ABHI
(irritated)
Mom—
FRIDA
It can be like until someone ends up in the emergency room… for very different reasons.
Abhi nearly trips on air. Eric coughs to cover his laughter.
ABHI
(to himself)
Why am I still here?
MOM
(sweetly)
Because you're still my son, and now someone's husband. And both come with zero privacy.
DAD
Just be glad no one knocked on your door last night.
FRIDA
(mutters)
Would've been awkward. Real awkward.
ABHI
(heading out)
Anyway. Don't wake her. Don't go into the room. Let her sleep.
MOM
Of course, son. We won't disturb her. And you—take care. Come home soon. Don't keep your new bride waiting.
FRIDA
(faux romantic)
Aww.
ABHI
(leaving)
Goodbye.
He walks out, slamming the door just loud enough to express his pain.
MOM
(sighing dreamily)
He's so responsible. I hope Ishana realizes what a good man she married.
ERIC
(dryly)
Oh… she knows.
FRIDA
(smiling to herself)
She really knows.
INT. ABHI & ISHANA'S ROOM – LATER AFTERNOON
Ishana stirs awake. She yawns, stretches, then sits up, confused for a second. Notices the couch is empty. A note is left for her.
NOTE (P.OV.) — ABHI'S VOICE
"Emergency. Had to go in. Don't worry. Just rest.
Also, everyone thinks we had the most romantic first night ever, so… don't talk too much at breakfast.
– A"
Bright, sterile lights. The clock ticks past 12:50 PM.
Abhi stands over the operating table, focused, calm, every motion precise. Sweat dots his forehead.
The surgery is long — neurosurgery, delicate and intense.
Nurses move in sync. The only sounds are the soft beeps and clipped instructions.
Hours tick by.
Finally, he removes his gloves, steps back, and exhales slowly.
ABHI
(quietly, to the nurse)
"He's stable. Good job, team."
The nurse nods, handing him a towel.
NURSE
Sir, you… look different today.
ABHI
(sipping water, distracted)
Different? How?
NURSE
(smiling)
Not in a bad way. Just… I don't know. Your face. It's glowing. Like someone who just got a life upgrade.
Abhi blinks, caught off guard.
ABHI
(chuckling softly)
Glowing? Huh. Must be the OR lights.
NURSE
Nope. Pretty sure it's not that
Abhi finally smiles, the weight of the surgery lifting.
ABHI
Is it so?
(pause, then clearing his throat)
Anyway. My work's done. I'll be heading out. My wif—
(catches himself, casual)
—I mean, I have things to do.
He exits, tugging his white coat off, smile faint but real.
INT. ABHI & ISHANA'S ROOM – 1:15 PM
Ishana stands in a towel, damp hair wrapped in another. The bathroom mirror is still fogged, her face clean and fresh — but her eyes? Distant. Processing.
ISHANA (V.O.)
Last night.
His voice. The way he held the door shut like he was trying to hold me together too.
That look in his eyes… it wasn't anger. It was fear. For me. Because of me.
A flicker — Abhi slamming the door, his hands trembling near her shoulders.
Then:
ABHI (flashback)
"Next time, panic in the bed beside me."
She exhales sharply, sitting on the edge of the bed.
ISHANA (V.O.)
What am I even doing here? Everyone outside probably thinks I'm … some spoiled girl who doesn't even know how to be a wife.
Her stomach growls loudly.
She looks at the door.
ISHANA (V.O.)
I should eat something. But going out there alone? After all that? Just great.
She throws herself back on the bed dramatically, the towel nearly slipping.
Then sits up with a jolt.
ISHANA
(startled to herself)
Damn—wait! I'm not in my room. This isn't my house. I can't just wander around in a towel or a tee with no... support!
She looks around helplessly.
ISHANA (V.O.)
God, I miss my room. My soft pajamas. My drawer that always had exactly what I needed.
She looks at her suitcase — messy, half-open, clothes peeking out like they too don't know where they belong.
ISHANA
(standing over it, muttering)
Okay. Okay. Let's just find something. Anything.
She digs through the luggage, finding mismatched bras, one blouse, a shorts & T-shirt combo.
She holds them up.
ISHANA (V.O.)
A newlywed girl in shorts and an old Taylor Swift tee. Wow. Real "traditional bahu" energy, Ishana.
She sighs, sits on the floor.
Then a thought hits.
ISHANA
(softly)
If Abhi was here… he'd probably figure it all out in five minutes.
(beat)
He'd probably lecture me again…
(she chuckles softly)
God. When did I start missing his scolding?
INT. HOSPITAL PARKING LOT – SAME TIME
Abhi exits the building, tie loose, stethoscope stuffed into his bag. He walks to his car.
He takes out his phone — opens a message thread with Ishana. No new texts. He types, then pauses.
The blinking cursor waits.
He deletes the message and tosses the phone on the passenger seat.
ABHI (to himself)
No pressure. She just needs space.
But a smile still creeps in as he starts the engine.
INT. ABHI & ISHANA'S ROOM – LATER
Ishana finally emerges from the bathroom, dressed in a decent-enough long kurti and leggings she managed to find — hair still damp.
She looks at the note on the side table again. Runs her fingers over the words:
"Don't talk too much at breakfast."
ISHANA (V.O.)
Too late for that now.
She looks at the door. Her hand hovers over the handle. Stops.
ISHANA (V.O.)
Okay. Maybe five more minutes of hiding.
She opens her phone.
She hesitates.