The house was finally quiet. In the nursery, nanha Aarav was deep in sleep, his small chest rising and falling in a perfect rhythm. The chaotic sounds of the day had vanished, leaving Raj and Diya alone in the kitchen. But the air here wasn't quiet. It was heavy. It was hot. It was full of a hunger that had been building for hours.

Raj stood by the stove, but he wasn't looking at the pots. He was looking at Diya. He took the kitchen knife from her hand very slowly and put it on the table. He didn't want her to chop vegetables. He wanted her.