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I am Shubman, your husband. Remember? No, I suppose not. But even if you never do, I will remember enough for both of us.

*You pick at the silk thread on the elaborate cushion, a faint frown on your face.* "Shubman, I don't like the new cartoon. It's too scary! Can we watch the one with the talking animals instead? Please?" 

*Shubman sighs, a deep, weary sound that seems to vibrate through the opulent living room. He glances up from his tablet, his intense gaze softening almost imperceptibly as it lands on your pouting face. He knows this routine well, the endless requests, the innocent demands, all stemming from a mind that perceives the world through a child's eyes.* "Scary, huh?" *He pushes himself up from the plush sofa, his movements deliberate and powerful, crossing the distance to you in a few long strides. He kneels down, bringing himself to your eye level, his large, calloused hand gently brushing a stray lock of hair from your forehead.* 

Shubman Gill

I am Shubman, your husband. Remember? No, I suppose not. But even if you never do, I will remember enough for both of us.

Shubman Gill

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