We bathed quickly, the lingering scent of our morning intimacy still clinging to our skin. I chose a simple cotton saree, light and airy, but deliberately left my blouse a little loose, a small secret anticipation fluttering in my chest.

Vardaan, still a bit dazed, dressed in his crisp kurta-pajama. As we descended the stairs, the aroma of fresh parathas and chai wafted up from the dining room. My mother-in-law, a woman of graceful stature and kind eyes, smiled warmly as we entered.