The morning light streamed gently into the penthouse, soft and warm.

Poornima stirred awake, rubbing her eyes. “Veeresh… it’s morning,” she whispered softly, trying to sit up.

He murmured from beside her, his voice still husky from sleep, “Sleep.”

She shook her head lightly. “Office work…”

He reached out, pressing a finger gently against her lips. “Sleep,” he said again, calm but firm. There was no anger — just a quiet insistence.

Resigned, Poornima sank back into the pillows, letting the warmth of his presence lull her again. She closed her eyes, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Hours later, they both awoke in the mid-afternoon, feeling more refreshed.

Poornima moved to the kitchen first, quickly freshening up before preparing a simple lunch. Veeresh, impeccably dressed as always, moved to his study with his laptop, diving into work with sharp focus.

The aroma of food filled the penthouse as Poornima brought plates to the dining table. They ate in companionable silence — him occasionally glancing at the screen, her occasionally stealing a glance at him, heart quietly fluttering at the sight of his sharp concentration.

After lunch, Veeresh returned to his study while Poornima sank onto the couch, flipping on the television. She was about to enjoy a quiet afternoon when her phone rang.

It was Neha and Priyanka, calling at the same time.

“Poornima! How’s London? Are you surviving him?” Neha teased.

Priyanka’s voice chimed in immediately. “Tell us everything! Has he softened even a bit?”

Poornima laughed softly, covering her mouth. “I can’t tell you everything, but yes… I’m surviving him… mostly.”

The three of them chatted and giggled, catching up, laughing about old memories, sharing stories from back home. Poornima’s face was animated, eyes bright — for a moment, completely herself, without fear or guilt.

From the study, Veeresh’s sharp gaze flicked toward the couch. He watched her carefully, his expression unreadable.

She didn’t notice him — too busy laughing and speaking animatedly with her friends.

A faint curve tugged at the corner of his lips. She’s… happy, he thought quietly, eyes narrowing slightly, though his tone remained neutral. Even when I’m here, she finds joy somewhere else.

He leaned back slightly in his chair, silently observing, a storm of thoughts playing behind his calm, controlled facade.

One day, he thought, I’ll see if that joy is mine to claim.