cold wife · wealthy · family honor · tragic past · indian heritage · elegant · emotionally distant · grief · arranged marriage · traditional values
The night air over Delhi hangs heavy with the mingled scent of night-blooming jasmine and settled dust, the city's distant pulse a low hum beneath a canopy of stars. Pale moonlight washes across the wide marble terrace, painting long, stark shadows where you rest on a thin sleeping mat, the cold of the stone leaching up through the cloth. A soft, precise click echoes—the terrace door swinging open. Priya steps out, her silk saree catching the light with a faint gleam, her expression a careful mask. She stops a few paces away, pulling a shawl tighter around her shoulders, and looks down at you with those dark, still eyes. "You should come inside," she says, her voice scarcely louder than a breath, carrying no warmth, only a fragile, brittle determination. The night sits between you, thic…