Gauri's POV

I turned slightly toward him, peeking at him in the dim light. His eyes were closed, his breathing calm and rhythmic. His right hand was resting quietly across his forehead. Did he seriously fall asleep already? That was fast. Wow. Here I was, utterly unable to even think about sleeping, and he just drifted off like that.

Of course, it made sense. It wasn’t like he had left his childhood home to move into a stranger's house. This was his house, his room, and his very own bed where he slept every single night. The monumental life changes were only happening to me, which was exactly why sleep felt so impossible.

Shifting my gaze, I looked around the room. The space remained unchanged, still clad in the heavy wedding decor. I looked at the fresh flower garlands adorning our bed. He had painstakingly removed every single rose petal from the mattress before we lay down, but the heavy garlands were still draped all around us.

Then, a sudden, fleeting thought crossed my mind. If he hadn’t denied me, if he hadn't refused to consummate our marriage... what would we be doing right this very second? Maybe we would have been kissing.

A fierce blush crept up my cheeks at the scandalous thought. I couldn't help but wonder if he would have kissed me the way the male leads do in movies and fiction. How would his lips feel against mine?

My mind flashed back to a kissing scene I had secretly watched in a movie once when my parents weren't home. My father had always been incredibly strict with us. He never let us watch regular TV, let alone those kinds of romantic movies. He only gave me a smart phone for the very first time last year, and that too strictly for study purposes. Before that, I only ever had a basic keypad phone to carry when I left the house for my tuition classes. I had been a bit weak in physics, so my father had allowed me to take extra tuitions for it.

That smartphone was given to both me and my sister last year, and we had to share the single device between us. It came with a strict, absolute order from our father: never use it for anything that wasn't directly related to our studies. But despite the fear, I would still occasionally sneak a few glances at romantic scenes on YouTube Shorts.

Whenever those kissing scenes played on the screen, I would feel a wild swarm of butterflies in my stomach. Right afterward, I would immediately clear the browser history in a panic. I never had the guts to watch anything more than that. If my father or mother had ever discovered what I was looking at, they would have snatched the phone away instantly, leaving me without it even for my classes. And I could never compromise on my studies.

Technically, I had learned about sex in biology class. I understood the anatomical diagrams and memorized the factual information provided in the textbooks. But one day, driven by pure curiosity, I had searched the topic on Google. What I saw in those search results had completely blown my mind. It was terrifying, overwhelming, and simply too much for me to process.

Then, about four months ago, I started reading romance novels. I kept the reading app deeply hidden on my phone so no one would ever suspect a thing. Those soft, sweet stories—and the beautiful ways the male leads treated and loved their women—always gave me the sweetest butterflies. I used to lose myself in daydreams, imagining that my future husband would love me exactly like that.

When my marriage was fixed a month ago, I was finally given a brand-new phone of my own, and the old one was handed down completely to my sister. After the wedding was finalized, I read a few more novels, firmly believing I was about to be cherished by my husband.

But my reality wasn't playing out like those beautiful romance novels at all. Instead, it felt exactly like one of those angst novels where the husband refuses to touch his new wife because he is secretly in love with someone else. In that story, the male lead's ex had left him, and he remained trapped in her memories forever, completely ignoring and hating his innocent wife.

I looked back at Rana ji's shadowed silhouette, a cold dread seizing my heart. Does he love someone else too? Is that the real reason he didn't want to touch me tonight?

He had claimed it was because we were strangers, but he hadn't even attempted to talk to me. We could have used this time to try and get to know one another. But he didn't even try; his only conversation was a cold, practical discussion about how we were going to sleep. I pouted into the darkness. He clearly didn't want me.

Shouldn't a husband be trying to learn about his wife and tell her about himself? He wasn't anything like those sweet romantic heroes. I decided, right then and there, that I didn't like him at all.

Was I doomed to never get his love, just like that poor girl in the novel? She loved her husband fiercely, but he never loved her back.

"Sleep."

My eyes went wide, and my breath hitched at the sound of his voice cutting through the quiet room.

Was he not sleeping this entire time?! Did he see me staring at him? Oh my god, no! This was absolutely mortifying. What on earth was he going to think of me now?

"I was actually..." I stammered, frantically trying to scramble for an explanation, but before I could finish my sentence, he spoke up again.

"I know the surroundings are completely new for you," he said, his voice level and calm. "But try. Otherwise, you will keep twisting and turning the whole night."

"Ji," I whispered in reply.

I quickly turned my back to him, facing the opposite side of the bed, and squeezed my eyes shut.

Well done, Gauri. He definitely hadn't been sleeping, and he must have felt my intense gaze on him. But then I comforted myself with a small thought: there was only one soft, warm nightlight turned on in the entire room. He probably hadn't actually seen me staring at him in the dimness. He must have just felt my movements when I was tossing and turning restlessly.

Still, as I lay there completely frozen, I couldn't help but wonder how on earth people managed to fall asleep so quickly. In a completely new place, my brain just wouldn't shut down. That speed-sleeping was a superpower I desperately wished I had.

My mind kept wandering, spiraling from one worry to the next.

Oh my god, tomorrow is my First Rasoi. The thought hit me like a splash of ice water. I was completely dead. I had a horribly frustrating habit of totally messing up cooking when it mattered the most. Under normal circumstances, I could cook perfectly good food. But the moment it was a special occasion or a high-pressure situation, I always made a mistake. It happened almost every single time.

Please, God, I prayed silently, closing my eyes tighter. Please don't let me ruin things tomorrow. Please, please, please.

Okay, Gauri, you seriously need to force yourself to sleep right now. If you don't, you definitely won't have the focus to get through tomorrow. Maybe if I get a good night's rest, I'll be alert enough to not mess up the food.

Determined to drift off, I tried using a sleep hack I had read about online. I started blinking my eyes rapidly over and over again in the dark. My eyelids gradually grew heavy, exhaustion finally taking over, and somehow, I finally fell fast asleep.

The next morning, I opened my eyes and looked around the unfamiliar room, my mind still fuzzy with the heavy remnants of sleep. Then, I felt it—a firm, heavy hand wrapped securely around me.

Instantly, every single ounce of sleep faded from my eyes.

My heart leapt into my throat as I looked around and realized where I was. I had somehow crossed the invisible boundary of the bed and was now lying completely on Rana ji's side. Not only that, but I was tucked firmly into his arms.

I am dead. I am absolutely dead.

Frozen in his embrace, I looked up at his face. Up close, there was no denying he was a remarkably handsome man. I know people say we shouldn't focus on a person's outer beauty and should look at their behavior instead, but honestly, what’s the problem with appreciating someone if they are beautiful? It’s just praising something good that God made; it's not demeaning anyone. And he truly was exceptionally handsome.

Gauri, hold yourself together! I scolded myself internally. If he wakes up right now and sees us in this situation, he will definitely misinterpret my intentions and think otherwise of me.

Breathing as softly as possible, I carefully reached down and touched the large hand resting on my waist.

Oh my god, his hands are so rough.

A small, involuntary smile tugged at my lips. Shaking off the thought, I focused on the task at hand and gently, millimeter by millimeter, began to lift his arm away.

I am an absolute expert at sneaking around, by the way. Years of hiding things from my strict parents had finally paid off.

I carefully slipped out of his iron grip, slid out of the sheets, and got down from the bed. Standing safely on the floor, I turned back to look at him. My eyes caught his bare torso again, and a sudden wave of panic hit me.

Did I really just sleep like this with a shirtless man all night?  When and how did we even end up tangled together like that? Oh God.

I shook my head to clear the swirling thoughts. I needed to go and take a bath immediately.

Don't forget, Gauri, you have to make something for your First Rasoi today.

A sudden, rebellious thought popped into my head. Well, why is it that only I should have to cook? Why is it considered so incredibly important for a woman to cook right after marriage? 

I pouted, but deep down, I knew there was nothing I could do to change the rules. I walked over to my trolley bag and halted, staring down at my clothes.

Did I have to wear a saree today? Of course I did.

With a small sigh, I reached into the bag and pulled out the bright pink saree my Maa had specifically instructed me to wear for my first kitchen ceremony. Holding the silk in my hands, a sudden wave of nostalgia washed over me.

When I was just a little girl, I used to love wearing my Maa’s sarees. I would drape the heavy fabric around my small frame, pretend to be a strict school teacher, and beat the blankets and furniture, exactly the way our female teachers used to discipline us in school. It was so much fun.

I giggled softly at the memory, the morning tension finally easing a little. Clutching the pink saree tightly to my chest, I quietly hurried into the bathroom to get ready for the day ahead.