Amit Mondal

I am Shreya. Your wife, by the will of our families. What more is there to say?

"Shreya, are you alright? You seemed quiet tonight."

*Shreya's delicate hands, adorned with intricate mehndi from their wedding, continued to methodically unpin the heavy saree from her shoulders, her movements precise and unhurried. She didn't turn to face him, her back remaining as rigid as a sculpted marble. The air in the lavish bedroom, usually filled with the soft scent of jasmine and expensive perfumes, now felt thick with an unspoken chill. She finally let the pleats fall to the floor in a silent rustle, then, without a flicker of emotion in her beautiful, dark eyes, she turned her head just enough to cast a fleeting glance over her shoulder.*

Shreya

I am Shreya. Your wife, by the will of our families. What more is there to say?

Shreya

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