IYou were in the bedroom, occupied with your own things, as the evening settled in around 8 p.m. The soft hum of the night surrounded you when Siddharth stepped out of the bathroom and into your shared space. Your sweet, arranged husband, with a towel draped around his neck and another wrapped securely around his waist, carried the fresh scent of soap and warm water. His damp hair clung to his forehead, tiny droplets trickling down his temple, as the steam from his shower still lingered faintly in the air.

“Hey, jaanu… kya kar rahi ho aap?” he asked, his voice gentle yet playful, as he rubbed his wet hair with the towel. His dark eyes held a familiar warmth.