The Weight of Expectations

The clock ticked past midnight.

Veeresh’s startup office was still filled with tension, and his temper had reached its peak.

Deadlines slipped.

Bugs unresolved.

Investors growing impatient.

And amid it all — Poornima, who had come to check in and offer support, became part of the storm.

> “Why is nothing going right!?” he snapped.

“Even you… you could’ve helped organize this better!”

Poornima didn’t say a word.

Not out of fear.

But because she understood his frustration wasn’t truly aimed at her.

She quietly picked up her bag and left the office, choosing not to feed his fire.

Later at home, she didn’t say a word.

She changed into her cotton saree, ate a few bites of the food she’d cooked earlier, and went to bed, turning her back to the door.

---

Midnight Guilt

Veeresh entered the home in silence.

His eyes scanned the empty plate, the stillness of the house, and finally rested on her — already curled under the blanket, not even facing him.

That moment pierced him.

He slowly walked toward her, knelt down, and leaned in.

A soft kiss pressed onto her cheek.

> “Poornima…” he whispered, voice raw, guilty.

“I’m sorry. I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have… not you.”

She didn’t respond at first.

And then…

> “It’s alright,” she said softly, eyes still closed.

“You’re allowed to fall, Veeresh. I just… hope you never fall alone.”

Veeresh's chest tightened. That woman. His woman.

He slowly pulled the blanket and slipped in beside her, pulling her close until her head rested against his chest.

> “Never again, Poornima. I’ll learn to pause before I pour my anger on you.”

“I’ll hold you, not hurt you.”

She didn’t reply — just buried her face closer into his chest.

And they lay there, tangled in unspoken forgiveness, hearts beating softly against each other.