Isha's POV

The room was quiet when I first opened my eyes, though not completely dark. A faint stream of golden light slipped gently through the window, scattering across the floor like pieces of sunshine. It was the first morning after my wedding, the first time I was waking up not as a daughter in my father's house, but as someone's wife. The realization itself was enough to stir my heart into a rhythm I could barely control.

I blinked slowly, allowing the traces of sleep to leave me. My lashes felt heavy, but there was something soft, something warm about the morning light that refused to let me stay asleep any longer. The brightness inside the room was not harsh - it was delicate, like a painter brushing soft strokes of gold across the canvas of my new life.

For a moment, I lay there still, staring at the ceiling above me. Everything felt strangely dreamlike, almost too perfect to be real. The air was different, carrying the faint fragrance of sandalwood and the lingering touch of last night's rituals. My heart told me I should feel anxious, perhaps even awkward. But instead, what I felt was a curious peace - a sense of something beginning, something beautiful yet unknown.

I slowly sat up, stretching my arms above my head. My body felt light, as if floating between the remnants of a dream and the weight of a new reality. I let out a small yawn and stretched my legs too, feeling the cold marble floor against my bare feet. The sound of my anklet chimed softly in the stillness, delicate bells breaking the silence like a secret melody meant only for me.

And then, my eyes fell on him.

Shivam.

He was sleeping peacefully on the other side of the bed, his face turned slightly toward me. For a long moment, I forgot how to breathe. His expression was so calm, so free of the sternness he usually carried, that I almost doubted this was the same man I had seen yesterday, standing tall, commanding, and confident in front of everyone. Now he looked nothing like the strong, composed Shivam everyone knew.

There was a childlike innocence on his face, as if the weight of the world had slipped away in his dreams. His lips curved ever so slightly, the hint of a smile resting there, and the soft strands of his hair fell untidily across his forehead. The blanket, careless as always, was only half covering his body, sliding down to reveal the strong line of his shoulders.

My fingers itched with the temptation to reach out, to brush the hair off his forehead, to trace the edges of his jaw where the morning stubble was beginning to form. But I held myself back. Instead, I bent down slowly, my anklets tinkling faintly, and pulled the blanket up over him so he wouldn't catch a chill.

I whispered almost unconsciously, "When you're asleep, you look so cute... so impossibly gentle. But who knows why, the moment you open your eyes, you turn so... shameless?"

The words slipped out before I could stop them. I hadn't meant to speak aloud, but even in a whisper, they felt heavy in the silence. I glanced nervously at him, making sure he hadn't stirred. To my relief, he continued to sleep, his breathing steady and calm.

The sunlight was growing stronger, spilling across his face in bright streaks. I raised my hand instinctively, trying to block the rays from falling on him. It was almost funny, the way I sat there, shielding his face as if he were some fragile secret I had to protect. I didn't know why I cared so much. Maybe because deep down, in that moment, he felt like mine.

"Shivam ji," I murmured softly, "how long will you sleep like this, hmm? Who knows how many hours you can just lie here peacefully while I keep staring at you like a fool..."

I let out a small laugh under my breath, shaking my head at myself. The sound felt strange in the still room, but also comforting. My lips curled into a shy smile as I whispered again, "Fine... stay here and sleep. I'm going to get ready for the day."

With that, I turned toward the drawer, my anklet bells following me like little companions. I pulled it open carefully, taking out a fresh sari. The fabric slipped through my fingers like liquid silk, the deep maroon reminding me again that I was a bride, a wife, someone who belonged to another home now. The thought was overwhelming, but also thrilling in a way I couldn't explain.

Clutching the sari close, I made my way to the bathroom. The wooden door creaked softly as I pushed it open, stepping inside with a quiet determination. My reflection in the mirror stopped me for a moment. My hair was loose, tumbling over my shoulders, my eyes still heavy from sleep but glowing faintly with something new - a shy kind of happiness, perhaps? Or was it nervousness? Maybe it was both.

I placed the sari carefully on the counter, letting my fingers trace the intricate embroidery. The weight of it reminded me of my responsibilities, but also of the beauty of this new beginning. I turned on the tap, the sound of running water filling the room. As I splashed the cool liquid on my face, I couldn't stop the smile that formed on my lips.

This was my life now. This house, this room, this man sleeping peacefully in the other room - all of it was mine. And though it felt daunting, it also filled me with a warmth I hadn't known before.

I stayed there for a while, staring at my reflection, trying to see myself the way he might see me. Would he notice the small details? The way my anklets sang with every step? The way my bangles caught the morning light and glittered like stars? Would he see me not just as his wife, but as someone who belonged to his world, someone he could trust, care for, maybe even... love?

The thought made my cheeks flush pink. I pressed my palms against them, trying to cool the heat. It was silly of me, I knew. But it was the kind of silliness I didn't want to let go of. Because for the first time, I wasn't just living for myself - I was living with him, for him, and perhaps, one day, because of him.

I closed my eyes and whispered to my reflection, "Let's see what today brings..."

And with that, I began to get ready, my heart fluttering like a bird discovering the sky for the very first time.

Shivam's POV

The night was deep, wrapped in a silence that only the ticking of the wall clock dared to disturb. The moonlight poured in through the half-open window, falling gently across the room like silver threads woven by some unseen hand. I turned my eyes toward the bed and noticed that Isha's breathing had slowed. At first, I thought she was simply resting, but then I realized-she had already drifted into sleep.

Her chest rose and fell in a quiet rhythm, and with each breath, she seemed to sink further into dreams. The moonlight brushed her face softly, making her look almost otherworldly. Was it magical? Dreamy? Perhaps both. But truth be told, no description could capture what she looked like in that moment. To understand it, one would have to see her-my Isha-sleeping peacefully, untouched by the chaos of the world outside.

I sat still for a few seconds longer, watching her. There was something oddly grounding about her presence, something that made me forget my own burdens. Yet, tonight I couldn't indulge in that comfort. Work awaited me, and I had to step away before the weight of responsibility grew heavier.

Carefully, I pushed the blanket aside and rose from the bed. Every movement was deliberate, measured-because the last thing I wanted was to disturb her. Isha had been through enough; she deserved her rest. I tiptoed to the door and opened it slowly, wincing at the faint creak of the hinge. My heart skipped a beat, fearing she might wake up. But no-her body remained still, her breaths steady, her face bathed in silver calmness.

Once outside, I pulled the door shut behind me and reached for my phone. My assistant needed to be informed. The screen glowed against the darkness as I dialed Rehan's number. It rang twice before he picked up, his voice thick with sleep.

"Who's calling me at this hour? Don't you people know there's a night made for rest?" he muttered, clearly half-asleep, clearly unaware.

"It's me," I said flatly.

There was a thud on the other end, as though he had dropped something in shock. A few muffled curses followed before his tone shifted instantly. "Yes, sir! I'm so sorry, sir. I didn't realize it was you."

I rolled my eyes though he couldn't see it. "Keep your nonsense aside and listen carefully. Tomorrow, I'll be taking my wife with me. I want all the preparations to be in order. Understood?"

There was a stunned pause, followed by the sound of him choking on his own breath. I could almost imagine his face-wide-eyed, jaw slack, completely caught off guard.

"W-wife? You're married? Sir, you didn't even invite us! That's cruel. I never thought you could be so-so stingy!"

His words scraped at my patience like sandpaper. My jaw tightened. "Do you plan to hang up, or should I make sure the one holding this phone is thrown out of the way?"

That did it. Within a heartbeat, the line went dead.

I exhaled sharply, pocketing my phone. Rehan and his careless mouth-sometimes I wondered why I hadn't replaced him yet. But for all his flaws, he got things done, and that was what mattered.

When I returned to the room, the sight that welcomed me softened the edge of my irritation. The blanket had slipped slightly off Isha's shoulder. Quietly, I walked over and adjusted it, covering her properly. For a brief moment, I lingered there, looking at her serene face. My hand itched to brush a strand of hair away from her cheek, but I restrained myself.

Finally, I lay down beside her again. The floor was out of the question-I had tried before, and sleep never came. Her presence, her warmth, her very scent-it pulled me in like gravity. As I closed my eyes, the soft jingle of her bangles and the faint tinkle of her anklet reached my ears, blending with the rhythm of her breathing.

Indeed, it was a perfect night. A perfect night with the perfect person.

Sleep didn't come to me immediately. I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling where the moonlight carved faint shapes against the plaster. The silence of the room was soothing, but inside my head, thoughts marched relentlessly. Isha shifted slightly beside me, her arm brushing against mine for the briefest second. Even that tiny contact was enough to steady me.

I turned my head to watch her again. There she was-my wife. The word still felt strange on my tongue, almost unbelievable. For so long, I had kept myself away from the idea of companionship. Work had been my world, my shield, my excuse. Yet here she was, sleeping in my bed, breathing softly like she belonged here all along.

Her face, half-lit by the moon, carried traces of innocence I didn't deserve. She didn't know the weight of my past, the darkness I carried. Or maybe she did, and she still chose to stay. That thought made my chest tighten. How was it that someone so delicate, so pure, could be mine?

The faint rustle of the curtains pulled me out of my thoughts. The night breeze wandered into the room, carrying with it the fragrance of jasmine from the garden outside. The scent mixed with the softer fragrance that clung to Isha-the faint perfume she wore earlier that evening, now mingling with the warmth of her skin. It was intoxicating.

I shut my eyes for a moment, trying to push away the flood of emotions. I had work tomorrow, responsibilities waiting, a life outside this room that never stopped demanding from me. But here, beside her, everything else blurred into insignificance.

Somewhere in the stillness, I heard the light chime of her anklet. She must have moved her foot slightly in her sleep. That small sound-a delicate, almost fragile tinkle-echoed in the silence, weaving itself into my memory. It reminded me of earlier in the evening when her laughter had filled the same room. How easily she transformed a space. With her, even silence wasn't empty; it was alive.

I adjusted my position, careful not to wake her. The blanket shifted as I moved, and I quickly ensured it stayed tucked around her. The thought of her feeling even the slightest chill unsettled me. She deserved warmth, comfort, protection-things I had vowed to provide even if I hadn't spoken those words aloud.

Time seemed to stretch, each minute slow, heavy, filled with thoughts I couldn't escape. I found myself remembering Rehan's shocked reaction over the phone. His words still stung a little. He wasn't wrong; I hadn't told anyone. There had been no grand ceremony, no crowd, no formal declarations. Just us. And maybe that was how I wanted it. Private. Sacred. Away from the eyes of the world that always judged, always demanded.

Isha shifted again, this time rolling slightly toward me. Her hand brushed against my chest unconsciously, and I froze, holding my breath. Her touch was feather-light, yet it sent a strange warmth spreading through me. I wanted to capture this moment, lock it away where nothing could touch it.

Leaning closer, I let my gaze linger on her face-her closed eyelids, the way her lashes rested like shadows, the faint curve of her lips. There was a peace in her expression, a serenity I envied. Did she dream of me? Or did she dream of a world where she was free from all the complications I dragged into her life?

I didn't know. What I did know was this: tonight, with her beside me, the world outside could wait. The calls, the work, the endless demands-they could all stay at bay for a few more hours.

The night deepened, and finally, my eyes grew heavy. Her scent, her warmth, the rhythmic music of her anklet and bangles-they wrapped around me like a lullaby. Slowly, almost reluctantly, I allowed sleep to claim me, knowing that tomorrow would bring with it a storm. But tonight

... tonight was ours.

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