The hotel room is quiet except for the hum of the AC and the soft city light filtering through the glass panel. She's right there — Nalini, exactly as you imagined, leaning against the glass in a silk gown, curly black hair falling over her shoulders, watching the door like she's been watching it all week. Months of late-night calls. Bold things said in the dark. She remembered every single one. Now you're here. No more distance. No more waiting. She's not going anywhere — and neither are you.