As soon as Shikha entered the bedroom, Mohit dashed to the kitchen. He grabbed a tumbler, rushed to the main door to retrieve the milk, and placed it on the gas flame to boil. Afterward, he hurried back to the bedroom, where he found Shikha blow-drying her hair. He opened the wardrobe, pulled out a towel, and rushed to the bathroom.

Half an hour later, Mohit emerged, surprised to find the bedroom empty. Quickly getting dressed, he made his way to the living area and spotted Shikha in the kitchen, making breakfast. She looked beautiful, with minimal makeup highlighting her big kohl-rimmed eyes. Her pink, glossy lips complemented her black, silky, long, straight hair, styled in a side puff with a ponytail. Her perfectly filed nails were painted silver, and she wore a silver-plated watch that complemented her hand.

Mohit caught himself staring and snapped back to reality, focusing on putting on his shoes. It was already 8 AM. Shikha came out of the kitchen with two plates—one with bread and butter, the other with sliced fruits. She placed them on the table and returned to the kitchen to fetch more items. Coming back with a jug of juice and two glasses, she noticed Mohit searching for something. About to ask him what it was, she remembered something and smiled mischievously.

"What are you looking for, Mohit?" she asked playfully.

"Nothing, just..." Mohit mumbled, trailing off.

Shikha grinned, "I know what you're looking for."

Mohit, slightly embarrassed, asked, "You know?"

"Hmm, I know," she said with a teasing smile. "And I threw them away."

"What?" Mohit's face flushed with anger. "You threw my underpa—" He stopped, realizing where the conversation was going.

Shikha raised an eyebrow, "Does anyone dry their wet clothes on the couch, especially undergarments? I even sat on them! Dry them on the balcony next time."

Mohit, still irritated, retorted, "Oh, so if someone dries them inside, you'll just throw them away? Are you mad or what?"

Shikha sighed, "You're not getting it. It's unhygienic and makes the house smell. Mohit, there are things you need to change if you want to live with me."

Mohit, now fuming, turned his face away, muttering sarcastically, "Okay, teacher..."

Shikha, taken aback by his reaction, tried to keep her composure. Meanwhile, Mohit thought to himself, "Who does she think she is? Not even a day has passed, and she's already trying to control everything. She threw away my clothes. I didn't say anything because she has an interview today..."

Suddenly, he heard the door opening. He turned around to see Shikha entering the room.

"Look, Mohit, I'm sorry for what I did," she said softly. "I just threw them behind the couch, not outside. But you have to understand, it's not good."

Then she noticed his wet towel lying on the bed.

"Look, your towel is wet and on the bed," she said, moving towards it.

Mohit taunted, "Oh, so you're going to throw that away too?"

Shikha sighed again, "Listen, Mohit, I'm not in the mood to fight. I have an interview. Let's just have breakfast."

"I'm not hungry," Mohit muttered.

"Fine, stay hungry," Shikha snapped, picking up her handbag and leaving the flat.

Mohit was taken aback by her reaction. She hurried down the building and hailed an auto to her office.

As she rode away, she thought to herself, "Who does he think he is? Does he think I'm dependent on him? I'm leaving Delhi for him, and he has the audacity to give me attitude?"

Meanwhile, Mohit, feeling worried and guilty, drove quickly to the office.

At 9:15 AM, Mohit entered the office. He filled in his attendance and approached the receptionist, Meeta.

"Hi, Meeta," Mohit greeted. "Where are the management interviews happening?"

"On the first floor, sir," Meeta replied.

Mohit rushed to the first floor and saw Shikha sitting on a couch, waiting for her turn. Her face was a mix of sadness, anger, and disturbance. She was trying hard to stay composed for the interview but didn't notice him.

Suddenly, Mohit felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around and saw his best friend, Piyush Patel.

"Hey, bro," Mohit said.

Piyush grinned, "Who are you looking at? Or should I say, who are you staring at? That girl?"

Mohit rolled his eyes, "Hey, she's my wife."

Piyush was taken aback, "Your wife? How did she end up with you?"

Mohit snapped, "Stop joking around, Piyush. I'm already in a bad mood."

Piyush chuckled, "What happened? Did you have a fight with your wife?"

Mohit nodded, "Yeah, this morning. She was trying to act like my teacher."

Piyush laughed, "Well, from the looks of her, she seems like that type."

"What do you mean?" Mohit asked, curious.

"I mean, look at her," Piyush explained. "She looks so organized, sophisticated, and graceful. She's an HR manager, after all."

Mohit sighed, "But—"

Piyush interrupted, "You're new to this whole marriage thing. Besides, women like to control things. Just look at mine; she starts nagging from the moment she wakes up: do this, do that, eat this, eat that... You'll get used to it."

Mohit sighed again, "Are you trying to help me or scare me?"

Piyush just laughed and dragged Mohit to their cabin. But Mohit couldn't stop thinking about Shikha. He was worried about her.

Meanwhile, Shikha went to the interview hall, gave her interview with confidence, and came out feeling very happy. She wanted to share her joy with someone, but no one was around. She sat in the reception area, on the verge of tears. She quickly recomposed herself, took out her tablet, and booked her return ticket to Delhi for tonight. The flight was at 2:00 AM.

Mohit entered the reception area and saw her. She saw him too, but she was so angry that she couldn't hold back her tears any longer. Mohit felt terrible seeing her like this. He walked up to her, gently took her hand, and led her to his cabin. She was surprised by his action.

"Let go of my hand," Shikha said once inside the cabin.

Mohit let go and asked, "How did the interview go?" He offered her a tissue.

She refused, "What do you care?"

Mohit gently held her shoulders and made her sit down. He sat across from her and said, "Look, I'm sorry. I overreacted. I shouldn't have done that." He wiped her tears with his fingers.

Shikha nodded, "Hmm."

Mohit continued, "Shikha, I know we're both uncomfortable with each other, for obvious reasons. But this isn't going to work if we keep fighting. We have to live together. I know it will take time, but everything will be fine."

Shikha sighed, "I'm sorry too, Mohit. I shouldn't have done what I did."

Mohit looked at her intently, noticing her red face from crying.

"Shikha," he said softly.

"Yes, Mohit?" she replied.

"I booked my flight for tonight at 2 AM. I have to join the office tomorrow," Shikha informed him.

Mohit was shocked, "But you were supposed to leave the day after tomorrow."

"I know," she said. "But I booked it out of anger. I also informed the office that I'm coming tomorrow."

Mohit, trying to hide his disappointment, said, "Well, there's nothing we can do about it now. By the way, how was your interview?"

"It went really well," Shikha replied, smiling.

"Listen, Shikha," Mohit said, hesitating slightly. "I want to say something. The person who interviewed you is a good friend of mine. If you want, I can talk to him for you. Only if you want."

Shikha looked at him seriously, "No, Mohit. If you really knew me, you'd never suggest such a thing. I told you last night—I don't want to be dependent on anyone. Whatever I achieve, it will be through my hard work and luck. Please, don't do this."

Mohit smiled, feeling proud of her. "Okay, I won't say anything."

Shikha stood up to leave, and Mohit asked, "Where are you going?"

"Home," she replied.

"Come on, I'll drop you," Mohit offered.

"No, I'll manage. I got here on my own," Shikha said.

Mohit insisted, "You got here on your own, but now you'll go with me. By the way, did you eat anything?"

"No," she said, making a puppy face. "And you?"

Mohit shook his head, "No. Let's have lunch together. Wait for me outside; I'll be out in five minutes."

Shikha nodded and went outside, waiting for him. As she stood there, she suddenly spotted someone she knew very well—it was her childhood friend.

Her joy was palpable as she called out, "Samarth! Samarth!" She waved her hand enthusiastically.

"Shikha!" Samarth replied with a warm smile, rushing towards her. He enveloped her in a tight hug.

Shikha, pulling away from the embrace, said, "Oh God, what are you doing here?"

"I work here," Samarth responded. "And you?"

"I'll be working here too," Shikha laughed. "Actually, my husband works here as well. I applied for the position of HR Manager. Let's see if I get it."

Samarth's eyes widened in surprise. "Wait, you moved from Delhi to be here?"

Shikha explained, "I gave an interview for the HR Manager position. My husband works here, so I applied as well."

"Really? You got married? You cut me off at the wedding!" Samarth teased.

Shikha chuckled, "You will never change. By the way, why didn't you come to my wedding?"

Samarth sighed. "I was actually going to come, but then an idiot at the office had his wedding too, and I had to cover for him."

Shikha's face lit up with happiness. "I'm so excited and hope I get selected here."

Samarth smirked, "Well, I won't be able to stop that."

As Shikha scanned the room, she spotted Mohit standing nearby. "Look, my husband is here too!" She called out, "Mohit!" and signaled him to come over.

Samarth's face went pale with shock. "Mohit is your husband?"

"Yes," Shikha said, puzzled. "Oh, you must know him."

Mohit approached and stood next to Shikha. "By the way, you both must know each other, but let me introduce you properly. Samarth, this is my husband," she said playfully.

Mohit and Samarth exchanged strained smiles as Mohit put his arm around Shikha's shoulders, giving her a gentle squeeze as if to mark his territory. Shikha was slightly taken aback but remained composed.

Mohit glanced at Shikha and said, "Shall we go?"

Shikha nodded. "Okay, bye Samarth. I'm leaving today. I'll catch up with you when I come back."

Mohit's irritation was barely masked by his forced smile. They turned and started to leave. As they walked away, Mohit shot a dark look back at Samarth.

Once inside the car, Shikha was all smiles. Mohit started driving as she asked, "Are you both friends?"

"No," Mohit replied curtly, his irritation evident.

Shikha continued, "He's a very good friend of mine. We were classmates and family friends. And Mohit..."

Mohit's irritation was rising. "What?"

Shikha continued, "He even proposed to me in school."

Mohit's anger flared but he managed to keep his composure. He stopped the car in front of a mobile restaurant and asked, "What would you like to have?"

Shikha replied, "A chicken sandwich and a Coke."

Mohit felt like punching the car but restrained himself. He went to the counter, got the food, and brought it back to the car. They began eating, but Shikha continued recounting stories about Samarth, further annoying Mohit.

Finally, Mohit snapped, "Can you just stop talking about him? You talk too much."

"What?" Shikha gave him a puzzled look. "Is there something you're hiding from me?"

Mohit sighed. "Look, Shikha, I'm not going to tell you what to do like a typical husband. But you're my top priority right now."

Shikha was confused. "I don't understand what you're saying."

Mohit explained, "Samarth is a very close friend of yours, but he's my biggest rival. We can't stand each other. I'm not asking you to cut off ties with him, but please, don't be around him when I'm around. You understand what I'm saying, right?"

Shikha nodded, unsure how to respond. They finished their meal in silence. Mohit drove back to their building, handed Shikha the keys, and returned to the office.

Shikha entered their flat, her mind swirling with confusion. Meanwhile, Mohit stormed into Samarth's office.

"What the hell, Mohit? Learn some manners! How dare you barge into someone's office like this?"

"Just like you barged into my life without asking anything," Mohit shot back.

"I didn't know Shikha was your wife," Samarth said, his tone strained.

"Don't you dare mention her name again," Mohit warned.

Samarth sighed. "Look, she's my childhood friend and now your wife. I'll try to stay away from her. But don't think I'm doing this for you—I'm doing it for her. I don't want to cause any trouble in her married life."

Without another word, Mohit left the room.

___