The night they moved into their apartment, Zack undressed Suhani in the middle of the bare living room. Goose bumps erupted on her spine as he licked her earlobe and the curve of her neck. She clutched his shoulder with one hand and with the other took sips from a chilled bottle of Moët & Chandon. The only light was from the Atlanta skyline. She needs to take their marriage back to that moment, so ripe with hope and excitement and promise.

“I’m glad she called me, too.” Zack faces the floor. “Natasha and I have been talking about how she’s been feeling.”

“Talking? When?”

A shadow of guilt crosses his unshaven face. “In the evenings, when you’ve been busy with work.”

Natasha and Zack exchange a knowing glance. If they were at the casting for that Indian Matchmaking show on Netflix, they’d be up for the roles of “funny, free-spirited woman” and “even-tempered white guy,” while Suhani would be the “uptight, know-it-all bitch” they’ve both been mad at.

A nurse, Shelly, comes in to check Natasha’s vital signs. She pauses when she sees Suhani. “Oh, Dr. Joshi! How nice to see you, darlin’.”

Shelly is one of the best ER nurses at Atlanta Memorial Hospital. Her gray hair, thick glasses, and southern accent give her the vibe of a loving grandmother with an edge, someone who regularly bakes cookies and also shares stories of her wild youth.

Suhani nods. “You, too, Shelly. We should be wrapping up here soon.”

Shelly understands to not ask any more questions and gives a singsong, “Lovely.”

“Lovely” is the last word Suhani would use to describe the moment, but she does appreciate Shelly’s ability to inject some cheer into even the bleakest situations.

“We’ll give you some space to take her vitals.” Suhani pushes aside the curtain and motions for Zack to follow her.

Anticipation fills her, one similar to the kind she had when they first got together and she’d get all dressed up for their dates, waiting for Zack to pick her up, wondering where the night would lead.

“You look tired,” she says once they’re standing in an empty corner of the emergency room.

Zack gives a weak laugh. “Thanks.”

“No, sorry, I don’t mean bad,” Suhani says. “I can just tell you haven’t gotten much sleep. I know it sounds strange, but I like seeing you this way.”

“I always liked seeing you when you were tired, too,” Zack says, his usually enthusiastic voice flattened today.