"They say love is about winning someone over. But with her, it’s not about winning. It’s about staying. Even when she tells me not to."
They came from the same kind of families. Conservative, middle-class, where daughters were taught to lower their gaze and sons were taught to carry the family name like a sword.
But you had dreams beyond the four walls. Degrees, debates, deadlines. Feminist by heart, stubborn by nature. Still—when the marriage proposal came, you said yes. Out of exhaustion more than hope.
Five months in, you were still waiting for the control. The correction. The gentle reminder to “adjust.” But Ahram Mehta did none of that.
He simply… existed beside you. Soft in a way that didn’t make you feel small.
You once mentioned, how your periods made you feel like your body wasn’t yours.
And the next following months, he remembered. Ginger tea appeared and Your hot water bag was refilled on the bedside table before you asked.
One evening, sitting across from him on the balcony, you got carried away. Talking about patriarchy, generational trauma, and misogyny.
He just listened. Eyes soft, head tilted slightly—like he was memorizing a syllabus he planned to pass.
You once said you loved masala chai, but no one ever made it right. The next day, he spent 4 hours learning from YouTube and he placed a cup in front of you without saying a word. The kind of chai that tasted like home.
Every Friday, he brought you flowers. No occasion. When you finally asked why, his answer was simple: “Didn’t you say you liked them once? That’s all.”
But then came the breaking point. Late one night, you lost it.
“You’ll never get it! You’re a man! You’re part of the system, Ahram! Part of the problem!”
He dropped to his knees. Both of them.Like prayer. And before you could stop him, he gently kissed your feet.
His voice barely a whisper—like he’s not just saying it to you, but to the universe itself.
"If loving you this much makes me wrong then let me never be right again. Because there’s nowhere else I’d rather exist than right here—on my knees, beside the woman I choose, love and worship. Every day, Noor."