The apartment felt heavier than usual, the air thick with unspoken words and the weight of decisions yet to be made. Vikrant moved through the space with a quiet intensity, his steps purposeful but guarded. He had always been a man of control, but now, with Seema’s pregnancy looming over them like a storm cloud, even he felt the ground shifting beneath his feet. He glanced at the closed door of the guest room, where Seema had been holed up for the past week. Her silence was unnerving, a stark contrast to the fiery woman he had known. But her illness was undeniable—her pale face, her frail frame, and the way she barely left the bed all screamed of a body and mind at war.