This was all they were.
He needed to remember that.
CHAPTER 2
Nimisha woke up alone.
Again.
The space beside her was cold, the pillow undented. Samarth had left sometime in the night and hadn't returned.
She lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, her body still aching pleasantly from his touch. The bruises on her hips would fade in a few days. The ache in her chest would not.
Don't romanticize what we are.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then threw back the covers and got out of bed. No point in wallowing. She had a routine to maintain.
Shower. Dress. Breakfast. Write. Gym. Smile. Exist.
In that order.
By the time she emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a simple cotton salwar kameez, the bed had already been made by the staff. All evidence of the night erased as efficiently as Samarth had erased his presence.
She found the list where she'd left it—tucked in the drawer of her nightstand, written in Samarth's precise handwriting on Ranawat letterhead.
Rules for Mrs. Samarth Ranawat:
Do not question my business or activities
Do not embarrass the family in public
Attend all required family functions and social events
Do not enter my office without permission
Do not expect emotional intimacy
Make yourself available when I need you
Do not interfere with Kritika's presence in this house
She'd memorized it within the first week of their marriage, but sometimes she took it out to remind herself. This was the contract. These were the terms.
She'd agreed to them by marrying him.
Tucking the list away, she went downstairs.
The breakfast room was empty except for the staff preparing the morning meal. Nimisha took her usual seat and waited.
"Good morning, madam. Tea?" Radha asked.
"Yes, please. And some toast."
"The butter is finished, madam. Would you like jam?"
"That's fine."
Radha nodded and disappeared into the kitchen.
