The next morning arrived softer than the previous one. Pale sunlight filtered through the glass wall, spreading gently across the bedroom floor. Meher stirred first, blinking slowly as she adjusted to the unfamiliar ceiling above her. For a brief second she forgot where she was. Then the skyline beyond the glass reminded her.

London.

Beside her, Kabir was already awake. “Get ready,” he said calmly, checking the time on his phone. “We will leave in an hour.”

“For the hospital?” she asked, sitting up and pushing her hair back.

“Yes.” There was no drama in his tone. Just simple certainty.

By the time they were ready, Meher stood near the entrance adjusting the edge of her coat nervously. Kabir picked up the car keys and led the way to the elevator. The ride down to the parking area was quiet but not heavy.

When they reached the basement parking lot, Kabir walked ahead and unlocked the car. As always, without saying a word, he moved to the passenger side and opened the door for her.

Meher paused for a fraction of a second, then smiled before sitting inside. These silent gestures of his never failed to touch her. He never made a show of it. He simply did it as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Once seated, she looked around.

The car interior was sleek, luxurious, entirely different from the vehicles she had seen back in Kabir's home in India.

It smelled faintly of leather and something expensive she could not name. The dashboard gleamed softly, the digital panels lighting up in a calm blue glow.

She ran her fingers lightly over the edge of the seat. “This is beautiful,” she murmured, almost to herself.

Kabir walked around and took the driver’s seat. “It is just a car,” he replied simply as he started the engine.

“It is not just a car,” she corrected quietly, still observing everything. “It feels like a spaceship.” and even sang a hook line of a song, “Lightaan Lagdiyan Taare, Chare Siran Nu Ne Paare Jaandi Udd Di Ferrari Lage Spaceship. (The lights look like stars, their heads are aching [of those watching on the sidelines], our Ferrari flying by looks like a spaceship.)” 

He almost smiled but controlled it. “It's not a Ferrari.”

“Haa jo bhi hai, ki fark painda? Main ganna gauna si te gaa ta. (Whatever it is, what difference does it make? I wanted to sing, so I sang,)” Meher said in her usual playful, bantering tone.

Kabir shook his head slightly but didn't say anything further.

As they drove out, the city unfolded before them. Meher turned toward the window instantly. Her eyes moved constantly, absorbing everything.

“Do people actually follow traffic rules here?” she asked seriously.

“Yes.”

“No unnecessary honking?”

“No.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “Interesting.”

A red double decker bus passed by and she leaned slightly forward. “Can we sit in that one day?”

“Yes.”

“Is the river we saw yesterday nearby?”

“Yes.”

“Do you ever get lost here?”

“No.”

She turned toward him dramatically. “Do you ever give full answers?”

He glanced at her briefly. “Ask full questions.”

She stared at him for a second, then laughed softly and returned to looking outside.

The drive continued like that. Her questions were scattered and curious. His answers are calm and measured. Yet beneath the simplicity, there was an ease growing quietly between them.

When they finally reached the hospital, Meher’s chatter slowed.

The building stood tall and imposing, glass and steel reflecting the grey sky. It was one of the largest medical institutions in the city. The automatic sliding glass doors opened silently as they approached.

The moment she stepped inside, a strange anxiousness gripped her.

The lobby was vast. White floors. Polished walls. Doctors moving briskly. Nurses pushing trolleys. Screens flashing patient information. The air smelled faintly of antiseptic.

Without realizing it, she reached for Kabir’s hand and stopped walking.

He turned immediately. “What happened?”

Her fingers tightened slightly around his. “Kabir,” she said softly, her voice lower than usual. “This hospital is so huge. How will I work here?”

There was no teasing in her eyes now. Only uncertainty.

Kabir looked at her steadily. “You need to trust yourself, your work and your capability, Meher. That is all.”

She listened silently.

“It does not matter whether the place is small or big,” he continued in the same calm tone. “If you know what you are doing, the size of the building changes nothing. Have confidence in yourself. You can do anything.”

The words were simple. Direct. Not poetic. Yet they landed deeply.

She nodded slowly, a faint smile returning to her lips. “Okay.”

They walked to the reception.

“We are here to meet Mrs Grewal,” Kabir informed the receptionist.

The receptionist immediately recognized him. “Of course, sir. Please come this way.”

They were guided down a corridor into a large cabin. Meher glanced at the nameplate on the desk.

Dr Mihika Grewal

Head Surgeon

Her eyes widened slightly.

They sat down quietly. The cabin was spacious, lined with certificates and awards. Meher’s nervousness returned as silence settled around them.

A few minutes later the door opened.

A graceful woman in her late forties walked in, holding a file. A nurse followed behind her. She was giving instructions while scanning the file.

“Make sure the patient’s vitals are monitored every two hours,” she said firmly. “And inform the family that we will review the reports by evening.”

Then her eyes lifted and the moment she saw Kabir, her expression softened instantly.

“Oh,” she said warmly. “Kabir.” She dismissed the nurse with a nod. “I will look at this file later.”

Kabir stood up immediately. Without hesitation, he bent down and touched her feet respectfully. “Namaste, Mrs Grewal.”

“Bless you,” Dr Mihika said happily, placing her hand on his head. “And congratulations. I heard the news. Finally.”

Meher watched everything carefully. It was clear from the way he stood, from the way he greeted her, that Kabir respected this woman deeply.

Without waiting for instructions, Meher stepped forward as well and bent to touch her feet.

But before she could, Dr Mihika gently stopped her and pulled her into a warm embrace. “No, daughters do not touch feet,” she said affectionately while cupping her face. “Bless you. Congratulations on your marriage.”

Meher smiled shyly. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“She is beautiful.” Mihika said to Kabir.

Kabir cleared his throat slightly. “Mrs Grewal, she wants to join the hospital. That is why I brought her.”

Dr Mihika looked at Meher thoughtfully and then shook her head slightly, her tone becoming a little firm. “I have personally reviewed everything with HR. But she cannot join right now.”

Both of them looked at her in surprise.

Then she broke into a knowing smile. “How many days has it been since the wedding? How long have you both even been here? If I make her join immediately, Ruhanika will murder me.”

Meher’s cheeks turned pink.

“Come next week,” Dr Mihika continued, winking playfully. “Enjoy your honeymoon period first.”

Kabir froze for a second, clearly uncomfortable, glancing around as if someone else might have heard that word.

Meher lowered her eyes, trying not to smile too widely.

Before Dr Mihika could tease further, a nurse knocked urgently. “Ma’am, the patient’s family is asking for you.”

“I am coming,” she replied.

She turned back to them. “Next Monday. You can start then,” she told Meher warmly. Then she looked at Kabir with mock seriousness. “Do not worry. I will not assign night shifts to your navi vohti (new bride).”

Kabir did not know whether to respond or disappear.

Dr Mihika laughed softly and walked out with the nurse, leaving the cabin door slightly ajar.

For a few seconds, there was complete silence between Kabir and Meher.

Then Meher finally looked at him.

“So,” she said carefully, a faint teasing glint returning to her eyes.

“Not a word.” Kabir gave her a warning glare and walked out. She followed him while giggling.

When they stepped out of the hospital, the air felt lighter than before. The grey sky had softened and a faint warmth lingered in the breeze. Instead of heading straight to the parking area, Kabir gestured toward a small café across the street.

“We will have breakfast,” he said simply.

It was a quaint roadside restaurant with large glass windows, potted plants lined neatly outside, and soft yellow lights glowing within. The place looked aesthetic and cozy, the kind of café people photographed before eating.

Meher’s eyes lit up instantly. The sparkle of exploration returned in full force. “This is so cute,” she whispered as they walked in.

They found a table near the window. She looked at the menu for a few seconds before pushing it toward him. “You order.”

“You can see the menu,” he replied.

“I can see the words,” she corrected. “I do not know what any of them mean. You order. If it is bad, I will blame you.”

Kabir nodded calmly and placed the order.

While they waited, Meher continued looking around, observing other customers, the barista, the neatly arranged pastry display.

“Do people come here daily?” she asked.

“Some do.”

“Do you?”

“Sometimes.”

“With whom?”

“Clients.”

“Friends?”

“No.”

She rested her chin on her palm dramatically. “You need friends.”

“I have work,” he replied.

She sighed. “That is not a personality.”

He ignored that.

The food arrived. Fresh croissants, scrambled eggs, toast, and coffee. Meher tasted everything cautiously at first, then nodded approvingly. “Okay, you did not disappoint.”

“I rarely do,” he replied dryly.

After breakfast, they walked back to the car.

The moment she sat inside, her tone changed slightly. “You will have to go to the office now, right?”

The question was casual, but the softness in her voice did not escape him. There was a faint shadow of that earlier loneliness hidden there.

He looked straight ahead as he fastened his seatbelt. “No. I will work from home.”

That was all he said but it was enough.

A visible smile spread across her face as she turned toward the window again, relief settling in her expression. She would not be alone in that massive penthouse.

After a few minutes of silence, she spoke again. “Is Dr Grewal related to your family?”

“No,” he replied. “There is no blood relation.”

“Then?”

“Some relationships become stronger than blood,” he said calmly. “Mrs Grewal and my boss Mrs Rathore are best friends. They treat us like their own children. Not just employees.”

Meher nodded thoughtfully.

“As family is important in Punjab,” he continued, “here these few people are like that.”

She immediately turned toward him sincerely. “I will always respect them. Truly. I will never give you a reason to feel embarrassed.”

He glanced at her briefly and nodded.

They reached home soon after.

The rest of the afternoon slipped into a routine. Kabir locked himself in the study again, immersed in files and calls.

Mary arrived and Meher spent time talking to her, asking about nearby markets and weather changes, keeping herself from feeling isolated.

At lunch, Kabir stepped out of the study. Before sitting down, he told Mary, “Do not prepare dinner tonight.”

Mary nodded knowingly.

When they began eating, Meher looked at him curiously. “Are we going somewhere?”

“Yes,” he replied. “Mrs Rathore has invited us for dinner.”

Her eyes widened instantly. “What should I wear?”

“Anything,” he answered absentmindedly, focused on his plate.

She froze mid bite. “Anything?”

“Yes.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Fine. Since it is just dinner, I will wear my night suit. Pajama and shirt.”

Kabir slowly lifted his gaze from the plate and looked at her cautiously. He was not foolish enough to miss the sarcasm and warning behind her words.

“Wear Indian,” he said calmly, giving her the exact answer she wanted.

A wide grin spread across her face. “Your wisdom arrives a little late, but that is fine. You will learn slowly.”

She resumed eating happily.

After lunch he returned to work, and Meher immediately video called Mehek.

“What should I wear?” she asked anxiously. “He said Indian, but I do not want to look overdressed. And I cannot look too basic either.”

Mehek examined options through the camera, finally choosing a deep colored suit. “This one. Leave your hair open. Minimal makeup. Small bindi. Trust me. Mere bhra te kehr dhaa dena wa tu. (I swear, you’ll bring a storm down on my brother,)” Mehek winked teasingly.

She rolled her eyes and mumbled under her breath, "Us Robotic Jhotte te koi asar ni hona beshak mein  Urvashi kyu na ban k aja. (That robotic buffalo won’t be affected even if I show up looking like Urvashi.”

“What did you say?” Mehek asked, since she hadn’t heard properly.

“Nothing. Thanks,” Meher replied quickly.

After that, she asked about everyone at home, exchanged a few more updates, and then hung up the phone.

By evening, she stood in the bedroom getting ready.

The suit was a rich deep maroon with subtle golden embroidery along the neckline and sleeves. The fabric flowed gracefully, elegant without being loud. Against her dark chooda, the color looked even more radiant. The red bangles enhanced the richness of the outfit beautifully.

She wore delicate jhumkas that brushed lightly against her neck. Her long thick hair was left open, cascading over her shoulders in soft waves. A tiny maroon bindi rested perfectly between her brows. The mangalsutra that she wore for the first time lay against her collarbone, simple yet striking. A faint line of sindoor adorned the parting of her hair.

She rarely wore makeup, and even now it was barely noticeable. Just enough to enhance, not overpower.

Kabir walked into the room to change and stopped.

Meher stood before the mirror adjusting her jhumka. In the reflection he saw everything at once. The mehndi on her hands had faded slightly but still glowed softly. The chooda. The sindoor. The bindi. The mangalsutra.

For the first time, something settled inside him with clarity.

She is my wife.

This entire adornment. This transformation. It existed because of him.

He had seen her in suits before their marriage. Simple, effortless, casual. But this was different. This was the quiet dignity of a married woman. A softness layered with belonging.

It hit him unexpectedly.

Meher noticed his reflection in the mirror. Their eyes met through the glass.

For a second, neither moved.

Then Kabir quickly looked away, clearing his throat lightly. He walked toward the wardrobe to change, his expression composed again.

But something had shifted and for the first time, he felt it clearly.

They left the house just as the evening light began to soften into gold. Kabir drove quietly at first, the city lights flickering alive one by one.

As soon as the car merged onto the main road, he spoke without looking at her. “Please do not bring up politics in front of ma’am.”

Meher turned toward him immediately. “Yes, yes. I remember. Don't worry.”

He gave a small nod, satisfied.

As the city center slowly began to thin out and wider roads replaced crowded streets, Meher looked around curiously. The buildings grew larger, more spaced out.

“Are we going far?” she asked. “Like another city or something?”

“No,” he replied. “The bigger houses are outside the main city.”

She nodded thoughtfully and continued observing the surroundings. Soon, the area changed completely. Large gates. Expansive lawns. Elegant mansions standing proudly behind manicured hedges.

Her eyes widened.

They turned into a broad driveway through an ornate iron gate. The mansion ahead stood tall and graceful, warm lights glowing through large windows. It looked grand but welcoming.

Kabir parked near the entrance. Meher stepped out slowly, her gaze traveling from the carved pillars to the wide balcony above.

“Come,” Kabir’s voice gently pulled her out of her thoughts and she walked beside him toward the main door.

The bell rang, and within seconds a maid opened the door, greeting them respectfully. They stepped inside.

Before they could take more than a few steps, a familiar voice echoed from the staircase.

“Mumma, they are here. Bua-nani, they are here.”

Rudransh came running down the stairs in excitement. He stopped in front of them, folding his hands dramatically. “Namaste, bhabhi ji and welcome. You remember me, right?”

Meher smiled politely. “Of course, bhaiya.”

From one side of the hallway, an elderly woman in a graceful saree approached. From the other side, a woman around Dr Mihika’s age ended a phone call while walking toward them.

Kabir gave Meher a slight nod and stepped toward the elderly lady first. He bent down to touch her feet respectfully. Meher followed him instantly, bending alongside him.

The lady placed her hands on their heads warmly. “Stay blessed,” she said affectionately.

Kabir straightened. “This is Niharika ma’am. Mrs Rathore’s bua.”

“Namaste, ma’am,” Meher greeted immediately with folded hands.

Niharika smiled fondly, cupping Meher’s face before pulling her into a gentle hug. “Bless you, child.”

By then Ruhanika had reached them.

Kabir bent to touch her feet as well. She placed her hand over his head. “Stay always happy.”

He turned slightly. “This is Mrs Rathore.”

Meher folded her hands respectfully. “Namaste, ma’am.”

She moved slightly forward as if to bend for blessings, but before she could, Ruhanika pulled her into a tight embrace.

“Daughters don’t touch feet,” she said warmly. “Stay blessed. Always be happy. You look very pretty, and this suit really suits you. Always keep smiling like this and stay happy.”

Then she held Meher by the hand and guided her toward the living area. “I have been so eager to meet you. I wanted to see who is the girl who finally forced our workaholic to get married.”

Meher blushed and instinctively glanced at Kabir who was already looking at her.

Ruhanika seated her beside her on the couch. “Your name is beautiful. Who named you?”

“My father,” Meher replied softly.

Rudransh instantly jumped in. “Fathers always give the best names. My dad named me too.”

For a fraction of a second, Ruhanika’s smile faltered. A faint sadness flickered in her eyes. Meher noticed it. But just as quickly, Ruhanika composed herself.

“Well,” she said lightly, “CM Sahab has quite an exaggerated fan following anyway. I am sure you'll know that, Meher.”

Meher remembered Kabir’s warning immediately. “Umm, ma’am, I am sorry but I am not very interested in politics.”

Ruhanika clapped softly in delight. “Oh wow.” She turned toward Kabir. “Kabir, I am already in love with your wife.” She kissed Meher’s head affectionately.

Kabir allowed himself a small smile and Rudransh shot him an impressed look as if silently appreciating the training he had provided to his wife.

The conversation flowed easily after that. Ruhanika asked about Meher’s family. “Who all are at home, beta?”

“My mother, father, younger brother and a sister,” Meher replied.

“You must miss them,” Ruhanika said gently.

Meher just gave a small smile instead of answering.

“You will adjust slowly,” Ruhanika reassured her. “Arranged marriages are not that bad when the boy is sensible like Kabir. I’m saying this from experience.” She winked teasingly. “I do not praise people easily, even if they are my own useless children, but Kabir deserves it.”

Kabir shifted slightly in embarrassment.

“You have not joined the hospital yet?” Ruhanika asked.

“No, ma’am. Dr Grewal told me to start next Monday.”

“Very good. Work sincerely. You will not face any problems there, but even if you do, tell me or Mihika without hesitation. If our daughter is working in our hospital, she should never feel troubled.”

Meher nodded gratefully.

Niharika then turned toward Kabir. “How is everyone at home, beta?”

“They are all well, ma’am,” he replied respectfully.

Ruhanika sighed dramatically. “This useless man got married so quickly that he did not invite us. Forget invitations, he did not even show us proper photographs.”

Kabir quickly shook his head. “No, ma’am, it was all very sudden. Dadi finalized everything quickly.”

“It’s all just excuses,” Ruhanika said teasingly while rolling her eyes.

He pulled out his phone and began showing wedding and reception pictures.

As each photograph appeared on the screen, Ruhanika and Niharika showered compliments on Meher. Meher turned redder with every passing second. Rudransh sat nearby, giving Kabir teasing looks while Kabir responded with silent glares.

Suddenly Ruhanika asked, “So tell me, did this idiot take you anywhere sightseeing?”

Meher paused for a fraction of a second, then smiled softly. “Yes, ma’am. He took me to the river and a few famous places nearby.”

She mentioned a couple of well known spots she had heard about.

Kabir felt something tighten inside his chest.

She was covering for him. She had not seen anything yet.

Guilt crept up quietly. She had left her entire world behind and he had buried himself in the excuses of work.

He felt like the biggest aashole.

Soon they moved to the dining table for dinner. The atmosphere remained lively. Ruhanika and Niharika asked light hearted questions and Meher answered politely, smiling through her nervousness.

In the middle of dinner, the main door opened abruptly and a breathless voice echoed.

“Ruhi, is there Belgian chocolate ice cream? I forgot to buy it. If I go home empty handed, Ika will eat me alive.”

A man hurried in and walked straight toward the kitchen.

Ruhanika laughed. “Yes, it is in the refrigerator.”

After grabbing the ice cream, he stepped back toward the dining area and noticed Kabir. “Congratulations, man. I heard you got married.”

Kabir began to rise to greet him, but he waved him down. “No, no. Do not get up while eating. We will talk properly later. I am in a hurry.”

He looked at Meher briefly. “So she is the lucky girl. God bless you, child.” And just as quickly as he came, he rushed out.

Meher blinked in confusion.

Ruhanika laughed. “See this side of your boss well, Meher. In the hospital he will look strict and arrogant like he eats only cement. At home he runs for ice cream.”

Kabir leaned slightly toward her and said quietly, “That was Dr Prikshit Grewal.”

“Mihika’s husband,” Ruhanika added. “He was scared of his wife’s reaction, so he ran. Otherwise he would have sat.”

Meher nodded, smiling slightly.

Ruhanika leaned back playfully. “A husband should always have a little fear of his wife. You must keep him under control.”

Meher blinked.

“These modern children are smart,” Ruhanika continued seriously. “But if you ever need pro tips, come to me or Mihika. The best trick always works.”

Kabir narrowed his eyes cautiously.

“If he troubles you too much,” she said very seriously, “quietly get him waxed once.”

Meher’s eyes widened.

Kabir nearly choked.

Niharika and Rudransh burst into laughter.

Meher blinked slowly. “What?”

“Trust me this always worked.” Ruhanika said assuringly.

“Did you… actually do that?” Meher asked cautiously.

“Twice,” Ruhanika replied proudly. “After that, my husband never dared to cross my words.”

Kabir stared in disbelief while the others continued laughing.

Niharika shook her head fondly. “Enough, Ruhi. Why are you scaring the poor boy?”

Ruhanika waved dismissively. “Why not, mumma? She should not feel alone just because she is away from home. We are here for her.”

And as Meher looked around the table at the warmth, laughter and easy affection, something inside her eased quietly.

Perhaps she was not as alone in this new world as she had feared.

Dinner stretched longer than either of them realized. Between laughter, teasing and affectionate scolding, time slipped by unnoticed. Eventually plates were cleared and the evening began to wind down.

When Kabir stood to leave, Niharika rose first. She pulled Meher into a warm embrace, holding her a second longer than necessary. “Come again soon, beta. Anytime you feel like it. Never think that just because you are away from your home, you are alone.”

Ruhanika joined them and hugged Meher just as tightly. “This house is open for you. Do not wait for invitations. If you feel bored, upset or simply miss the noise, just come.”

Meher nodded, smiling softly. Her eyes blinked a little too often as she tried to hold back the sudden rush of emotion. She did not want anyone to notice the moisture gathering there.

Kabir noticed. He did not say anything, but he saw the way she swallowed before stepping back.

Just as they were about to walk toward the door, Ruhanika stopped Meher and handed her two elegant gift bags. “These are for you.”

Meher instantly shook her head. “No, ma’am. There was no need for this.”

She looked instinctively toward Kabir, silently asking for support.

Kabir opened his mouth to intervene, but Ruhanika cut him off sharply. “You be quiet. I did not give anything to you. I am giving it to my daughter in law. You have no right to interfere.”

Rudransh snorted softly in amusement while Kabir pressed his lips together.

Ruhanika hugged Meher again and lowered her voice slightly. “One of these is actually for both of you,” she said with a hint of mischief in her tone.

Meher blinked in confusion but nodded.

Soon they stepped out, exchanged final goodbyes and drove away.

The car ride back was filled almost entirely by Meher’s voice.

“Your boss is so nice,” she said enthusiastically. “And funny. The environment at your workplace must be so good. Everyone seems so warm. Then why are you always so serious and grumpy?”

Kabir shot her a look.

She ignored it and continued, “Honestly, if this is how your bosses are at home, I cannot imagine how dramatic things must be in the office. It must be fun.”

“Come to the office someday,” he muttered under his breath. “Your delusion will disappear.”

She grinned, clearly unconvinced.

By the time they reached home, the earlier emotional heaviness had faded into a comfortable warmth.

Inside the bedroom, Meher immediately placed the gift bags on the bed and changed into something comfortable. Kabir also got changed and sat down at the edge of the bed, watching her curiously.

“Let us see what ma’am gave,” Meher said softly as she opened the first bag and froze.

Inside lay an exquisite diamond set, delicate yet dazzling. The necklace shimmered even under the soft bedroom light, matching earrings nestled carefully beside it.

“Kabir,” she whispered, staring at it. “This is too much.”

He leaned back slightly, resting his hands behind him. “Mrs Rathore gave it with affection. Accept it.”

Meher ran her fingers lightly over the velvet box, still overwhelmed, whispering, “This is so pretty.”

Then she picked up the second bag. “She said one thing is for both of us,” she murmured happily. “Let’s see what that is.”

Kabir straightened slightly.

Meher reached inside and pulled out a neatly wrapped package. She opened it casually, still half distracted by the diamond set.

The moment the contents were revealed, both of them went completely still.

Meher’s eyes widened.

Kabir blinked once, then twice, as if unsure he had seen correctly.Neither of them could utter a single word out of shock, nor did they have the courage to lift their eyes and look at each other, both burning with embarrassment.