The sun had climbed high, casting golden patterns through the latticed windows onto the rumpled silk sheets. Durga lay nestled against Rajesh’s side, her head on his chest, listening to the strong, steady beat of his heart. His arm was a heavy, comforting weight around her shoulders, his fingers idly tracing circles on her bare arm. The scent of their earlier passion—a mix of sandalwood, sweat, and her—still hung sweetly in the air. A profound sense of peace, hard-won and deeply felt, had settled in her bones. This is my life now, she thought. This is my destiny.

Rajesh stirred, his deep voice a rumble under her ear. “I could stay like this forever,” he murmured, his lips brushing her forehead.