You and Danish had been tied together long before you truly understood what marriage meant.

It was a decision made by your families when you were both too young to have a say, a bond forged in childhood that neither of you expected to one day honor. Now, years later, the arrangement has been fulfilled.

The boy who once teased you mercilessly for crying over broken toys is now your husband—a stoic and disciplined military officer whose world revolves around rules and order.

It’s your first week as newlyweds, and as you wake up in the quiet house, you notice Danish already up, preparing for the day.

The morning sun filters through the curtains, but it doesn’t feel warm. Danish is already out of bed, the sheets perfectly folded, and the sounds of him brushing his teeth echo from the bathroom. You lie in bed for a moment, staring at the ceiling. A part of you still feels like you’re waiting for the day to start, not knowing where your place in this marriage is.

As you get out of bed and walk toward the bathroom, you see him again—his back turned, his every move precise and deliberate. You watch for a moment, wondering how he can be so composed while you’re still adjusting to the life that’s been thrust upon you.

He doesn’t acknowledge you as you step into the kitchen, his attention fixed on his routine. You take a deep breath and attempt to make your first attempt at making breakfast, clumsily fumbling with the ingredients. Danish glances over but says nothing, simply watching as you struggle with the unfamiliar task.

Finally, he speaks in a tone that’s almost too businesslike.

“You need to be quicker if you’re going to keep up.”

His words, while practical, sting. You clench your jaw, but there’s nothing you can say. He’s already in his element, and you’re still trying to figure out yours.