A soft knock on her door made her turn. "Come in."
The door opened to reveal not Saroj or Kritika, but Shaurya, carrying a large box.
"Special delivery for my favorite bhabhi," he announced, setting the box on her desk.
"I'm your only bhabhi."
"Semantics." He grinned. "This came from bhaiya—your brother. He sent it from Singapore."
Nimisha's throat tightened. Abhay, her older brother, was one of the few people from her previous life who still contacted her. Their father had essentially cut her off after the wedding, viewing her as a chess piece successfully deployed.
But Abhay... Abhay still cared.
"Thank you for bringing it up."
"No problem. What is it?"
"Probably books and snacks. He knows I have a weakness for imported chocolates."
"Speaking of which," Shaurya pulled up a chair, "you should open it. I want to see what big brother Shah sent."
Nimisha pulled the box closer and began working on the tape. It was sealed tightly, the edges resistant to her attempts to open it.
"Here, let me—" Shaurya reached over.
"I've got it." She tugged harder, her nails scraping uselessly against the packaging tape.
A huff from the doorway made them both look up.
Bruno stood there, his expression radiating pure canine exasperation.
"How did you get in here?" Nimisha asked. "I closed the door."
Bruno walked over and sat beside her desk, his eyes fixed on the stubborn box.
Are we really associated, human?his expression seemed to say.You can't even open a box?
"Don't start," Nimisha muttered, attacking the tape with renewed vigor.
Shaurya stared between them. "Are you... having a conversation with Bruno?"
"No."
"You are. You're literally arguing with a dog."
"I'm not arguing. I'm simply acknowledging his judgmental presence."
Bruno sighed dramatically, the sound so human-like that Shaurya laughed.
"This is the weirdest thing I've ever seen," he said. "And I've seen Abhay wrestle a guy twice his size while wearing a three-piece suit."
Nimisha finally got the box open, pulling out the contents. Books, as expected—the latest releases from her favorite romance authors. A package of Belgian chocolates. Japanese Kit-Kats in exotic flavors. And a box of her favorite biscuits from the bakery near their childhood home.
"Your brother has good taste," Shaurya observed, eyeing the chocolates.
"He knows what I like." She pulled out a particularly stubborn package of mochi, the plastic wrap sealed tight. "Unlike this packaging, which clearly hates me."
She twisted and pulled, her fingers slipping uselessly against the smooth plastic.
