It was already around 7:30 in the evening, and by now almost everyone had gone home. The rain had only gotten heavier, pouring endlessly from the dark sky as if Mumbai itself had decided to drown for the night. The entire government building looked deserted, with only a few lights still glowing in distant windows.

The security guard had already come to her twice.

Twice.

Both times asking politely when she planned to leave.

And both times Aarohi had somehow managed to invent an excuse on the spot because she knew the moment she stepped out and the building closed, she would officially become a homeless IAS officer wandering Mumbai without an address.

So she stayed. Inside the car. The same car she had been sitting in for hours now.

At this point, it felt less like a vehicle and more like a temporary refugee camp for people who forgot where they lived.

She had spent most of the evening staring at the navigation screen, trying to retrace the route she had taken in the morning. Every few minutes, she would convince herself she had finally figured it out.

Then she would reach that roundabout. That cursed roundabout. That evil circular monument of suffering.

Every single route somehow ended there. She would zoom in. Zoom out. Rotate the map. Trace roads with her finger.

And somehow still end up staring at the same roundabout like it was her long-lost relative. At this point, not only was she beginning to suspect the roundabout knew her personally.

Maybe it had adopted her. Maybe she lived there now.

She didn't dare leave the building premises either. Being lost inside a government compound sounded significantly safer than being lost somewhere on Mumbai roads during heavy rain with no phone, no contacts, no address, and absolutely no memory.

At least here, people knew she existed. Out, she might accidentally start a new life.

She had even asked her Chief Secretary earlier. The conversation had been embarrassing enough to haunt her for years.

Imagine being one of the country's brightest officers and having to admit that you couldn't find your own house. Even he had tried his best to help.

But unfortunately, searching for an address listed as simply "Mumbai" was about as useful as searching for one specific fish in the Arabian Sea.

So now she sat there. Hungry. Tired. Annoyed. And increasingly convinced that she should have listened to Sidharth in the morning.

Aarohi rested her forehead against the steering wheel and sighed dramatically. "I want to go home."

The statement sounded pathetic even to her own ears.

Then, suddenly, a bright flash of headlights appeared directly in front of her. The light was so strong that she immediately squeezed her eyes shut.

For one glorious second, she thought perhaps God himself had arrived to guide her home. Unfortunately, it was just a car.

The headlights switched off a moment later, leaving only the softer lights glowing through the rain. Aarohi blinked a few times before looking properly toward the vehicle parked nearby.

A door opened. A woman stepped out holding an umbrella.

She moved quickly through the rain and opened the rear door before handing the umbrella inside to someone. A man stepped out.

For a second, Aarohi couldn't see clearly through the rain. Then realization hit her. Sidharth.

The relief that crashed into her was so immediate that she nearly laughed. Or cried. Possibly both. Because finally, someone had arrived who actually knew where she lived. A truly revolutionary concept.

Sidharth took the umbrella and walked quickly toward her car through the rain. A few seconds later, he opened the passenger door and slid inside beside her without hesitation.

The umbrella remained outside. The woman immediately picked it back up while standing beside the car.

Rain continued pouring heavily around them. Sidharth rolled the window down slightly.

And that was when Aarohi finally got a proper look at the woman.

She was beautiful. Very beautiful.

The kind of beauty that looked effortless and expensive at the same time. She looked mature, elegant, and perfectly put together despite standing in the middle of a storm.

Her posture was graceful. Her smile was soft. Her face was pretty enough to annoy Aarohi instantly.

And somehow Aarohi disliked her immediately. Not because she knew her. Not because she had done anything wrong. Not because she had any actual reason.

Just because. The dislike arrived instantly. Fast. Efficient. Without requiring approval from any department.

The way that woman looked at Sidharth felt suspicious. Extremely suspicious.

The way she smiled at him. The way her eyes lowered before lifting again. The way she listened while he spoke. The way she stood there looking shy during the conversation.

Everything about it looked less like an employee speaking to her employer and more like a newly married wife trying very hard not to smile too much at her husband.

Aarohi narrowed her eyes. The woman nodded at something Sidharth said. Then smiled. Then lowered her gaze. Then looked back at him again.

Aarohi stared harder. Employee? Really? That was the explanation?

Because from where Aarohi was sitting, that woman looked one compliment away from blushing herself into another dimension.

Meanwhile, Sidharth continued speaking through the open window. Aarohi ignored every single word. She was far too busy glaring at the woman.

The woman smiled again. Aarohi disliked her even more. The woman nodded politely. Aarohi disliked her professionalism, too.

The woman looked at Sidharth one last time. Aarohi disliked that as well. Honestly, at this point, the poor woman could have sneezed, and Aarohi would have found it suspicious.

Finally, the woman stepped away, carrying the umbrella, and walked back toward the other car.

Aarohi scoffed loudly. Then immediately looked away. Very dramatically.

Because if she continued watching for another thirty seconds, she would probably invent an entire wedding ceremony, honeymoon, and family album inside her head.

Sidharth rolled the window back up. Aarohi folded her arms tightly across her chest and stared out the opposite window.

The rain continued pouring outside. Inside the car, Aarohi sat glaring at absolutely nothing. And somehow still looked deeply offended.

"Explain." Sidharth's voice came out rough and cold, cutting through the quiet tension inside the car.

Aarohi didn't even look at him properly at first. She kept her gaze fixed outside the window, watching the rain blur against the glass like it was personally more interesting than whatever explanation he was about to give.

Then she finally spoke, flat and irritated. "Why are you asking me? Ask her."

The words landed clean.

For a second, there was silence. Sidharth went still. Not visibly angry. Not surprised either. Just... still.

Then slowly, almost like something clicked in his head, a faint smirk appeared on his lips. The kind that didn't belong to confusion anymore, but to understanding something very specific.

He tilted his head slightly. "You don't like her, do you?"

Aarohi turned toward him immediately. Her expression was sharp. "Of course not," she said instantly.

Then, without even thinking twice, she added, "She looked like nothing. Just a makeup doll. Even her makeup was cakey. Who does makeup like that these days? And the fake accent—yuck."

The final word came out with so much judgment that even the rain outside probably paused for a second.

Sidharth let out a low chuckle. Not loud. Not mocking. Just amused.

He leaned back into the seat slowly, his posture relaxed in a way that only made him more irritatingly calm. His eyes half-lowered as he looked at her, like he was watching a very predictable argument unfold in slow motion.

Aarohi noticed the look and immediately regretted everything. "What?" she snapped, defensive now, a faint hint of embarrassment creeping in without permission.

Sidharth didn't answer right away. Instead, he studied her for a moment longer, like he was trying to decide how honest he wanted to be.

Then he leaned slightly forward. His voice dropped a little, quieter now, but sharper in meaning.

"You know why you don't like her... even though you met her for the first time?"

That question made Aarohi pause. Just for a fraction of a second. Because it was annoying how quickly he was right.

She hated that part the most. She didn't know the woman. Hadn't spoken to her properly. Had nothing concrete against her.

And still... the dislike had been instant.

Her jaw tightened slightly as she looked away. Sidharth watched her reaction carefully.

Then, almost casually, he continued. "Because once," he said, "you assumed I had an affair with her."

Aarohi's head snapped back toward him immediately. "What?" she asked sharply, disbelief mixed with irritation. Sidharth shrugged slightly, completely unbothered.

"My secretary," he added. "As she always kept flirting with me."

Aarohi narrowed her eyes. "You're lying," she said instantly.

Sidharth shook his head once. "No." Then, after a brief pause, he added more calmly, "Why would I?"

Aarohi didn't respond. Because that was the problem. He didn't sound like someone defending himself.

He sounded like someone stating a fact that had already happened and been filed away in memory.

Sidharth leaned back again, eyes half-lidded, voice now more controlled. "And before you ask why I didn't fire her," he said, "I like the way she works. Not her. So I kept her, as long as she keeps doing her job properly."

A small pause followed. Then his eyes shifted back to Aarohi. His expression changed slightly. Not softer. Not harsher. Just... more focused.

"Now explain," he said, voice tightening again. "Why are you here? And what are you doing here?"

Aarohi frowned immediately. And he didn't stop.

"And don't tell me you came here to check records and confirm whether I was lying," he added, tone laced with sarcasm now. "Because I would feel really bad hearing that your suspicion was wrong... and everything I said was actually right. Am I correct?"

The sarcasm hung between them like a challenge.

Aarohi looked away again. Not because she didn't have an answer. But because, for the first time in a while, she didn't like how easily he was reading her thoughts.

After a few seconds of silence, the only sound inside the car was the steady rhythm of rain hitting the roof and windows. The rain outside had only grown heavier, blurring the lights around the building and turning everything beyond the windshield into a hazy mess of reflections. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Aarohi finally spoke, her voice lower than before, less sharp and more uncertain.

"How did you find me?"

Sidharth exhaled softly, as if the question was more exhausting than unexpected. He adjusted his posture slightly in the seat, eyes briefly shifting toward the windshield before he answered. His expression carried the look of someone who had already spent an entire day dealing with unnecessary problems.

"Well," he said calmly, "when I came back, I thought you ran away."

He paused for a moment, then continued in the same controlled tone. Aarohi glanced at him briefly before looking away again.

"It took me almost the whole day to find you inside the mansion and the nearby jungle and beach. Then I called your parents about your arrival."

Aarohi turned her head slightly toward him at that, listening more carefully now. The fact that he had actually searched all those places made her feel slightly guilty, though she refused to admit it.

"I was almost going to the police," he added, "but then I remembered my car had gone for service. It was supposed to be back in the mansion before 7 AM."

Another short pause followed. The rain tapped steadily against the glass between them.

"And by evening, it still wasn't there."

He leaned back slightly, eyes narrowing as he retraced the sequence in his mind. His voice remained calm, but she could tell he had been genuinely worried.

"Then I checked your stuff. Your documents were missing. So I assumed you had taken it."

Aarohi frowned slightly. Looking back, it sounded painfully obvious.

Sidharth continued without looking at her.

"So I traced you through my car's GPS."

A brief silence followed his explanation. Aarohi stared down at her hands, suddenly feeling a little foolish.

Then, more sharply, he turned his head toward her.

"Now you tell me," he said, tone firm again, "why are you still here?"

Aarohi looked down immediately, fingers curling slightly against her own palm. She suddenly found the floor mat extremely interesting.

Her voice came out shorter this time.

"I didn't know the house address... or anything."

The words felt heavier than she expected. Saying them aloud somehow made the situation sound even more ridiculous.

Her eyes stung slightly, not from injury or pain—but from the sheer frustration of it all finally collapsing at once. She had spent hours trying to figure it out and had gotten absolutely nowhere.

"I didn't know anything," she repeated more quietly, almost to herself.

Sidharth didn't speak immediately. His first instinct was clearly to make fun of her.

For a second, he looked like he was about to make a sarcastic remark—something sharp, something dismissive, something that would normally cut through the tension.

But he stopped.

His gaze shifted slightly when he noticed her expression. The frustration. The confusion. The faint glassiness in her eyes, she was clearly trying to hide.

His posture changed subtly. The sarcasm disappeared before it could leave his mouth.

Instead of leaning back, he leaned slightly forward.

Without a word, he pulled out his handkerchief and extended it toward her. The gesture was so unexpected that Aarohi looked at it for a second before reacting.

"Here," he said, voice softer now. "It's okay. Hmm? I found you."

Aarohi hesitated for a fraction of a second before taking it. The simple reassurance somehow made her feel worse and better at the same time.

And just as the silence began to settle again—

Both of them flinched violently.

A sharp movement outside the car.

Sidharth's head snapped toward the window so fast it looked like instinct. Aarohi nearly dropped the handkerchief in surprise.

And then—

They saw him.

The security guard.

Standing right outside the car window.

Staring in.

Expression blank.

Face partially lit by the flickering reflections of rain and streetlight. Water dripped from the edge of his cap while flashes of distant lightning illuminated him every few seconds.

The combination of the glass, the angle, and the lighting made him look disturbingly still.

Almost like something out of a horror story that had decided to take a government job. Or a vampire who had somehow cleared a security recruitment exam.

For a full second, nobody moved.

Sidharth froze mid-breath, his calm completely replaced with sudden alertness. He genuinely looked like he had almost suffered a heart attack.

Aarohi blinked once.

Then twice.

Then slowly leaned slightly back in her seat.

"...Is he—" she began.

But didn't finish.

Because the guard shifted slightly.

And continued staring.

Still. Silent.

Unblinking.

Like he had absolutely nowhere else to be in life except here. His entire shift depended on making eye contact through car windows.

Sidharth muttered under his breath, barely audible.

"...why does he look like Dracula?"

Aarohi almost laughed despite herself. Honestly, with the rain in the background, the flashing lights on his face, and the way he had appeared out of nowhere, Dracula seemed like the more reasonable explanation.

Sidharth rolled the window down after a long second of silence, exhaling through his nose as he had just survived a very unnecessary jump scare. The rain immediately rushed in sideways, cold and sharp, splashing lightly onto the dashboard.

The guard leaned in slightly, still looking disturbingly calm.

"Madam, please leave, or else I will lock you," he said in the same flat, official tone as if he was reminding them of office timing rather than threatening mild imprisonment.

Sidharth blinked once, processed it, then replied quickly, "Yeah, yeah, we're leaving."

The guard nodded once and walked away without any further emotion, disappearing into the rain as if he had never been there at all.

Sidharth immediately rolled the window back up.

Aarohi slowly turned her head toward him.

"...That man just threatened to lock us in like we're unpaid electricity bills," she muttered.

Sidharth didn't even look at her properly. "Technically, we were overstaying like unpaid electricity bills."

That earned him a glare.

After a brief pause, Aarohi spoke again, slightly softer this time.

"Will you drive me home, please?"

The word please sounded almost unfamiliar in her voice, like it had been dusted off after a long time.

Sidharth glanced at her for a second, then nodded once.

"Seat change," he said simply.

Without further argument, he got out quickly, circling the car in the rain while trying not to get drenched too much. Aarohi moved over to the passenger seat, watching him through the windshield as he opened the driver's side door and slid in.

Within seconds, the engine came alive.

The car pulled out smoothly, tires cutting through wet roads as the city lights blurred past the windows in streaks of yellow and white.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

Only the sound of rain and the steady hum of the engine filled the space between them.

After about fifteen minutes, Sidharth broke the silence.

"Promise me something," he said, eyes still on the road.

Aarohi turned slightly toward him.

His tone was calm, but firm in a way that left no room for casual dismissal.

"From now on," he continued, "whenever you feel like going somewhere, you'll ask me or at least inform me. I'll send a driver or take you myself."

Aarohi looked away toward the window.

"...Okay," she said quietly after a moment, then nodded once.

The rain outside softened slightly as the city gave way to quieter roads.

Eventually, the car slowed.

Then stopped.

Aarohi, who had been resting with her eyes half-closed, opened them slowly.

And froze.

The surroundings were dark. Not normal dark. The kind of dark that felt... cut off. Barely any light. No familiar buildings. No movement.

Just a heavy silence and an unfamiliar structure ahead that looked less like a home and more like something sealed away from the world.

For a moment, her brain refused to process it properly. Her eyes shifted slowly toward Sidharth. He was still seated beside her. And he was smiling.

Not openly. Not warmly.

Just a faint, knowing smile—like he had been waiting for her to notice.

Aarohi's grip tightened slightly.

"...Where are we?" she asked slowly.

And Sidharth didn't answer immediately.

Aarohi leaned back into her seat dramatically, staring at the dark surroundings outside the windshield. Her eyes widened as she took in the concrete walls, dim lights, and shadows stretching across the floor.

Then, without warning, her expression completely changed.

"I knew it," she whispered.

Sidharth sighed immediately.

Whenever she started with I knew it, it was never followed by anything intelligent.

"I knew it!" she repeated louder this time, pointing an accusing finger at him. "You kidnapped me! You brought me to your secret basement! Now you'll chop me into pieces and feed me to that bitch leopard of yours who already hates me!"

By the end of the sentence, she was nearly in tears.

 "Mumma, somebody help me!" she cried dramatically while banging her palm against the window.

Sidharth sat there. Silent. Expressionless. Completely done with life.

His face carried the exhausted look of a man who had survived board meetings, government investigations, business rivals, and apparently now had to survive Aarohi's imagination.

She continued her emotional performance. "I knew your sweet behavior was fake! First therapy, then emotional manipulation, then basement murder. Classic criminal behavior!"

Sidharth slowly turned his head toward her. "What did you just say?" His voice was frighteningly flat.

Aarohi immediately pointed outside again. "I knew this was the basement where you kill peop—"

"Basement where we park cars," he interrupted.

She stopped. "This," he continued, speaking slowly like he was explaining basic mathematics to a particularly difficult child, "is a shopping mall."

Silence. "Not that scary mansion basement from your stories."

More silence. "Now get out."

Aarohi blinked. Once. Twice. Then she slowly looked outside again. This time properly. Her eyes traveled past the dark concrete wall.

Past the shadows. Past the pillars. And finally landed on the hundreds of parked cars stretching across the parking floor.

A long row. Then another row. Then another. People walking. Security cameras. Directional signs. Shopping carts.

A giant neon board saying PARKING LEVEL B2. Her dramatic crying session stopped instantly. As if someone had unplugged it.

"Oh." A few seconds passed. "...Oh." Another few seconds. "...Well."

Sidharth didn't say a word. Which somehow felt worse.

Aarohi cleared her throat awkwardly. "See," she said, trying to recover whatever dignity remained alive inside her, "in my defense, it was dark."

Sidharth continued staring. "Very dark." Still staring. "Extremely dark." Nothing. "Suspiciously dark."

The silence remained. Aarohi decided it was time to abandon the conversation entirely.

She quickly opened the door and got out of the car. The moment her feet touched the ground, she started walking ahead as if absolutely nothing embarrassing had happened in the last three minutes.

Behind her, Sidharth stepped out too. Then suddenly stopped moving.

Aarohi noticed the silence. Which was unusual. Sidharth always had something sarcastic ready.

She turned around. And found him frozen. His eyes were fixed on something. Something very specific. Something on the side of the car.

Aarohi's stomach dropped immediately. Because she already knew. Slowly. Painfully. Her eyes followed his gaze. And there it was.

The dent. A beautiful dent. A very noticeable dent. Along with several deep scratches cutting through the black paint.

The fresh paint from the servicing reflected the parking lights perfectly, making the damage look even more dramatic.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. A nervous chuckle escaped Aarohi's mouth. "Hehe..."

Sidharth looked at the dent. Then at her. Then at the dent again. Then at her again.

"You broke my car." His voice sounded strangely calm. Which was terrifying.

"The car that just came back from service." Still calm. Even more terrifying.

Aarohi immediately smiled. The kind of smile people gave right before running away from responsibility. "Hey!"

She clapped her hands together. "It happens."

Sidharth stared. "I'll fix it." More staring. "Eventually." Even more staring.

Aarohi pointed toward the mall entrance immediately. "Look!"

Sidharth didn't look. "Shopping mall!" Still didn't look. "Why are we here?" Still not looking. "Let's go!"

Before he could say another word, she had already started walking toward the entrance at an impressive speed.

The speed of someone who knew exactly what she had done. The speed at which someone avoids accountability. The speed of someone whose survival instincts had finally started functioning again.

Behind her, Sidharth remained standing beside his damaged car. For a long moment. Just staring at the scratches. Then he closed his eyes.

Took a deep breath. And silently reminded himself that murder was illegal.

Sidharth stood beside the car for a few more seconds, staring at the dent as if he could somehow reverse the damage through sheer disappointment.

The mark was deep enough to make him genuinely wonder how much strength Aarohi actually had in her hands. Most people scratch cars accidentally. Aarohi, apparently, attacked them with enough force to leave battle scars.

After a long sigh, he finally gave up on mourning the freshly serviced vehicle and followed her toward the elevator.

Aarohi pretended not to notice him catching up. The less they discussed the car, the better.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, and both stepped inside. Sidharth pressed the button for the second floor while Aarohi stood beside him with her arms crossed.

The silence between them wasn't exactly uncomfortable; it was more like both of them were waiting for the other to say something first.

Soon, the elevator began moving upward.

The polished steel walls reflected their images back at them. Aarohi caught sight of herself in the mirror and immediately looked away. Between the rain-soaked hair, exhausted face, and the fact that she had spent half the day getting lost in her own life, she looked far less intimidating than she preferred.

The doors opened a few moments later.

Aarohi stepped out and immediately slowed down.

The floor in front of her looked enormous.

Bright golden lights reflected off polished marble flooring. Luxury brands lined both sides of the corridor with massive glass displays showcasing clothes that probably cost more than most people's monthly salaries. Large decorative installations hung from the ceiling while soft music echoed throughout the entire mall.

People moved around carrying shopping bags, laughing, talking, and living perfectly normal lives.

Meanwhile, Aarohi was still trying to figure out whether her own husband was actually her husband.

Life felt unfair.

Her eyes instinctively scanned every corner of the place.

Every person.

Every security guard.

Every reflection in the mirrors.

Even after everything she had learned today, the suspicion inside her refused to disappear completely. She now had enough proof to know that much of what Sidharth had told her seemed to be true. Every person she had met had confirmed parts of his story. The records matched. The timeline matched. Even the Chief Secretary had practically called her an idiot for doubting certain things.

And yet...

The doubt always came back. Like an annoying mosquito that refused to die.

No matter how many times she convinced herself she was overthinking, another question would immediately appear inside her mind. What if everyone were wrong?

What if everyone had been fooled? What if she was missing something?

The thoughts kept circling endlessly. Finally, after several minutes of walking, she gave up trying to solve it herself.

"Where are we going?" she asked. Sidharth glanced over his shoulder while continuing to walk ahead.

"To buy you a new phone." Aarohi nodded slowly.

Then he added casually, "And a SIM card." She immediately narrowed her eyes.

The suspicion returned at full speed. A phone. A SIM card. Communication. Tracking.

Surveillance. Manipulation. Her brain was already creating conspiracy theories before he even finished the sentence.

She looked at him suspiciously. "So I can call people?"

Sidharth gave her a look. "Generally, that's what phones are for." Aarohi ignored the sarcasm.

After a few moments of serious thought, she spoke again. "Well, I don't know my ATM details yet."

Sidharth continued walking. "And?" 

"So I'll pay you back in installments."

He stopped walking. Not because he wanted to. Because his brain needed a second to process what she had just said.

Aarohi continued confidently. "You can make a payment schedule." Sidharth stared.

"Monthly." Still staring.

 "Or quarterly." 

More staring.

"Depending on inflation." At that point, he simply closed his eyes. The universe had clearly decided he deserved this.

"Aarohi." 

"Yes?"

"You don't need to pay me back." 

She immediately frowned, "Why?"

Because you are my wife. Because the money is practically yours. Because explaining finances to someone who doesn't remember her own address seemed impossible.

But Sidharth already knew where that conversation would go. It would become an argument. Then a debate. Then a legal discussion. Then, somehow, she would probably accuse him of money laundering.

So instead, he simply sighed. A long, defeated sigh.

"As you wish." Aarohi nodded proudly. 

Satisfied. Like she had just negotiated a major international trade agreement.

Meanwhile, Sidharth continued walking toward the phone store, silently accepting that arguing with her was often far more exhausting than simply letting her believe she had won.

The moment they entered the electronics store, bright white lights reflected from every direction. 

Large display tables stretched across the showroom, each filled with the newest phones, tablets, laptops, smartwatches, and accessories. 

Several customers wandered between the counters while sales representatives moved around with practiced smiles.

 Aarohi slowed her steps, her eyes immediately scanning the rows of devices. For a brief moment, even she forgot about the chaos of the day. Technology, at least, made sense. Unlike her life.

Sidharth walked beside her, shoving his hands into his pockets as if he wanted to finish this task as quickly as possible. 

"So," he began while pointing toward one section, "the latest iPhone 17 Pro series is over there. Since you're an iOS user, that might be easier for you. Though there are other options too. Samsung launched the 26 Ultra recently, and there are foldable models, flip models, pretty much everything. Just pick whatever you like."

Aarohi followed his gesture and stopped in front of the Apple display. She picked up the latest iPhone, turning it around in her hands while examining it carefully. A few seconds passed before her face twisted into visible disgust.

"Don't tell me I slipped into a coma and woke up in another century," she said while staring at the phone. "What happened to iPhone designs? Why does this thing look like somebody glued cameras on top of iPods? This is ugly."

Sidharth closed his eyes briefly while the salesman standing nearby immediately looked away, pretending he hadn't heard that brutally honest review of one of the most expensive phones in the store.

Aarohi continued examining the phone from every possible angle before placing it back down with complete disappointment. "Seriously," she muttered, shaking her head. "People are paying for this? Voluntarily?"

"Tell me quickly what you want," Sidharth said, already sounding tired. "We need to get home early. Ritvik is waiting."

At the mention of Ritvik, she paused. Her expression softened for barely a second before she looked back at the display. After comparing several models, she finally picked up another phone and nodded reluctantly.

"This silver one looks decent enough."

Sidharth immediately waved over a salesman. "Help her with whatever she needs."

The salesman smiled professionally and turned toward Aarohi. "Certainly, ma'am."

Aarohi looked at him and then at the displays around her. Suddenly, a dangerous idea entered her mind. 

Throughout the entire day, Sidharth had remained strangely calm. Every accusation, every suspicion, every argument—he had tolerated all of it without losing his temper. Naturally, this meant she needed to test him further. 

Not for any important reason, of course. Purely for research purposes.

"Fine," she said. "I want the 17 Pro Max. Highest storage variant." The salesman nodded immediately and began entering the details.

"With a two-year warranty." He tapped the screen without looking up.

Another nod. "Full protection plan." He didn't miss a beat.

"Original charger."

 "Certainly." He glanced at Sidharth briefly, then returned to the form.

"Magsafe charger too." 

"Yes, ma'am." He moved to the next field.

"Extra cable." 

"Yes." His fingers never stopped.

"Two covers." The salesman continued typing without hesitation. Sidharth leaned forward, eyebrows raised.

"No, make that three covers." His fingers kept moving across the screen. Aarohi smiled, pleased.

"Actually, four." At that point, Sidharth slowly turned his head toward her, a bemused look on his face.

Aarohi ignored him completely and continued listing items as if she were preparing for a technological apocalypse. "And those straps." The salesman typed.

"And those straps too." He paused only to confirm the quantity.

"And that transparent case." Typing. He tapped the price.

"And that blue one." Typing. He added it to the cart.

"And that black one." Typing. He mouthed the total silently.

"And give me another charger because chargers mysteriously disappear from existence." By now, even the salesman looked impressed by the sheer dedication behind her shopping list, a small smile betraying his professionalism.

Sidharth stared at her for several seconds, trying to understand what exactly was happening. He wasn't shocked, and he wasn't angry either. He was simply confused. This was the same woman who used to lecture people about unnecessary consumption. The same woman who reused notebooks until every page was filled. The same woman who spent fifteen minutes comparing prices before buying something as simple as a pen. Watching her casually collect accessories like a billionaire's spoiled daughter was genuinely unsettling.

"What exactly are you planning to do with all of this?" he finally asked.

Aarohi crossed her arms and looked at him innocently. "What happened?" she asked. "Pocket crying?"

The salesman immediately lowered his head and focused very hard on his tablet to hide the smile threatening to appear on his face.

For a moment, Sidharth simply stared at her. Aarohi watched him carefully in return. She had expected at least some reaction by now. Maybe a complaint. Maybe a lecture about wasting money. Maybe a visible wince after hearing the total amount. At the very least, she expected him to look mildly offended.

Instead, he calmly reached into his wallet and pulled out a black card.

The movement was so smooth and effortless that it almost felt deliberate. He held the card between two fingers before placing it on the counter with complete confidence, as if he had already figured out exactly what game she was trying to play. There was no hesitation in his expression, no concern about the bill, and certainly no sign of financial pain.

The salesman practically straightened his posture the moment he saw the card. His professional smile somehow became even more professional as he accepted it with both hands.

Meanwhile, Aarohi stood there completely stunned.

Not because of the black card itself. She had seen wealthy people before. She knew Sidharth was rich. Ridiculously rich, actually. The card wasn't what surprised her.

What shocked her was the complete lack of reaction.

He hadn't complained.

He hadn't argued.

He hadn't questioned the absurd number of accessories she had added.

He hadn't even looked mildly annoyed.

The entire purpose of her experiment had been to see where his limit was, and somehow she had failed to find one.

Sidharth glanced at the salesman and said casually, "Add whatever else she wants."

Then he turned toward Aarohi, his expression remaining perfectly calm, almost amused now that he understood what she had been trying to do.

"If you're done trying to bankrupt me, let me know."

Aarohi narrowed her eyes immediately. She looked at him, then at the card, then back at him again. Somehow, the situation had completely backfired. She had entered the store fully convinced she was setting a trap for him, but now she felt like she was the one who had walked straight into it.

For the first time that evening, she had absolutely no comeback ready. The realization irritated her far more than it should have. Because somehow, without raising his voice, without arguing, and without even reacting the way she wanted him to, Sidharth had managed to win a battle she hadn't even realized she was fighting until she lost it.

But another thought slowly crept into Aarohi's mind as she stood there watching Sidharth calmly complete the payment without even flinching. It wasn't fear exactly this time, but suspicion mixed with her already overactive imagination. 

She narrowed her eyes slightly, tilting her head as she studied him like a case file she couldn't fully close. "What if," she thought very seriously, "he is going to slice me and sell my organs,s and I'm just standing here arguing about phone covers?" 

The thought felt completely logical to her in that moment, especially because in her head, the villains were always this calm and rich and annoyingly composed.

Sidharth, completely unaware of this new internal accusation being built against him, finished the billing process while Aarohi stood a few steps away, still mentally debating whether she was in a shopping mall or a pre-organ-harvesting consultation. 

After some time, the purchase was packed and handed over, and they finally left the store. 

The mall noise faded slightly as they walked through the corridor again, and by the time they reached the parking area, the earlier chaos of Aarohi's imagination had not reduced; it had actually multiplied. 

She kept glancing sideways at him as he might suddenly open a secret door and reveal a laboratory hidden behind the escalator.

Time skip happened naturally as they finally reached home after the drive. 

The house felt quieter than usual, the kind of silence that only comes after a long, exhausting day where too many things have happened, and nobody has the energy left to comment on them anymore. 

Aarohi entered first and immediately collapsed onto the couch as if her bones had decided to retire early. 

She placed the new phone beside her and stared at it for a few seconds before slowly trying to set it up. To her own surprise, her fingers moved almost instinctively, as if some muscle memory had been buried deep inside her brain waiting for emergencies like this.

After a few attempts and frustrated sighs, something clicked in her mind, and she successfully entered what she didn't even remember remembering—her old password. The phone unlocked instantly, and she stared at the screen for a moment like it had betrayed her by working correctly. 

Within minutes, her old data transferred into the new device, and she leaned back slightly, finally letting out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. The wallpaper loaded next, and her expression shifted slightly when she saw it.

 It was a soft sunset image, but layered faintly over it was a shadowed picture of her and Sidharth holding a baby in their arms, standing in front of the same sunset.

 It wasn't very clear, almost like a memory blurred by time itself, but it was there enough to make her pause.

She hesitated for a moment before opening her gallery, scrolling slowly through the images. Her expression softened unintentionally as she saw album after album filled with Ritvik's pictures.

 Small moments, random clicks, and everyday expressions, all carefully stored as they mattered more than anything else.

 For the first time that day, her suspicion didn't feel as loud as before. It was still there, sitting quietly at the back of her mind, but it didn't have the same sharp edge anymore. 

Today had been enough proof that she didn't remember things she should have, and the idea of constantly accusing others suddenly felt heavier than it did earlier.

Aarohi sighed deeply and leaned back on the couch, staring at the ceiling with a tired expression. Her ego, however, was still very much alive and well, sitting stubbornly inside her like an uninvited guest refusing to leave. 

She already knew she would not go to Sidharth and say sorry. 

That was simply not in her emotional budget for the day. She could accept confusion, she could accept memory loss, she could even accept expensive phone bills, but apologizing felt like a different level of difficulty entirely.

At that exact moment, Sidharth came downstairs after his bath, carrying Ritvik in his arms. 

Both of them looked freshly cleaned. Ritvik wrapped comfortably and looked sleepy but content, resting against him with the ease of a child who trusted his entire world without question. Sidharth's gaze shifted toward Aarohi as he noticed her sitting quietly on the couch. 

His voice came out calm, almost casual, as if nothing dramatic had happened in the entire day at all.

"You okay?" he asked simply.

And for once, Aarohi didn't immediately argue, accuse, or imagine a crime scene. She just stayed there looking at him, then at Ritvik, then back at the phone on the couch beside her, as if trying to decide which version of reality she was supposed to believe right now.