The room glowed in shades of gold and red, the faint scent of roses and sandalwood hanging in the air. The flickering diya lights danced over the walls, giving the space a quiet intimacy like the world had decided to stop spinning just for them. Pakhi’s heart thudded in her chest as she stood before the mirror, the weight of the day, the rituals, and emotions finally settling in. Her fingers trembled slightly as she reached for her earrings.

Behind her, Ansh lay still for a moment, watching her. Every movement she made, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear, the soft fall of her dupatta down her shoulder, the gentle rise and fall of her breathing, felt like poetry to him. He had seen her countless times before, yet tonight, everything felt different. Maybe it was because tonight, she was truly his.