In the quiet spaces between heartbeats, love speaks the loudest truths. Under the expansive cerulean sky, in the heart of Chitwan’s jungle, stood an old, sun-kissed hospital—an oasis of healing. Nurse Priya glided through the corridors, symbolising unwavering dedication. Amid the patients seeking solace, she encountered Vincent, a ninety-five-year-old man whose eyes held a lifetime of memories now fading away.

“Priya,” Vincent’s voice was always a soft call, a summons that pulled at her heartstrings with unexpected force. “Your hands are a comfort, more healing than any medicine a doctor could prescribe.” His words, filled with a depth of admiration that transcended mere gratitude, echoed in the corridors of her mind.

She would smile, dismissing the fluttering in her chest as mere professional admiration for his indomitable spirit. “You flatter me, Vincent. It’s merely my job.”

His gnarled hand would often find hers, a touch that lingered, speaking of gratitude and perhaps something more. How he looked at her, with a depth of emotion that belied his frail frame, stirred something in Priya, she thought long dormant. But she was a married woman, and such thoughts were a betrayal she could not afford. The conflict between her professional duty and personal feelings raged in her heart, a tempest of emotions she struggled to navigate, each wave threatening to capsise her. The turmoil in her heart was a storm that refused to be calmed.

Priya felt a tenderness for Vincent that was as surprising as it was profound. In the dimly lit hospital room, his presence was a beacon of warmth, his appreciation for her care a balm to her spirit. The way he listened to her, made her feel valued in a way that transcended the professional bounds of nurse and patient.

His eyes, alive with the embers of a long life, met hers with an intensity that spoke of sincere affection and gratitude. It was a quiet, gentle connection that resonated with her unexpectedly. Each shared smile and moment of laughter wove into her heart, creating a fondness she had never anticipated.

At home, Bikash, her husband, waited in silence. The days of passionate embraces and endless conversations had withered like the petals of a forgotten lotus in the sun. His words were sparse, his gestures of affection even rarer."

“Once again, you’re late,” Bikash's voice carried a hint of accusation as Priya returned home one evening.

“The patients needed me,” Priya responded, her voice carrying the weariness of her shift.

“Do they need you more than your husband?” His words were sharp and venomous, causing her to flinch.

“It’s not a matter of need, Bikash. It’s my duty,” Priya said, her tone defensive.

But Bikash could see how her eyes lost their lustre when she spoke of duty and how they shone when she recounted tales of Vincent’s wisdom. The anxiety gnawed at him like a relentless beast in his chest.

Bikash had experienced heartbreak before, and it made him cautious about love. After two painful breakups, he was afraid to show his emotions. He didn’t want to get hurt again, so he kept his feelings in check, especially with Priya. He was worried that being too open with his emotions would only lead to more pain. This self-imposed barrier prevented him from fully expressing his love and kept him emotionally distant. Even when he wanted to show Priya how much he cared, his past experiences held him back. His fear of getting hurt again stopped him from being as affectionate as he wanted, creating a deep sense of emotional distance.

“Tell me, Priya, does this old man’s admiration please you?” Bikash’s question hung in the air, heavy with implications.

Priya’s silence was her answer, and the space between them grew, filled with unspoken truths and fears, creating a palpable tension in their relationship that was as heavy as the Chitwan’s jungle air. The weight of their unmet expectations hung in the air, a burden they both carried, casting a shadow over their once vibrant love. The tension in their relationship was like a heavy fog that refused to lift.

In contrast, Bikash often seemed like a stranger to her. He was more focused on his work and outward interests, leaving her feeling distant due to his passions and preoccupations. Their growing silence felt like an unbridgeable gap filled with unspoken conversations and missed connections.

With Vincent, she felt understood and seen, while with Bikash, she often felt neglected and like an afterthought in his busy life. This stark difference left her feeling lost and confused, the emotional chasm between them widening with each passing day. The strain in their relationship was becoming more and more palpable.

On one hand, there was her dutiful husband, who was always there but often absent. On the other hand, there was an elderly man whose limited time left seemed to brighten her days. Priya found herself at a crossroads, torn between two very different paths.

Each day Priya spent with Vincent, their connection deepened. His stories of youth in the face of his impending mortality reminded her of the vibrancy of life, and his attentiveness filled a void she hadn't realised was there.

“You have a light in you, Priya,” Vincent whispered one day, his hand squeezing hers. It was a dimmed light.

In the honesty of his gaze, Priya saw a reflection of her longing.

Bikash kept his feelings for Priya hidden deep inside. He was afraid of losing her due to misunderstandings, bad luck, or someone else, so he never told her how he felt. Even though he cared for her deeply, he felt empty because he never showed affection or expressed his emotions.

Bikash often practised how he would tell her, but he could only manage distant and calm interactions when he was around her. This inner struggle made him feel desperate as he saw his silence push Priya further away every day.

Each day, Bikash’s mind raced with the possibility of losing Priya, not to death, but to a man whose heart was as generous as time was cruel. Each night, he lay awake, listening to the silence.

Bikash, unable to quell the jealous intensity that raced through his heart, watched as his wife blossomed under the attention of another man, albeit a dying one. His mind was a maelstrom of anxiety and stress, and he was unable to understand or accept the depth of Priya’s connection with Vincent.

“Why does he look at you with such affection?” One night, Bikash’s question was more of an attempt to understand than an accusation.

When Priya’s eyes met his, he saw a turmoil that mirrored his own. “Vincent sees me, truly sees me,” she said softly.

Priya’s confession about Vincent's understanding and appreciation created a gap between unspoken emotions and unmet expectations that neither knew how to bridge. Their growing distance was palpable due to their unspoken truths and fears.

In their tranquil home, Bikash and Priya sat closely together, listening to the melodic pattern of the monsoon rains. The storm offered a welcome break from the sterile hospital rooms and Bikash’s demanding business affairs.

A lightning bolt illuminated their faces momentarily, revealing the unspoken truth of their enduring love hidden beneath layers of unexpressed fears and daily distractions. Priya found herself torn between her fondness for a terminally ill elderly man and the profound impact of his acknowledgement of her value.

At the same time, Bikash realised that his self-restraint could put their love at risk. As they sat together, unable to vocalise their emotions, their love story remained an unfinished sonnet lingering in the humid air.

Kalwar is a writer from Chitwan.