butterfly," Reyansh smiled warmly, setting his laptop aside on the nightstand, "the doctor explicitly said I am allowed to walk around now. I could have easily come to the kitchen. You didn't have to carry that tray all the way here."

Aadhya rolled her eyes playfully, placing the tray gently over his lap with an air of absolute authority. "And I know exactly how stubborn you are, Reyansh. Your body is still adjusting to being off the heavy IV antibiotics. You are staying right here in this bed, and you are eating exactly what I give you."

Reyansh let out a low, deep chuckle. For weeks, every time he coughed or laughed, his face would tighten in agonizing pain from his deep abdominal wound. Seeing him move so freely now made Aadhya's heart swell with an overwhelming sense of relief.

"Yes, boss," Reyansh replied, picking up the spoon.

Aadhya sat down on the edge of the mattress right beside him, her eyes completely fixed on his face. She watched him take every single spoonful with absolute concentration, making sure he swallowed comfortably.

"How is it?" she asked anxiously, her eyebrows knitting together. "Is it too hot? Does your stomach feel okay?"

"It is absolutely perfect," Reyansh replied softly. He reached out with his free hand and lightly tapped the tip of her nose.

After he finished eating every drop of the soup, he leaned back against the pillows with a deep sigh of satisfaction. Aadhya picked up a soft tissue from the tray and leaned closer to gently wipe a tiny, stray drop of soup from the corner of his lower lip. Her touch was incredibly light, her movements tender and full of care.

The moment she leaned into his personal space, the playful look in Reyansh's eyes softened into something deep, intense, and filled with a burning longing. He had been starved of her closeness for thirty long days. The familiar, intoxicating scent of her jasmine shampoo filled his senses, completely erasing the lingering, sterile memories of his illness.

Before Aadhya could pull her hand back and lift the tray, Reyansh's hand shot out.

He caught her slender wrist in a firm but gentle grip. With a deliberate pull, he guided her toward him. Being extra careful not to press against her prominent baby bump, he wrapped his strong arm securely around her waist, pulling her upper body down until her face was buried deeply in the crook of his neck.

"Aadhya..." he whispered against her skin, his voice rough and thick with an overwhelming wave of emotion. "I missed this so much. I missed holding you like this without a million wires and tubes between us."

His warm lips brushed softly against her jawline, trailing upward toward her ear. Aadhya's heart began to hammer violently against her ribs. Her fingers instinctively tightened in the fabric of his t-shirt, her eyes fluttering closed as his warmth washed over her. For a split second, she wanted nothing more than to melt into his arms and forget about the rest of the world.

Reyansh felt her momentary softness. His hand slid up from her waist, his fingers gently cupping her jawline as he tilted her face up. He slowly leaned in, his gaze dropping to her soft lips, preparing to close the distance and claim the long-overdue kiss he had been dreaming of for weeks.

But suddenly, a sharp, terrifying flash of panic rushed through Aadhya's mind.

Four percent.

The doctor's words from earlier that morning echoed with brutal clarity inside her head. The infection was ninety-six percent gone. It was a massive victory. But to Aadhya's deeply traumatized mind, four percent still remained. It wasn't zero. What if a deep, intimate kiss introduced a new strain of bacteria into his fragile system? What if his body, still weak from the heavy medication, suffered a sudden, violent relapse? What if she unknowingly caused him harm?

The fear completely took over her senses, paralyzing her ability to think logically. Panic exploded in her chest.

Before his lips could touch hers, Aadhya placed both her hands flat against his chest and pushed him away with sudden, frantic force.

Reyansh was completely unprepared for the rejection. Because his physical strength hadn't fully returned, the force of her hands caused him to fall back heavily against the pillows, his breath leaving him in a sharp gasp.

Aadhya immediately scrambled off the bed, her boots hitting the floor with a loud thud. She stood a few feet away, her chest heaving rapidly as she drew in short, ragged breaths. Her hands were shaking violently, and she instinctively wrapped her arms around her baby bump, refusing to look him in the eye.

"I... I need to check the maid," she stammered out, her voice breathless, high-pitched, and completely frantic. "The kitchen needs to be cleaned. I'll be back later."

Without waiting for a single answer, she grabbed the wooden tray from the nightstand with trembling hands and practically bolted out of the bedroom, her hurried footsteps disappearing down the hallway.

The bedroom fell into a freezing, suffocating silence.

Reyansh sat perfectly frozen in the exact position she had pushed him into. His hand remained raised slightly in the air for a few seconds before it slowly dropped back to the bedsheets, clenching into a tight, white-knuckled fist. The warmth of her skin was still lingering on his lips, but his heart felt like it had been plunged into ice water.

A dull, throbbing ache started in the center of his chest.

Why did she push me away? The question repeated in his mind like a cruel mantra.

For an entire month, she had taken care of his every need. She had seen him weak, covered in sweat, helpless, and completely broken by a vicious infection. She had washed him, changed his clothes, and nursed him through terrifying fevers.

A dark, incredibly painful thought settled deep in his gut, crushing his masculine pride.

She's disgusted by me, he thought, a bitter taste rising in his throat. She doesn't see me as her husband anymore. I'm just a patient to her. A weak, diseased body that she had to look after out of sheer duty. How could she possibly want to be close to someone she's spent weeks nursing like a sick child?

He closed his eyes tightly, a wave of profound shame washing over him as he stared at the empty doorway.

By the evening, the invisible wall of tension between them had grown thicker. Reyansh had forced himself to get out of bed, dressing in a simple black t-shirt and grey sweatpants. He walked slowly into the kitchen, his bare feet making no sound on the floor.

Aadhya was standing at the stove, preparing dinner. The rich aroma of roasted vegetables and mild rice filled the air. Seeing her profile under the soft kitchen light made Reyansh's chest ache with a deep, desperate need to be close to her again. He wanted to prove to himself that the afternoon had just been a fluke—a simple misunderstanding. He needed to feel her warmth.

He walked up behind her silently, his tall frame shadowing hers. Slowly, deliberately, he reached out and slid his warm hand under the hem of her loose cotton t-shirt, his palm making direct contact with the bare skin of her lower back. At the same time, he leaned down, burying his face into the side of her neck, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against her jawline.

"It smells amazing in here," he murmured against her skin, his hand on her back tightening slightly to pull her closer.

The second his hand touched her bare skin, a jolt of pure panic hit Aadhya again. Her mind, still stuck in extreme protection mode, immediately flooded with terrifying thoughts. The infection. The four percent. The baby. The irrational fear mutated into an absolute chokehold around her throat.

Before he could give her another kiss, she reacted entirely on frantic instinct.

She dropped the spatula into the pan with a loud, clattering bang. Turning her body sharply, she placed both her hands flat against his shoulders and shoved him away with abrupt, violent force.

"Reyansh, stop!", her voice sharp, strained, and filled with a frantic edge that sliced through the quiet room.

Reyansh stumbled backward from the sudden, aggressive movement, his lower back hitting the edge of the opposite kitchen counter with a dull thud.

The kitchen went completely silent, save for the sound of their heavy breathing.

Aadhya stood by the stove, her face entirely pale, her hands trembling violently as she looked at him with wide, terrified eyes. She looked completely distressed, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

"I... the rice is burning," she whispered frantically, turning her back to him completely so he wouldn't see the tears in her eyes. She picked up the spatula with shaking fingers. "Just... go sit at the table. Dinner is almost ready."

Reyansh stared at her back for a few agonizing seconds. He didn't demand an explanation, and he didn't raise his voice. But slowly, the shock in his dark eyes hardened into something cold, distant, and deeply offended.

This was the second time she had pushed him away with genuine panic and revulsion. Now, he was absolutely sure. Her rejections weren't accidental. His illness had permanently ruined how she saw him. She found his physical touch repulsive.

The realization wounded his ego with brutal precision, turning his deep hurt into a cold, protective shell. Without saying a single word, he turned around and walked out of the kitchen, his heavy footsteps leaving a freezing silence behind him.

Dinner was completely awful.

The warm, loving, and teasing Reyansh was entirely gone. He sat across from her at the dining table like an absolute stranger, his face an expressionless, rigid mask. His dark eyes were blank, completely devoid of any warmth or emotion.

He answered her only when it was absolutely necessary, his voice flat, formal, and robotic.

"Thank you," he said when she served the food.

"Okay," he muttered when she mentioned his evening routine.

Nothing more. No smiles, no teasing, and no shared glances. He ate with mechanical discipline, keeping his eyes firmly on his plate. At one point, when Aadhya reached out to pass him the water pitcher, her fingers accidentally brushed against his.

Reyansh pulled his hand away immediately, smoothly and deliberately avoiding her touch as if her skin had burned him.

Aadhya's heart dropped straight into her stomach. A profound sense of dread wrapped around her core. She knew something was deeply wrong, but she was still completely unaware of the devastating train of thought she had triggered inside his mind. She didn't realize how badly her silent, frantic rejections had shattered his pride.

Later that night, the apartment was shrouded in darkness. Aadhya walked into the kitchen with a heavy heart, pouring a fresh glass of cool buttermilk to soothe his stomach and placing his final oral tablet on a small wooden tray. She needed to break this terrifying distance between them.

When she pushed the bedroom door open softly, she found Reyansh already in bed. He wasn't sitting up waiting for her. He was lying on his side, his back turned completely toward her side of the bed, his large frame looking like a closed fortress.

"Ansh?" she called out, her voice a fragile, trembling whisper. "Your medicine... and I brought you some buttermilk."

Reyansh shifted slowly, rolling onto his back. He didn't look up at her face; his eyes remained fixed blankly on the wall behind her.

"Thank you," he said coldly, his tone completely flat.

He reached out, picked up the small white pill, and swallowed it with a sip of water. Aadhya watched him, her eyes burning with unshed tears. She picked up the glass of buttermilk, holding it out toward him with both hands, desperate for a single moment of connection.

"Drink the buttermilk too, Ansh. Please," she pleaded softly.

Reyansh looked at the glass, and then his cold, empty eyes moved up to meet hers. He reached out to take the glass from her hands. But he didn't wrap his hand over hers like he normally would. Instead, he carefully and meticulously extended his thumb and index finger, pinching the very top rim of the glass where her fingers weren't touching, ensuring that not even a millimeter of his skin made contact with hers.

He pulled the glass away smoothly, without a single touch.

The deliberate, calculated avoidance of her skin felt like a physical blow to Aadhya's face. It was a clear, devastating message. He drank the buttermilk in silence, placed the empty glass back onto the tray with the same careful avoidance, and turned his face away.

"Is there anything else?" he asked, his voice dead and completely detached.

That was it. Aadhya couldn't take the suffocating distance for another second.

A loud, breathless sob escaped her lips, breaking the heavy silence of the bedroom like shattering glass.

She dropped straight to her knees right beside the bed, her hands clutching the edge of the mattress as she looked up at him through a thick, blinding veil of hot tears. Her shoulders shook violently, her chest heaving as the pent-up emotion and stress of the entire day finally erupted into a wild storm.

"Why are you acting like this, Reyansh?!" she cried out, her voice cracking with pure, unadulterated anguish. "Why are you treating me like a stranger? You aren't even looking at me! You are avoiding my touch like I am some kind of disease! What did I do wrong? Please... talk to me!"

Reyansh didn't flinch at her sudden outburst. He didn't move to pull her up from the cold floor, and his expression didn't soften. He just lay there, looking down at her with those same blank, frozen eyes, his jaw clenching tightly.

"I am just doing exactly what you want, Aadhya," he said, his voice a quiet, freezing whisper that cut straight through her heart.

Aadhya shook her head frantically, her hot tears splashing onto the dark bedsheets. "What do you mean? I don't want this! I don't want you to be a robot! I don't want you to treat me like a stranger!"

Reyansh let out a short, completely humorless sound that wasn't quite a laugh—it was a sound of pure, concentrated bitterness. He slowly sat up, swinging his legs over the opposite side of the bed, turning his back to her once again as his broad shoulders tensed violently.

"Aren't you the one who pushed me away, Aadhya?" he asked, his voice low, vibrating with a deep, suppressed hurt that he could no longer hide. "Twice today. I tried to hold you in the bedroom, and you pushed me away. I tried to kiss my own wife after fighting for my life for a month, and you shoved me away in the kitchen with so much force that I hit the counter. You looked at me with panic, with fear, with absolute revulsion."

He paused, a heavy, ragged breath leaving his chest as his voice dropped into a dangerous, deeply wounded register.

"I thought you were disgusted by me. You don't have to pretend anymore. You spent thirty days cleaning up after a sick, broken man. You saw me weak, sweating, and completely helpless. I don't look like a husband to you right now. I look like a patient. A broken body. You are disgusted by my touch, and you want to keep me at a distance."

Aadhya froze, her eyes widening in absolute, horrified shock as his brutal words echoed in her mind. A wave of sharp anger mixed with her immense grief. How could he possibly misinterpret her love so horribly?

"No!" Aadhya shouted fiercely, her voice piercing the darkness of the room.

She rushed around the bed, dropping down right in front of him. She grabbed his broad shoulders, her fingers digging tightly into his black shirt, desperately trying to force him to look at her. "No, Reyansh! No! How could you think something so horrible?!"

Reyansh looked up, and for the first time that evening, his blank mask completely shattered. Underneath it was a raw, bleeding mass of destroyed masculine pride. His eyes were bloodshot, filled with a fierce, burning pain and an agonizing vulnerability.

"Then tell me why, Aadhya!" he challenged, his voice finally breaking as he stared at her. "Tell me why you look terrified every single time I touch you! Give me an explanation for why you react with so much panic when I try to kiss you! If it's not disgust, then what the hell is it?!"

"It's the four percent!" Aadhya shrieked back, her voice completely breaking as a fresh wave of tears rolled down her flushed cheeks.

Reyansh blinked, his entire body going rigid. His eyebrows knitted together in deep, utter confusion. "What... what did you just say?"

"The infection!" she cried out, her hands flying up to hold his face tightly, her thumbs pressing against his cheekbones as she forced him to see the sheer terror in her eyes. "The doctor said ninety-six percent of the infection is gone! That means four percent is still there! Four percent of that horrible, vicious monster is still lurking inside your body!"

She broke down completely, her body shaking violently with deep, breathless sobs.

"I was so scared, Reyansh! I watched you suffer for a whole month! ! I watched you scream in pain because of that infection! I spent every single second of every single day absolutely terrified that I would lose you, that you would leave me and our unborn baby alone in this world!"

Her voice trembled with pure agony as she squeezed his face.

"When you tried to kiss me... all I could think about was that four percent. What if a deep kiss introduces new bacteria to your system? What if your body, which is still so weak, suffers a relapse because of me? What if I lose you because I was careless? I wasn't pushing you away because I didn't want you, Reyansh! I pushed you away because I was absolutely, completely terrified! I love you so much that I'm terrified something will happen to you again! My mind is stuck in protection mode, and I don't know how to turn it off!"

She pulled her hands back, covering her face as she wept uncontrollably, her small frame trembling on the floor.

The bedroom fell into a completely different kind of silence. The coldness, the bitterness, and the offensive walls of pride vanished in an instant, completely obliterated by the sheer weight of her raw vulnerability.

Reyansh sat perfectly still, his mind completely reeling as her words sunk in. The profound shame and the insecurity that had tortured him all day melted away, replaced by an overwhelming, crushing wave of realization. She hadn't rejected him out of disgust. She had pushed him away out of a love so fierce, so protective, and so deeply traumatized that it manifested as pure panic.

Looking at her weeping in front of him, a massive ache of guilt exploded in his own chest. He had been so wrapped up in his own stupid, prideful insecurities that he had turned her deepest love into something ugly. He felt incredibly angry at himself for making her cry like this after everything she had done for him.

"Oh, Butterfly..." Reyansh murmured, his voice cracking completely, thick with a sudden rush of tears.

He didn't hesitate for another second. He stood up from the bed, completely ignoring any minor discomfort in his abdomen, and wrapped his long, strong arms securely around her waist. He pulled her up and gathered her tightly against his broad chest.

Aadhya didn't push him away this time. Instead, she let out a loud sob and buried her face deeply into his shirt, her hands gripping the fabric of his back as she let out all the residual terror of the past month. She felt a mix of intense relief and lingering anger that he could ever think she found him disgusting.

Reyansh held her with a desperate, crushing intensity. He buried his face into her soft hair, his own hot tears finally slipping down his cheeks. He rocked her gently from side to side in the dim room, his hand cradling the back of her head.

"I'm sorry, Butterfly... I am so, so sorry," Reyansh whispered repeatedly, his voice rough and broken with deep emotion. "I am such an idiot. I let my stupid pride get in the way. I actually thought you were disgusted by me because I was sick. I thought I had become a burden to you."

Aadhya shook her head fiercely against his chest, her voice thick with tears. "Never. You could never be a burden to me, Ansh. Never. Don't you ever say that again."

He cupped her face gently, tilting her chin up so her tear-filled brown eyes met his. His thumbs softly wiped away the tears streaming down her cheeks, his touch filled with a reassuring, deep warmth.

"The four percent is nothing, Butterfly," he said softly, looking at her with absolute certainty. "The doctor already told us I am recovering beautifully. My immune system is perfectly fine. You don't have to protect me every single second anymore. The storm is fully over."

He leaned down, resting his forehead gently against hers, his breath warm against her lips.

Reyansh smiled softly, a radiant, genuine expression of pure love. "No relapse, my beautiful Butterfly. I am completely safe."

He didn't try to kiss her mouth this time, respecting the lingering boundaries of her peace of mind. Instead, he simply wrapped his arms around her even tighter, pulling her whole body against his, letting her feel the strong, steady, and unbroken rhythm of his heartbeat.

Aadhya wrapped her arms securely around his neck, leaning her heavy baby bump comfortably against him. A deep, peaceful calm finally washed over her, replacing the frantic panic of the past month.

That night, wrapped safely and securely in each other's arms, they finally drifted into a long, deep sleep. The fear was entirely gone, the painful misunderstanding was completely over, and for the first time in weeks, both of them felt truly safe, knowing they had finally survived the worst of the storm together.

How is the chapter guysssssssssss..??? Comment karo yaar and vote also