As soon as Meera stepped inside, her eyes wandered across the room.

A king-sized bed lay at the center-low, almost touching the ground. Its beige velvet mattress melted seamlessly into the sand-colored sheets, as if born from the same breath. Soft pillows rested carelessly, like someone had just turned in their sleep. A light brown blanket hung off the corner, slipping as if it had fallen gently from someone's lap. The warm amber light-hidden in the ceiling and walls-bathed the room in a dreamy golden hue. On either side of the bed, simple pendant lights cast soft, ethereal shadows. In the corner stood two golden urns, filled with dried grass that added a rustic calm against the concrete-textured walls-plain, yet profound.

The room was massive-so much so that an entire apartment might seem smaller.

To the right of the bed, a giant glass window stretched from floor to ceiling. Heavy taupe curtains framed it with an understated grace. Near the window, two green plants stood like quiet guards, their broad leaves soaking in the mellow light. A slate-colored L-shaped sofa hugged the wall-a perfect reading nook. In front of it sat a dark wooden coffee table, its matte finish grounding the entire space.

To the right was a sliding door with frosted glass panels. Behind it, a clean and minimal dressing area was enclosed by tall mirrors and built-in wardrobes. A narrow passage led beyond, into the attached bathroom-rain-shower with transparent walls, soft stone textures. Everything spoke of care and clarity.

On the left wall, another large sliding glass door opened to a private balcony. Two cozy chairs and a collection of green plants faced the sky-staring silently into the dissolving colors of twilight. By the balcony wall, an elegant bookshelf made of rich oak stretched across half the wall-lined with books, candles, and carefully placed photographs.

Meera's steps slowed as her eyes traveled from one frame to another.

One photo captured her and Shivansh, both covered in mud, laughing uncontrollably after some childhood mischief. In another, they were dressed in costumes for a school function-caught mid-argument on stage. Some frames showed them coloring a wall together, dancing at a wedding, decorating a cake, or playfully fighting over Holi colors-Shivansh lifting her in his arms, both drenched in laughter and color. One photo had them bickering over a paintbrush.

But then... her eyes halted.

Right in the center of the photo collage, there was a larger frame. Different. Unique. It was just her. Meera-alone. Dressed in a golden saree, her hair swept to one side, a faint smile on her lips. That photo... was from their college farewell. Placed carefully, in the center of all their memories together.

People usually framed pictures of themselves in their rooms. But here... Shivansh had framed just her. Not them. Just... her.

Her fingers reached toward the frame, tracing its edges. A strange chill ran through her skin. That picture captured her smile-but her heart... it now stirred with a strange ache. Her eyes welled up.

And then... the door clicked softly.

Shivansh entered. Silent, steady-without sound or warning.

Meera didn't notice. She was still caught in the memory. But his eyes were already on her. Intently watching her. As if he knew exactly what she was thinking. His expression gave nothing away-calm, unreadable... but deep, infinitely deep.

Meera felt the presence.

She turned slowly-and their eyes locked.

She glared at him. And Shivansh... just stood still. Watching. Saying nothing. Asking nothing.

Her voice came, sharp and edged, "So... you must be very happy now."

He replied coldly, flat, "Yes. I am."

"After all, you wanted this marriage... didn't you? It's done now."

He didn't flinch. Instead, a faint smirk curled on his lips. "Yes, it's done. Otherwise, you were ready to walk around the fire with someone else."

Meera spun around, cutting him off mid-sentence, "He wasn't just 'someone else'! My father chose him... he liked him for me."

Shivansh's voice was calm, but layered with something heavier, "Well, your father liked me too. He chose me-for you."

Her face stiffened, eyes shimmering with suppressed pain. "I don't know what you said to him... what magic you did to change his mind..."

Shivansh stepped closer. His voice was firmer now, "Or maybe, Meera, it's not your father you're upset with. Maybe... you're just mad that you didn't marry that pretty little bird."

Meera's eyes sparked with rage. "Yes! I'm upset! I was starting to know him... understand him..."

Without a moment's pause, Shivansh grabbed her wrist-firm, quick. His hand slipped behind her waist, pulling her in. She stumbled into him.

His eyes were burning, his voice laced with pain, "Like you never even tried to know me, right?"

She looked away, her breath shaky and uneven.

"Whatever it is now... I am your husband. Just remember that. I won't tolerate hearing about another man."

His grip tightened.

Meera winced, "You're hurting me, Shivansh... let go!"

His gaze pierced into her soul. "Maybe if you looked away from others, you'd feel the pain you're causing right here..."

She whispered, barely audible, "I didn't hold onto you, Shivansh... but I never let go either... I just... couldn't walk away."

His eyes-swollen with unspoken wounds-held hers, "You never held on. But you didn't set me free either."

"What are you saying...?" she asked, breathless, confused.

A pause.

Then he asked, in a voice almost too soft, "You were starting to like him? Lo-?"

"No!" Meera's voice cracked-loud, instant, raw.

Shivansh gave a faint, bitter smile, "Right. What am I even asking... You, of all people..."

She interrupted him, "Say it. Go on, Shivansh. Say what you think."

He pulled her even closer.

"Don't come any closer, Shivansh!" Her eyes were filled with tears now-uncontrollable.

He looked into her soul... and murmured, "But you already did ask me to..."

And then, he...