The golden shafts of the morning sun pierced through the charcoal curtains, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air of the master suite. The room still felt like a battlefield, the memory of the previous night’s confrontation hanging heavy in the silence.

Arjun pushed the door open. His movements were stiff, his body aching from the hours spent on the cold terrace floor. He had come inside with a singular goal: change into his uniform, head to the station, and drown himself in paperwork until he could forget the way his own heart had betrayed him.