The second morning in the Kohli house arrived quietly. There were no wedding drums. No relatives calling her name. No photographers waiting outside the bedroom. No endless stream of people telling her to smile. Just the soft morning light slipping through the curtains and the unfamiliar silence of a house that was slowly beginning to feel less unfamiliar.

Anitha opened her eyes. For a few seconds, she remained still. Her mind was slow to catch up. Then she felt the weight of the mangalsutra around her neck. Her fingers moved instinctively toward it. The wedding. Virat. The Kohli house. Her new life. She slowly turned her head. The other side of the bed was empty. Again. She wasn't surprised anymore. Virat was probably already awake. He had always been disciplined about his routine, and she had quickly learned that marriage wasn't going to make him suddenly abandon the structure of his life.