The grand doors of the Malhotra mansion opened slowly.
Meera stepped inside, her heartbeat quickening with every step. The house was huge, elegant, and far beyond anything she had ever imagined. Crystal lights sparkled above her, and the marble floors reflected her hesitant footsteps.
This place didn't feel like home.
"This is your home now," Aarav said, his voice calm and distant as he walked ahead without turning back.
Meera looked around quietly.
Home… the word felt unfamiliar.
A line of servants stood waiting.
"Welcome, ma'am," they greeted respectfully.
Meera felt awkward. She wasn't used to this kind of attention. She gave a small nod and followed Aarav upstairs.
He stopped in front of a large door and opened it.
"This is our room."
Meera stepped inside and froze.
The room was beautiful—soft lighting, elegant furniture, everything perfectly arranged. It looked like something out of a dream.
But her thoughts stopped at one word.
"Our?
She turned to him nervously. "We're… sharing?"
Aarav sighed slightly, as if he expected this reaction.
"We're married," he said simply. "At least in front of everyone, we have to act like it."
Meera looked down, unsure what to say.
"I'll sleep on the couch," Aarav added.
She looked up, surprised.
He had already walked toward the couch, keeping his distance.
"Don't overthink it," he said.
For the first time since arriving, Meera felt a little at ease.
That night, silence filled the room.
Meera lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep.
Everything had changed so quickly.
A stranger… her husband.
It still didn't feel real.
On the other side, Aarav sat on the couch, focused on his laptop, as if nothing had changed in his life.
Hours passed.
Meera finally spoke softly, "You should sleep."
"I have work," he replied without looking at her.
Meera hesitated for a moment, then slowly got up.
Aarav frowned slightly as she walked toward him.
Before he could react, she gently took the laptop from his hands.
He looked at her, surprised.
No one had ever done that before.
"You need rest," Meera said calmly. "Work can wait."
Their eyes met for a brief second.
Something unspoken passed between them.
Aarav didn't argue.
Instead, he quietly lay down on the couch.
Meera returned to the bed, her heart beating a little faster than before.
The next morning felt different.
Meera woke up early and went to the kitchen.
The servants were shocked to see her there.
"Ma'am, you don't need to do this," one of them said.
Meera smiled softly. "It's okay. I want to."
She prepared breakfast with her own hands.
When Aarav came downstairs, adjusting his watch, he stopped.
The dining table was set… with homemade food.
That was new.
Meera placed a plate in front of him.
"You should eat before leaving," she said.
Aarav looked at her for a moment.
"You didn't have to do this."
"I know," she replied gently. "I wanted to."
He didn't say anything more.
But for the first time, he actually sat down… and ate.
Days passed, and a routine slowly formed between them.
They spoke little, but the silence was no longer uncomfortable.
One evening, Meera was in the library, trying to reach a book from a high shelf.
She stood on her toes, stretching, but couldn't reach it.
Suddenly, a hand reached above her and picked up the book easily.
Meera froze.
Aarav was standing right behind her.
Too close.
"Next time, just ask," he said quietly.
Meera turned slightly, their faces only inches apart.
Her breath hitched.
"Thank you…" she whispered.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Then Aarav stepped back quickly, as if realizing something.
"Be careful," he said, his tone returning to normal.
But the moment had already left its mark.
That night, Meera lay awake again.
Why was her heart reacting like this?
This was just a contract.
Nothing more.
She repeated it to herself again and again.
But somewhere deep inside…
Something was beginning to change.