Arjun

It’s almost morning. Ananya is sleeping peacefully beside me, her soft breaths creating a strange rhythm that I can’t help but notice. I vowed to myself not to wake up with my arm wrapped around her like yesterday. Yet here I am, unable to sleep—like always. Not that I couldn’t sleep at all, but it wasn’t like yesterday. Yesterday felt different, almost surreal. Today, the restlessness is back, refusing to let go.

Before Ananya, insomnia was my constant companion. My family doesn’t know, except Karan. Not that I told him—it’s just one of those things he figured out on his own.

Yesterday was different. For the first time in what feels like forever, I slept. Truly slept. With her in my arms, I found an inexplicable calm. At first, I dismissed it, convinced I was overthinking. Surely it wasn’t because of Ananya. But now, as I lie here, I can’t deny it anymore.

It was because of her.

Tonight, I didn’t sleep as well as yesterday, but just having her beside me helped. It’s only 4:30 a.m., and I know I won’t be able to go back to sleep. Instead, I find myself observing her—the delicate contours of her face, the soft curve of her lips, the way her hair spills across the pillow like ink on snow.

I want to pull her closer, to feel her warmth against me, to lose myself in the comfort she unknowingly provides.

In my defense, it’s not because I feel anything for her. I just want to sleep. That’s all.

Yeah, sure. Nothing else. That’s why you’re watching her like this, right?

Shut up.

She shifted slightly in her sleep, her brows furrowing as if something was troubling her. Was she having a nightmare? My eyes fell on her hands, clutching the blanket tightly. Yes, she must be.

“It’s okay, Ananya. You’re safe. You’re fine,” I whispered softly in her ear. My voice seemed to reach her; the tension in her features eased, and her grip on the blanket loosened.

What kind of dream could have unsettled her like that? I didn’t know, and maybe it didn’t matter. What mattered was that she was calm now—safe and at peace, at least for the moment.

It’s 7 AM now, and Ananya is starting to wake up. I haven’t had a wink of sleep since 4:30, and the frustration is gnawing at me. It shouldn’t be this way, but it is—because of her.

Before Ananya, sleepless nights were just my reality. But she changed that. She made me experience something I never thought I’d crave—the sweet, blissful taste of sleep. And now, I want more.

“Good morning,” she says softly, her voice still laced with sleep.

“Good morning,” I reply. “You can freshen up first. After that, we’ll head to your home for the peh-phera ritual.”

She nods, her hair falling in soft waves over her face, and disappears into the bathroom.

My eyes wander to the watch she gave me yesterday—a sleek, elegant design that suits me perfectly. It was thoughtful of her, and I can’t help but feel like I should return the gesture.

But that can wait. Right now, I need to focus on getting ready.

Ananya

When I woke up, Arjun was already awake. His face looked slightly drawn, as if he hadn’t slept well. Was something bothering him? I wanted to ask, but before I could, I hurried into the washroom to freshen up.

Today was important—we had to get ready to visit my house. The thought filled me with nervous energy, and as I stepped out of the washroom wearing a simple yet elegant salwar kameez. The dress feels regal against my skin, its deep emerald green shimmering under the soft lights. The intricate gold embroidery along the sleeves and edges adds an air of elegance, like it was made to tell a story of grace and tradition. The fabric flows around me effortlessly, heavy yet comforting, as if it’s wrapping me in confidence. Every detail, from the delicate embellishments to the sheer dupatta, feels purposeful, like it’s meant to transform me into someone I’ve always aspired to be—poised, beautiful, and unshaken.

I caught a glimpse of Arjun, still sitting on the edge of the bed. He gave me a fleeting glance before heading to the washroom himself.

Once he was inside, I busied myself by taking out his clothes. Selecting a crisp shirt and tailored trousers, I placed them neatly on the bed, making sure everything was in order. I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I was overstepping again, but brushed the thought aside. It was better to have everything ready.

I gently folded the crisp, white ribbed polo shirt and laid it beside the neatly pressed pair of black trousers on the bed. My hands hovered for a moment, making sure everything looked perfect. The fabric was soft under my fingers, and I could imagine how well it would suit him—clean, professional, yet effortlessly stylish.

The soft hum of the shower stopped, and I busied myself, pretending to adjust my dupatta while waiting for him to come out. My nerves were already on edge, and I wondered how the day would unfold.

As I heard the faint sound of water turning off in the bathroom, I glanced at the clock and quickly went to dry my wet hair. My reflection in the mirror showed a flurry of activity, my hands deftly working to dry my hairs. I was so engrossed that I didn’t hear him come out at first.

When I turned, I saw him standing near the bed, his eyebrows slightly raised as he looked at the clothes I had placed. I felt a wave of heat rush to my cheeks. Oh no. Did I really overstep?

“I’m sorry,” I said quickly, standing up and tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear, “I hope you don’t mind. I—um—I thought you might like these. But if you don’t, you can change into something else.”

His gaze shifted from the clothes to me, and then back. His expression softened, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly in what I thought might have been amusement. “It’s fine,” he said, his voice calm and even. “I’ll wear what you picked out.”

Relief washed over me, but there was something in his tone—a quiet acceptance, perhaps even curiosity—that made my heart flutter. I nodded quickly and returned to comb my hair, pretending to focus as he began dressing. But I couldn’t help sneaking a glance in the mirror. The clothes fit him perfectly, just as I had imagined.

And just like that, I felt a small sense of accomplishment, even if it was fleeting.

And he also wear the watch I gave him which made me happy. Soon we departure from home after taking blessings from mom and dad. Arjun is driving while I'm in the passenger seat.

He’s wearing the watch I gave him, and it unexpectedly fills me with a quiet happiness. It’s a simple gesture, but it feels like a small connection between us, a step forward in this new relationship.

After taking blessings from Mom and Dad, we leave for the pak phera ceremony. Arjun insists on driving, and I settle into the passenger seat beside him. The silence in the car is deafening at first, and I can’t help but notice how focused he looks on the road, his sharp features illuminated by the sunlight streaming through the windshield.

Deciding to break the ice, I turn to him with a playful smile. “You know, I’m impressed you actually wore the watch. I was half-expecting it to stay in its box forever.”

He glances at me briefly, his expression softening into something that almost resembles a smile. “It’s a good watch. Practical and… well, thoughtful.”

“Thoughtful, huh?” I tease lightly. “I’ll take that as a compliment. But you’re making it sound like I gifted you a toolbox instead of a watch.”

He lets out a soft chuckle, and the sound surprises me—it’s warm, genuine, and oddly reassuring. “I’m just not used to gifts, that’s all. But… thank you. It means something.”

His honesty catches me off guard, and for a moment, I don’t know what to say. Instead, I decide to steer the conversation to something lighter. “So, what’s the plan after the pak phera? Are you going to drop me back home, or do I get a grand tour of your so-called CEO lifestyle?”

He raises an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a smirk. “My so-called CEO lifestyle isn’t as glamorous as you think. Meetings, emails, and more meetings. Not exactly grand tour material.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “You make it sound like a 9-to-5 desk job. Come on, there’s got to be something interesting about being the boss. Perks? Secret hideouts? A private chef, maybe?”

His smirk deepens, and I can tell he’s warming up to the banter. “I hate to disappoint, but no secret hideouts or private chefs. Just a lot of work and coffee.”

“Ah, coffee,” I say dramatically, leaning back in my seat. “The real boss behind every CEO.”

He laughs again, a sound I’m starting to like more than I expected. For the first time, the tension between us seems to lift, replaced by something lighter, easier. As the miles pass, I find myself hoping that maybe, just maybe, this journey will lead us to more than just pak phera—it might lead us to a better understanding of each other.

As the car slowed to a stop outside my family’s modest house, my heart raced. This was the first time I’d be bringing Arjun home after our marriage, and though the circumstances were unusual, I hoped everything would go smoothly.

The gate creaked open as my father stepped out, followed by Mamma and Isha. Their smiles were warm and welcoming, though I could sense Ma's nervous energy. She always wanted everything to be perfect.

"Namaste, beta," Mamma said, holding an aarti thali in her hands. Her bangles jingled softly as she performed the ritual, her eyes flitting between me and Arjun. "God bless you both."

Arjun stood politely, his hands clasped in front of him, while I felt an odd mix of pride and discomfort. Was he comfortable? Did he find this too traditional?

Once the ritual was done, Mamma placed a small red tilak on both our foreheads. “Come inside,” she said, ushering us in. Isha bounded over, her usual exuberance making me smile.

“Jiju, you’re really taller!” she teased, looking up at him with wide eyes.

Arjun chuckled softly, his deep voice resonating. "I hope that's a compliment."

We settled in the living room, the aroma of Ma's cooking already wafting in. Papa started asking Arjun about his work and the company, and I watched how effortlessly Arjun answered, his tone polite but measured. He seemed at ease, and I was grateful for that.

For the next few hours, we talked, laughed, and shared stories. I found myself relaxing as I slipped back into the role of a daughter and sister. I joked with Isha, teased Baba about his cricket obsession, and helped Ma bring tea and snacks.

At one point, I noticed Arjun watching me. His gaze was thoughtful, almost assessing, and I felt a twinge of self-consciousness. What was he thinking?

As I handed him a cup of tea, he spoke quietly, "How are you always like this? ."

I blinked. "Like what?"

He shrugged. "Cheerful. Lighter. "

I simply smiled.

Lunch was a lively affair, with Ma insisting Arjun try every dish she had made. “Beta, this is Ananya’s favorite. And this too!” she said, piling his plate high.

Arjun obliged, though I noticed he ate slowly, savoring each bite. Isha and Baba kept the conversation flowing, and for a while, it felt like we were just an ordinary couple visiting family.

When it was finally time to leave, Ma hugged me tightly, whispering, "Take care, beta." I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat.

As we drove back, the streets were quieter, and the sunlight was mellow. I leaned back in my seat, letting the silence stretch comfortably between us.

Then, to my surprise, Arjun pulled over near a small shop.

"What are we doing here?" I asked, curious.

He stepped out without answering, and I followed. It was a churi shop, the kind with glass counters displaying rows of colorful bangles.

My stomach churned the moment my eyes fell on the vibrant display of bangles. Once, I had adored them—their delicate clinking, their kaleidoscope of colors—but now, they were nothing more than chains to a memory I wanted to bury. A cold dread washed over me, and my fingers tightened instinctively around my bag.

The food I had eaten earlier now felt like a terrible mistake, sitting uneasily in my stomach, threatening to rise. I shouldn't have eaten. I shouldn't be here.

"Pick a set," Arjun said, his tone casual but firm, as if this was a simple request.

My heart thudded painfully in my chest. The air felt stifling, heavy with unsaid words. I...I can't do this. I can't stay here. The walls of the tiny shop seemed to close in, pressing against the fragile threads of my composure.

I shifted uncomfortably, the urge to escape growing stronger. I needed to leave. Now. Before the past crept in, before the memories clawed their way to the surface.

I stole a glance at Arjun, who was waiting, his expression unreadable. No. I couldn’t let it happen. Not here. Not in front of him.

The knot in my stomach tightened further, and I fought to steady my breathing. My voice was barely above a whisper when I finally spoke. “I don’t want any,” I said, my tone sharper than I intended.

His brows furrowed slightly, confusion flickering in his eyes. “It’s just a gift, Ananya.”

“It’s not necessary,” I said quickly, avoiding his gaze. “Let’s go.”

Something in my tone must have struck him because he didn’t press further. He nodded slowly and turned back toward the car. Relief flooded through me, but it was short-lived.

As I followed him, clutching my bag tightly, I knew I hadn’t escaped entirely. The memory still lingered, tugging at the edges of my mind. But for now, I had managed to keep it at bay. For now, that was enough.

Arjun

We were almost home, the city lights casting fleeting shadows across the car’s interior. Ananya had been silent ever since we left the churi shop. I couldn’t quite piece together what had happened back there, but something in her demeanor had shifted. Whatever it was, I hadn’t pushed her—there was a clear line she didn’t want crossed.

"Ananya?" I finally said, breaking the heavy silence.

She startled slightly, her gaze snapping away from the window to meet mine. Her lips parted, and for a moment, she seemed to struggle for words. "I'm sorry, Arjun," she said softly, almost hesitantly. "I didn’t mean to hurt you."

Hurt me? That was the last thing I’d thought.

"I just... I don’t like churis," she continued, her voice laced with an edge of nervousness. "I’m not a fan of them, that’s all. I’m sorry."

"You don’t have to apologize, Ananya," I said, keeping my tone light but firm. "It’s perfectly fine not to like something." After a brief pause, I added, "I didn’t know you didn’t like churis. If I had, I wouldn’t have stopped there."

She shook her head quickly, brushing away my words. "It’s not your fault, Arjun. How could you have known? There's no girl who doesn’t like churis—it’s so uncommon that you’d never have guessed it."

She smiled then, that cheerful spark returning to her eyes. It was as if she was determined to restore the lightness between us, brushing off whatever had dimmed it moments ago. But something flickered in her gaze before vanishing entirely, leaving me wondering.

I let out a soft chuckle, relieved that the tension seemed to have eased. "Well, uncommon or not, you’ve proved that stereotype wrong."

Her smile widened, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was hiding something. Still, I didn’t push. Not yet.

By the time we reached home, the silence between us was no longer uncomfortable. It felt... tentative, like an unspoken truce. Whatever had caused that moment back at the shop, I knew we’d have to address it eventually.

Ananya

As we got home, I went straight to our room, pulled out a comfortable set of clothes, and headed to the bathroom to change. Arjun wasn’t here. He’d mentioned he had something to take care of and left right after dropping me off.

I sighed, leaning briefly against the closed bathroom door. Today had been intense—a near-death experience that left my nerves rattled. If I had been with anyone other than Arjun, the memories triggered by those bangles would have sent me running straight into the shower, desperate to wash away the past. But somehow, with Arjun, it was different. He made me feel safe—without even knowing the storms I’ve weathered.

I changed into my clothes and stepped out of the bathroom, trying to push the memories aside. Tomorrow would be a big day, my first day at the job, and I needed to focus.

About an hour later, Arjun walked into the room. He looked calm, collected, as always, but there was a hint of something on his face I couldn’t quite read. He sat down in front of me, his gaze steady.

“Ananya,” he began, “we’ll be moving to my apartment tomorrow.”

I blinked, taken aback. “Your apartment?”

He nodded. “I live there alone. My family doesn’t stay with me full-time; I come home occasionally. Will you be okay with that?”

I didn’t know he had his own apartment. Well, I knew he could afford it, but I hadn’t expected him to live separately. The thought caught me off guard.

“What about Mom?” I asked, frowning slightly. “Did you talk to her about this?”

“Yes,” he replied evenly. “She’s known about it from the start, and I’ve already spoken to her.” He leaned in a little, his voice softening. “So, are you okay with it? Moving into my apartment with me?”

I hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Yes, I’m okay with it.”

He gave me a small smile, then added, “There’s one more thing.”

“What is it?” I asked, curiosity piqued.

Without a word, he pulled out a small box and handed it to me. “Your return gift,” he said simply.

My heart skipped a beat as I stared at the box in his hand. Slowly, I took it from him, my fingers brushing against his briefly. I opened it, and my breath caught in my throat.

My eyes widen at the sight when I open the box. It’s a watch. Not a simple one. But a breathtakingly beautiful timepiece that sparkles with an elegance I’ve never seen before. The intricate design glimmers under the light, the gold tone exuding luxury, while every inch of it is adorned with tiny, flawless crystals. The Roman numerals on the dial add a touch of timeless sophistication, and the craftsmanship is impeccable. I can hardly believe it’s mine.

I glance up at Arjun, words stuck in my throat. He stands there, his expression unreadable, yet his gesture speaks volumes.

It was exquisite—elegant, shimmering, and so thoughtfully chosen. My fingers brushed over the intricate design, the gold and crystals catching the light like tiny stars. It wasn’t just a watch; it was a masterpiece.

I glanced up at Arjun, my voice barely above a whisper. “This… it’s beautiful.”

He leaned back slightly, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I thought a lot before choosing it,” he said, his voice steady. “I know you don’t like churi… so I wanted to give you something that wouldn’t make you uncomfortable.”

My chest tightened at his words. Without knowing why, without asking  me a word, he just respected my choice. I couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness behind his gesture.

I swallowed hard, my emotions threatening to spill over. “You didn’t have to… but thank you,” I murmured, looking down at the watch again, unable to meet his eyes.

“Do you like it?” he asked, his tone soft yet uncertain, as if my answer mattered more than he’d ever admit.

I looked up at him, a genuine smile spreading across my face despite the whirlwind of emotions inside me. “I don’t just like it, Arjun. I love it. Thank you.”

For a moment, his expression softened, and I could see a flicker of something in his eyes—relief, maybe, or satisfaction. He didn’t say anything more, but he didn’t need to. The silence between us spoke louder than words.

                              ♡♡

In the morning, when I woke up, Arjun was already gone to his office. I got up and quickly got ready for my first day at Aurum Dynamics. After checking my outfit one last time in the mirror—a crisp white shirt paired with black trousers—I headed downstairs.

"Best of luck, beta," Mom said, her eyes full of encouragement.
"Yes, good luck, Ananya!" Bhabi added with a warm smile.

I nodded, thanking them, and with a deep breath, I stepped out. The drive to the office took about thirty minutes, giving me enough time to go over my mental checklist.

When I finally reached Aurum Dynamics, I couldn’t help but be in awe. The glass façade shimmered under the sunlight, making the building look even more majestic than I remembered from my interview. But today wasn’t about being an interviewee. Today, I was an employee.

“Come on, Ananya, you can do this,” I muttered under my breath, straightening my posture before stepping inside.

The receptionist guided me to the Project Management Department, where I met Dev Anand, the Senior Project Manager. He was tall and had an easy smile that immediately put me at ease.

"Hi, Ananya, right?" he greeted, extending his hand.
"Yes, that’s me," I replied, shaking his hand.
"Welcome to the team. Let me take you to meet everyone," he said warmly.

I followed him through the sleek, modern corridors until we entered a spacious room bustling with activity. The atmosphere was electric, with people engrossed in discussions, tapping away on laptops, and brainstorming ideas on whiteboards.

“Team, may I have your attention?” Dev’s voice was firm yet friendly, and the chatter around us died down. “This is Ananya Kapoor, our new Project Coordinator. She’ll be working closely with all of us.”

I smiled politely, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves.

Dev gestured toward a young woman with a sharp bob haircut and stylish glasses. “This is Ishita Bansal, our Marketing Specialist. Ishita’s creativity drives most of our campaigns.”
Ishita stood up, her smile warm but confident. “Hi, Ananya! Welcome to the team. If you ever need a crash course on how to survive Dev’s endless meetings, I’m your go-to person,” she quipped, making everyone chuckle.
“Hey, they’re productive!” Dev shot back with mock indignation before turning back to me.

“Let’s not scare her on her first day,” he added with a grin.

He introduced me to the rest of the team, each person giving a brief nod or smile. Everyone seemed approachable, which eased my nervousness.

"Alright, Ananya," Dev said, "we’ll start with a quick orientation. For now, just settle in, get to know everyone, and let me know if you need anything."
"Thank you," I replied, grateful for his welcoming demeanor.

As I sat at my new desk, Ishita walked over with a coffee cup. “First-day tip: never say no to caffeine here. Trust me, you’ll need it.”
“Noted,” I said with a small laugh, starting to feel like I belonged.

I was ready to take on this new chapter.

After a few hours of settling into work, reviewing documents, and familiarizing myself with the team’s ongoing projects, Ishita suddenly leaned over from her desk.

“Hey, heads up! Our CEO is on his way. We need to be ready to greet him,” she said, her tone half excited, half serious.

My heart skipped a beat. I hadn't even met the CEO during my interview, but from what I’d heard, he was a strict but brilliant leader. Straightening my posture, I quickly adjusted my blazer, trying to appear as professional as possible.

Soon, there was a ripple of movement across the office. Everyone began gathering near the entrance to welcome him. I joined the line, my mind racing with a mix of nerves and curiosity.

And then he walked in.

Confident strides. An air of authority. The room seemed to shift with his presence. But as my eyes met his face, the world around me froze.

Arjun?

My heart sank. Arjun Malhotra? My husband? He’s the CEO?

I struggled to maintain my composure as he moved closer, greeting the team with polite nods and a faint smile. When it was my turn, I folded my hands, greeting him as formally as I could. “Good afternoon, sir.”

He looked at me—his expression unreadable, but his eyes lingered for a second too long. Was that surprise I saw flicker across his face? Or was I imagining it?

“Good afternoon,” he replied curtly, moving on to the next person.

I stood rooted in place, trying to process what had just happened. Arjun, the man I had married just days ago, the one who left for work this morning without a word, was the CEO of Aurum Dynamics?

How could I not know? And more importantly, why didn’t he tell me? Not like that I have ever asked him nor I told the name of the company I'm going to work.

My mind buzzed with questions, but I forced myself to stay calm. There was no way I could let anyone see my shock. Not now. Not here.

As the team dispersed and returned to work, I stayed at my desk, my thoughts in a whirlwind. This wasn’t just a new job anymore—it was about to get far more complicated than I had ever imagined.

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