Chapter 38 – The Comfort in Routine
There's a certain beauty in routine.
It's not glamorous. It's not exciting.
But it's real. It's steady. And it's yours.
—
Mehar woke up to the sound of Aarav's alarm buzzing in the kitchen, the familiar scent of coffee wafting through the apartment.
It wasn't the most perfect way to wake up. Not dramatic or movie-like. But it was their way.
Aarav, still half asleep, stumbled into the living room with his hair messy, rubbing his eyes as he tried to adjust to the daylight. Mehar was already up, her hair pulled into a messy bun, her face glowing with that early-morning calmness only she could have.
"Coffee's ready," she said without looking up, her fingers scrolling through her phone. "You're gonna be late for work if you keep snoozing it."
He grinned, though still groggy. "If I didn't have you to remind me, I'd probably sleep all day."
She just shook her head, the hint of a smile on her lips. "I'm doing it because I love you," she said softly, "You know that, right?"
Aarav walked over to the kitchen counter and took a sip of his coffee. It was as hot as always, and surprisingly, it tasted exactly the same every day—comforting.
"I know," he murmured, looking at her. "And I love you more."
—
The day went on like any other.
Aarav went to work, Mehar spent her day working from home. The rhythm of their lives felt… easy. Uncomplicated.
No dramatic changes. No thrilling surprises. But it was enough.
They'd make dinner together—usually something simple. The same dish they'd had a dozen times before. Sometimes they'd laugh over who could chop vegetables faster, or who would do the dishes.
And at the end of the night, when the day was done and the apartment felt quiet, they'd sit on the couch, the soft hum of the city still audible through the walls. They'd talk about their day, about work, about nothing.
Or sometimes, they'd just sit in silence. The kind of silence that felt safe, like a blanket you could wrap around yourself after a long day.
It wasn't perfect. But it was their routine. And it felt right.
—
Later, as Mehar prepared for bed, Aarav came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder.
"Do you ever wonder what life would be like if we didn't have this?" he asked quietly, the question almost coming out of nowhere.
Mehar smiled, her heart swelling at the simple question. "No," she said, turning to face him, "I don't wonder. I'm happy with this. With you."
Aarav kissed her forehead, his lips soft against her skin. "I'm happy too."
—
And as they climbed into bed that night, under the same yellow curtains that had witnessed countless moments like this, Mehar realized something.
There didn't need to be excitement every day. There didn't need to be huge declarations of love or grand gestures.
Sometimes, love was in the routine.
In the quiet mornings.
In the simple, steady rhythm of their lives.
And that, she thought as she drifted off to sleep, was more than enough.
—