The car slowed to a stop in front of a gated property lit by warm golden lamps. The house wasn't just a house. It was the kind of place people wrote articles about. Wide glass windows. Dark wooden beams. A balcony that wrapped around the second floor like soft arms. A garden full of trimmed hedges, pale stones, and a small fountain whispering in the night air.
Suha stepped out first. She wasn't easily impressed—she had grown up in mansions, been chauffeured in foreign cars, eaten at tables too long to speak across. But something about this place felt different. It was elegant but quiet. Luxurious but human.
Jay closed the car door behind him, hands shoved into his pockets.
"This is where we'll stay," he said.
Suha blinked. "This? Jay… this looks expensive."
"It is." He shrugged. "My parents insisted. Yours didn't argue either."
A strange wave ran through her chest. This wasn't a marriage built on love, but both families were treating it as something important. Something binding.
Jay pushed the gate open and walked in. Suha followed, her steps crunching lightly on the stone path. The front door opened with a soft click, revealing a foyer big enough to echo. Warm lights hung from the ceiling, casting a soft glow across marble floors and framed paintings.
Jay walked ahead, pointing things out like he was giving a tour.
"Living room. Kitchen. Dining room's over there. There's a home office downstairs and another upstairs. The garden wraps around the whole house."
Suha trailed behind, running her fingertips across the smooth railing of the staircase. Everything smelled new. Clean. Untouched.
When they reached the second floor, Jay paused in front of two doors.
"Your room is this one," he said, opening the left door.
Suha stepped inside. The room was large, elegant, and already arranged for her. Soft cream walls, a window overlooking the cherry blossom trees in the yard, a bed big enough to drown in. Even a small bookshelf. Someone had thought about her comfort. Someone had prepared this.
She turned back to Jay. "You arranged all this?"
"Mostly the staff," he said. "But I told them what to include."
Suha hesitated. "And… you're sleeping where?"
Jay opened the door across the hall. "There."
She frowned. "Why not the same room? We're married."
His shoulders tensed slightly. Not visibly, but enough that she noticed.
"I don't want you to feel trapped," he said. "Or expected to do anything. We didn't choose this marriage. I won't add more pressure than what you already have."
Suha held his gaze. He looked calm, maybe too calm, but his eyes carried something heavier. Something he didn't talk about.
"I wasn't expecting anything physical," she said softly. "I'm not… ready either."
Jay nodded once. A small exhale left him, almost relieved.
"Good," he said. "Then this arrangement works."
He started to walk away but stopped halfway down the hall.
"And Suha?" he added without turning around.
"You don't owe me anything. Not now, not ever."
Her breath caught for a second.
"Jay," she called gently.
He looked back over his shoulder.
"Thank you," she said.
A hint of softness flickered in his eyes—gone before she could confirm it.
"Get some rest," he said. "We start living this… whatever it is… tomorrow."
Then he disappeared into his room, closing the door behind him.
Suha stood there alone in the wide hallway of a house meant for two people who barely knew how to speak the truth to each other.
She wondered if this place would feel like home.
Or if it would echo with everything they weren't saying.