When the Lights Go Out

Ayaan leaned against the kitchen counter, scrolling through his phone, but his mind wasn’t on the screen. It had been one of those days—long, exhausting, and loud. But now, the house was still. Too still.

He glanced at the clock. 9:32 PM.

The bedroom door was slightly open, a soft light glowing from inside. He knew she was in there—probably lost in one of her books.A small smile tugged at his lips. Sana. His wife.

They had been married for four years, but some things never changed—like the way his heart always picked up speed when he thought about her.

Pushing off the counter, Ayaan walked to the bedroom. When he stepped inside, he found her exactly where he expected—sitting cross-legged on the bed, her dark hair falling loosely over her shoulders. She wore one of his old T-shirts, and somehow, it made her look even more tempting.

“You’re quiet tonight,” he said, his voice low.

Sana didn’t glance up right away. “I thought you were busy with your phone,” she teased, turning a page.

Ayaan laughed under his breath, moving to sit beside her. “I was. But it’s not nearly as interesting as you.”

She tilted her head, finally meeting his gaze. “Oh? And what exactly is so interesting about me, Mr. Khan?”

He leaned closer, his eyes tracing the curve of her smile. “Everything.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The air between them grew warmer—heavier. Ayaan brushed his fingers lightly over her knee, the simple touch sending a spark through him.

“You know,” he murmured, “you make it very hard to focus on anything else when you look like that.”

Sana laughed softly, setting her book aside. “And here I thought you were too tired after work.”

“I’m never too tired for you,” he whispered, his voice softer now.

She shifted closer, the warmth of her skin brushing against his. “Good. Because I might’ve missed you a little today.”

Ayaan’s heart thudded a little faster. It wasn’t just her words—it was the way she said them. Quiet. Warm. Like she had been waiting for this moment all day.

“Just a little?” he teased.

Her smile widened. “Maybe more than a little.”

He reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I missed you too.”

And when the lights went out, there was no more distance between them—just laughter, warmth, and the quiet promise that some things never fade.