Vaibhav’s POV

He brought her back into the room, the door closing behind them with a quiet finality, as if the world outside had politely stepped away.

Gently, he settled her down on the cushioned chair in front of the dressing table. The warm yellow lights reflected off the mirror, framing her like a dream he hadn’t dared to dream too loudly.

Before she could say anything, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against her cheek.

Not hurried.
Not shy.
Just… his.

Her lips curved into a smile instantly, one that made something warm settle in his chest.

“Baitho,” he murmured, almost unconsciously slipping into care.

Slowly, carefully, he began helping her remove her jewellery—each bangle, each ornament treated like it held a story. His fingers brushed her skin now and then, hesitant yet familiar, as if they already knew their place.

Soon, she stood there in just her lehenga, eyes lowered, cheeks faintly pink.

He cleared his throat lightly.
“Bathroom… yahan hai,” he said, pointing gently. Then, almost sheepishly, “Aur… tumhara suitcase abhi unpack nahi hua hai.”

She looked at him, curious.

He walked to the cupboard, took out a neatly folded kurta and pajama, and handed them to her.
“Mere kapde… if you don’t mind.”

For a second, she froze.

Then she blushed. Properly.

Without meeting his eyes, she took them from his hands, mumbling, “I don’t mind.”

And disappeared into the bathroom.

The door clicked shut.

Vaibhav let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding.

He changed out of his sherwani, folded it carefully, and sat down on the edge of the bed, hands clasped together, heart doing things that no medical textbook had ever prepared him for.

When the bathroom door finally opened—

He looked up.

And forgot how to breathe.

She stood there, wrapped in his clothes, sleeves slightly long, fabric falling softly on her frame. Something about seeing her like that—so unguarded, so his—made his ears burn.

She smiled shyly.
“Achha nahi lag raha kya?” she asked, teasing.

He shook his head immediately.
“Nahi… matlab—” he paused, then smiled helplessly.
“Tum bohot… sundar lag rahi ho.”

Now it was her turn to chuckle.

She walked toward him, then suddenly stopped.
“Ek minute,” she said, holding up a finger.

Before he could ask, she turned around and returned with a small box, neatly wrapped in gift paper.

She placed it in his hands.

He raised an eyebrow.
“Yeh kya hai?”

“Pehle kholo,” she said, eyes glittering.

He opened it.

And gasped.

Inside lay the watch.

That watch.

The one he had spoken about casually weeks ago—the premium collection that hadn’t even been released yet.

His lips parted in disbelief as he lifted it gently, admiration written all over his face.

“Samriddhi…” he breathed.
“Yeh… yeh toh next month release hone wali thi. Tumne kaise—?”

She folded her arms, smirking.
“Maybe… ya maybe not,” she said lightly.
“Ho sakta hai jis company ne banayi ho… usi ki owner tumhare saamne khadi ho.”

He looked at her.

Once.

Twice.

“Tum—” he stopped, stunned.
“Tumne mujhe pehle kyun nahi bataya?”

She stepped closer.
“Mauka hi nahi mila,” she said softly.
“Aur jab tumne watches ke liye apna pyaar bataya… I wanted to tell you tonight.”

He stood up abruptly and pulled her into a tight hug.

“Thank you,” he whispered, voice low, sincere.

She laughed against his chest.
“Arre, ab toh main tumhari wife hoon,” she said, copying his earlier words.
“Tumhari har wish meri command hai.”

He chuckled, shaking his head.

Before he could respond, she rose on her toes and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek.

He froze.

Then smiled—slow, mischievous.

“Tum toh bohot ameer nikli,” he teased.

The room echoed with their laughter.

They fell quiet after that—just standing there, looking at each other, as if memorising this moment.

He didn’t know who leaned in first.

Maybe both of them did.

Their first kiss was soft.
Unhurried.
Full of promise.

When they finally parted, he rested his forehead against hers and placed another tender kiss there—his favourite place.

No words followed.

They lay down soon after, wrapped in each other’s arms, heartbeats syncing, the world outside fading into nothing.

Tonight wasn’t about perfection.

It was about belonging.

And  sleep finally claimed them.