Chapter 5 - The Morning After

Nandini's POV

I woke up in a strange bed.

For a split second, I forgot where I was. Then I blinked at the massive ceiling, noticed the expensive curtains, the silence... and remembered.

Oh right.

I'm married. 😳

And this isn't a dream.

I, Nandini Siddharth Roy, have officially survived one night of sharing a room with the nation's most intimidating businessman—who, by the way, sleeps like a Greek sculpture. No, seriously. He didn't snore, didn't move, just... lay there. Peacefully. Like some peaceful mafia boss.

Meanwhile, I spent the night doing the following:

Counting the ceiling panels. (63)

Practicing my future 'good morning' in my head.

And panicking quietly every time he turned in his sleep.

In case you're wondering, nothing happened. No scandalous stories here. The man kept to his side of the bed like there was an invisible "do not cross" line between us. (Respect ✨)

I slowly sat up, careful not to wake him.

But of course, the universe hates me.

Because my payal decided now was the perfect time to do a loud jingle concert.

Siddharth stirred.

I froze.

His eyes opened slowly, and let me tell you—he wakes up like he's already planning to buy three companies before breakfast. Calm. Cold. Focused. And mildly confused when he spotted me sitting like a statue at the edge of the bed.

"Good morning," I said, my voice two octaves higher than usual. Sounded more like a cartoon squirrel.

He blinked. "Morning."

That was it.

Then he stood up, grabbed his towel, and walked into the bathroom without another word.

...Okay then. Progress?

I stared at the closed bathroom door, debating if I should just lie back and pretend to still be asleep. But Mira Amma would probably come searching for us with her detective-level morning energy.

So I got up, picked out a simple saree from the massive closet (I had a mini panic attack because nothing looked like me), then awkwardly shuffled around until I heard the bathroom door click open.

And there he was. Hair damp. Shirt half-buttoned. Looking like every dramatic hero ever.

He glanced at me. "You can use the bathroom."

"Thank you," I whispered like he just handed me a kingdom.

Once inside, I exhaled dramatically into the mirror.

"Okay, Nandini. You didn't trip. You didn't say anything too embarrassing. And you're still married. One day survived."

I gave myself a thumbs-up in the mirror.

Marriage Level: Beginner.

Survival Rate: 100% (so far).

Awkwardness: Off the charts.

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