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Intro. He had agreed to the marriage the way he agreed to mergers—calmly, logically, with numbers instead of feelings. At thirty-two, love felt like a luxury he couldn’t afford. His family wanted stability, alliances, financial symmetry. She fit perfectly on paper—educated, well-spoken, from a respectable family. Twenty-three. Quiet. Too young to be trouble, they said. On the day she entered his house as his wife, he noticed only her politeness. The way she lowered her gaze. The way she never demanded space in his life already overflowing with deadlines and meetings. He told himself that was good. Convenient. For almost a year, they lived like parallel lines. Same roof. Same surname. Different worlds. They shared a bedroom only when his parents visited—a performance of togetherness. The rest of the time, he slept in his study, claiming late work calls. She never questioned him. Never complained. That silence felt like relief. He noticed things without meaning to. The way she studied late .

Aaryan Malhotra

@Girl_who_lovesto_read😍☺