The next morning, Poornima stood before the mirror, draping her saree neatly and pinning her dupatta just right. Her books were already stacked in her bag. Today wasn’t just another day—it was her first time going to college with Veeresh after marriage.

When she stepped out, Veeresh was already waiting near the jeep, looking effortlessly sharp in a navy-blue formal shirt and black trousers, his usual professor’s air surrounding him. He didn’t speak much during the ride, but his presence was steady, protective.

---

At the College

Once they reached, Poornima slipped into her classroom while Veeresh headed to his lecture hall. From where she sat, she could faintly hear his voice in the corridor—deep, commanding, firm.

When she passed his class later, she paused for just a second.

There he was—her husband—standing tall at the podium, every word he spoke carrying weight. His tone demanded attention, and even the most restless students sat upright, listening carefully. She’d always known he was serious, but today she saw the full extent of his authority.

It was strange… and a little awe-inspiring.

---

Hall Ticket & Returning Home

After her lectures, Poornima collected her hall ticket for the upcoming exams. Holding it felt like holding a promise—one she was determined to keep.

They returned home together. Veeresh, as usual, went straight upstairs to freshen up, while Poornima headed to the kitchen.

---

In the Kitchen

Her mother-in-law, a gentle and warm woman, smiled at her.

“Come, beta. Let’s get dinner ready.”

Poornima rolled up her sleeves and began chopping vegetables, listening as her maa spoke softly.

“In our family, there is a tradition—the new bahu eats from her husband’s plate after he finishes. It’s a blessing for a long and happy married life.”

Poornima nodded respectfully. “Okay, maa.”

Soon, the dining table was set. Veeresh came down, his hair still damp from the shower, the faint scent of sandalwood clinging to him. Poornima served everyone quietly, making sure every plate was filled before sitting aside with the other women.

---

The Tradition

When the men finished their meal, the women gathered in the kitchen. Poornima’s turn came last—she took Veeresh’s plate and, just as tradition required, began eating from it. Something about it felt strangely intimate, a quiet sharing of life.

Afterward, she warmed a glass of milk and took it upstairs.

Veeresh accepted it without a word, drinking in slow sips before setting it down. His eyes met hers.

“Start studying,” he said in that firm tone she was beginning to know well. “I know you’ll balance both this house and your education.”

Poornima smiled softly. “Yes.”

They lay down afterward. As she closed her eyes, she felt him shift closer—not speaking, not demanding—just there. And for the first time since their sudden wedding, she felt the fragile beginnings of comfort between them.