Fact two: He likes the night light on.
That one surprised me the most.
He had hesitated before admitting it, voice dropping into something almost shy. Not embarrassed exactly, just… careful.As if he were handing me something fragile and hoping I wouldn’t laugh.
“I don’t like the dark,” he’d whispered, barely audible.
The Dhruv Singhania, who negotiates with ministers, who walks into rooms like he owns the air inside them, afraid of the dark.
It had made something twist painfully inside my chest.
I’d wanted to tell him that it was okay. That fear doesn’t make you weak. That the dark can feel endless when you’ve spent too long alone in it. But the words had stuck somewhere between my heart and my throat, and all I’d managed was a nod and a soft, “It’s fine.”
So here we are. Night light on. Shadows softened. Reality muted.
I turn slightly on my side, careful not to disturb the careful space he’s left between us. He lies on his back, one arm tucked under his head, eyes open, staring at the ceiling like he’s tracing his own thoughts.
“Are you okay?” he asks quietly.
The question is gentle, unassuming, like he’s afraid of startling me.
“It’s been a day,” he continues after a beat. “And… I hope you’re doing okay, Sitara. I meant it when I said you’re not alone.”
Something warm settles in my chest. I turn to face him properly now, my hands tucked under my head as I study his profile. The night light casts soft shadows along his jaw, his lashes darker against his skin.
“Thank you,” I say honestly. “But I feel… fine.”
The word feels strange, like trying on a dress that fits better than expected.
“Maybe it’s because I’ve known you for a while,” I add, a small smile tugging at my lips, “and I kind of like the fact that you can’t harm me in any way. Becausemy brotherwould eat you alive.”
I chuckle softly, the sound easing some of the tightness in my chest.
He turns his head then, fully facing me, mirroring my position, brows drawing together slightly. “I don’t need threats from anyone to remember I need to respect my wife.”
His jaw clenches as he says it.
My wife.
He says it so casually. Like it’s already woven into him. Like it doesn’t carry the weight of five days that turned my life inside out.
I blink, suddenly overwhelmed by how much that phrase does to me. My wife. I swallow and look away for a second, staring at the faint glow of the night light.
“I still can’t process everything that’s happened,” I admit. “It’s been… five days.”
Onlyfivedays, and yet it feels like an entirely different lifetime.
“I mean—” I exhale a shaky laugh. “Going through all those rituals, sitting there pretending I was okay, and then ending up abandoned on the biggest day of my life…”
The word tastes bitter even now.
“And then you showing up like some knight in shining armor,” I add, my laugh sharper this time, almost brutal. “God, I must have looked so weak. So pathetic.”
I don’t look at him when I say it. I don’t want to see pity in his eyes.
But instead, I hear him smile.
“You are not a damsel in distress needing a knight in shining armor,princess,” he says gently. “And I don’t regret anything.”
