They arrived at the building, a towering fifteen-floor structure. Mohit pulled the car to a stop right in front of the gate. "Shikha, you can get out of the car here and wait," he said. Shikha stepped out, opening the back door to retrieve her bag.

"Wait here," Mohit instructed before driving off to the parking area.

Shikha stood by the entrance, taking in her surroundings. The building was impressive, part of a posh society. She tilted her head back, gazing up at its height. It was seven in the evening, and the lights cast a soft glow over the area. Women sat on benches in the park, gossiping, while children played nearby.

Suddenly, Shikha noticed Mohit walking back toward her. Her eyes followed him as he approached, and without a word, he took her bag, gesturing to their right.

"This way, Shikha," he said.

She nodded silently and followed him. They stood side by side, waiting for the elevator.

"Which floor?" Shikha asked, breaking the silence.

"The twelfth," Mohit replied.

Her eyebrows shot up. "The twelfth?"

Mohit chuckled. "What's wrong? Can't a building have twelve floors?"

"No, no, it's not that. I was just—" Shikha began, but Mohit interrupted her as the elevator doors opened.

"Hey, the elevator's here. Let's go," he said.

"Hm," she murmured, stepping in. Inside the elevator, a silence fell between them. They reached the twelfth floor, and as the doors opened, Mohit spoke again.

"Shikha, come this way," he instructed, leading her down the corridor.

She noticed four doors, each leading to different flats. Mohit fished out a set of keys from his pocket, placed her bag on the floor, and unlocked the door to their flat. Turning back to her, he pushed the door open.

Shikha stood just behind him, excitement bubbling inside her. This was the home where she would spend the rest of her life. She stepped inside, pleasantly surprised by how much cleaner it was than she had imagined. To the right of the hall, she saw a couch. Directly ahead, two doors faced the main entrance. To the left was an open kitchen with large windows draped in nice curtains. She felt a small smile tug at her lips, impressed by the neatness.

A sudden noise startled her, and she turned around to see Mohit standing there, setting her bag down.

"So, do you like the house?" Mohit asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

"Yeah, it's beautiful," she replied honestly.

"Really?" he asked, his tone almost disbelieving.

"Yes, I'm serious," Shikha said, nodding.

"Listen, I'll be back in half an hour, okay?" Mohit said abruptly, heading toward the door.

Shikha was about to ask where he was going but hesitated, the question dying on her lips. Mohit paused, almost expecting her to ask him where he was going. When she didn't, he left, closing the door behind him with a hint of disappointment.

As soon as he was gone, Shikha quickly kicked off her four-inch heels. "So, Mrs. Shikha Mohit Gupta, welcome to your marital life," she murmured to herself, walking further into the flat. She inspected every corner of the house with keen eyes.

Opening one of the doors, she discovered a bedroom. A clean double bed sat in the middle, flanked by two cupboards, and there was even a balcony. She opened the other door to find a mostly empty room, save for a few chairs and some boxes scattered about.

She then headed to the kitchen, pleased to find everything neatly in its place. Opening the fridge, she grabbed a chilled water bottle and went to the living area, sitting on the couch as she took a sip. A moment later, she felt something wet beneath her. Quickly jumping up, she exclaimed, "Eww!" making a face of disgust.

She looked down to see Mohit's wet underpants on the couch, the source of the dampness. She threw them away, muttering to herself, "What kind of man is this? Is this any place to leave something like that?"

Shikha walked back to the bedroom. As she entered, her phone slipped from her hand and fell to the floor. "Oh, shit!" she cursed, bending down to pick it up. As she did, something caught her eye: around eight to ten bottles of beer stashed under the bed. Shocked, she thought to herself, He drinks too? He never told me this. Mohit Gupta, there is still more to discover about you...

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. She quickly stood up and ran to answer it. Opening the door, she found Mohit standing there with two shopping bags in his hands.

"You're back," she said.

"Yes, look what I've brought," Mohit replied, stepping inside.

"What is it?" she asked, moving closer.

"Food, you must be hungry, right?" he said with a knowing smile.

Shikha nodded, and Mohit placed the bags on the kitchen counter. "So, did you see the whole house?" he asked, a bit nervous about her feedback.

"Hmm, it's clean," Shikha remarked.

Relieved, Mohit grinned and said, "Great! You go freshen up, and then we'll have dinner together."

Shikha did as he suggested, emerging from the room fifteen minutes later in a loose T-shirt and pajamas. Mohit glanced at her and smiled.

"Come on, hurry," he said, moving toward the kitchen. Shikha followed him, giving him a questioning look.

"What?" Mohit asked, pulling out plates from the cupboard.

Taking the plates from his hand and signaling for him to move aside so she could serve the food like a typical Indian wife, Shikha asked teasingly, "So, does this house always stay this clean, or is it just clean because I'm here?" She smiled mischievously.

Mohit swallowed nervously and said, "No, no, it's always this clean. What, do you think I can't keep the house clean?"

Shikha gave him a knowing smile. "Alright, alright, it's okay."

And with that, they sat down to have dinner together.