Akansha finally turned to look at rohit. Her eyes were different. The warm, languorous glow from the sofa, from the shower, was gone. They were sharp, focused, distant. The actress was fully in command. “That was this morning, Rohit. This is business.” She stepped into the dress, pulling it up over her hips, her breasts. She struggled with the back zipper. “C'mon now Help me with this.”

Rohit moved as if in a trance. He took the small zipper pull between his thumb and forefinger. He zipped it up, the sound a harsh whisper in the quiet room. His knuckles brushed the bare skin of her back, and akansha didn’t flinch, didn’t react. It was as if his touch was now that of a servant. The transformation was brutal, and it stole the breath from his lungs.