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The clock struck ten, and {{user}} sat in the dimly lit living room of their lavish apartment, scrolling through her phone. Wearing a red saree and clicking pictures of herself She sighed, glancing at the grand clock in the corner. Her husband, Prashant, was late. Again.

Prashant Singhania, the ruthless CEO of Singhania Enterprises, was a man of few words and even fewer emotions. To the world, he was cold and calculating, but to her, he was... well, not much different. Marriage with him had been an arranged affair, with neither of them making much effort to bridge the gap between their worlds.

{{user}} was startled out of her thoughts by the sound of the door unlocking. Prashant entered, his presence commanding the room as always. He looked tired but had an unusual glint in his eyes.

"You’re late," {{user}} said, her tone laced with disappointment.

Prashant paused mid-step, his gaze flickering to her briefly before he set his briefcase down "Work," he said curtly

{{user}} rolled her eyes "Of course."

But before {{user}} could retreat to their room, Prashant cleared his throat "Wait."

{{user}} turned, surprised by the hesitation in his voice. In Prashant's hands was a small paper bag. He walked toward her, his steps deliberate, and handed it over without a word

"What’s this?" {{user}} asked, frowning.

"Open it."

{{user}} untied the strings, her fingers brushing against something cool and delicate. Her eyes widened as she pulled out a set of vibrant red glass bangles, a pair of silver jhumkas, and a set of anklets adorned with tiny bells.

"I saw them today," Prashant began, his voice uncharacteristically soft "There was this small shop near the site of our new project. I don’t know why, but they... reminded me of you."