Page 77 of Okay Boss
Watching the shape of her in the bed. The way moonlight caught the edge of her profile. The slight rise and fall of her breathing.
His wife.
Not for two years.
Forever.
Sleep finally claimed him somewhere near dawn, still watching over her.
Tomorrow they would establish routines and boundaries and proper distance.
Tonight, he just let himself feel the weight of her presence in his room, in his space, in his life.
And it felt right in a way that terrified him completely.
Chapter 17
Divya’s eyes snapped open at 4:58 AM, two minutes before her internal alarm. Her hand fumbled across the unfamiliar nightstand, searching for her phone. When her fingers met only polished wood, panic fluttered in her chest, she was late, behind, failing.
Only then did her fingers find her wire-rimmed glasses, and as she slipped them on, reality crashed in with the suddenly sharp edges of the room. The spacious bedroom. The soft silk sheets. The wedding yesterday.
She slid from beneath the covers, bare feet meeting cold marble.
That’s when she saw him. Vikram sprawled across the couch, one arm flung above his head, legs dangling off the edge.
In sleep, his face lacked its usual intensity, the furrow between his brows smoothed away. Her hand reached out automatically, hovering inches from his cheek. For one suspended moment, she imagined brushing her fingers against his skin, feeling its warmth.
She stepped back, curling her fingers into her palm.
This wasn’t real. The marriage, yes. But the rest? Vikram Khanna could never be her reality. She was the solution to a PR problem, nothing more.
She dressed quickly in one of the few outfits she’d brought from home, a simple cotton kurta in pale blue. Practical. Modest. Herself.
The hallway outside stretched empty and silent. She moved quietly, testing each step on the marble to avoid making noise.
The grand staircase loomed ahead. A path to what? What was her role now? What function did she serve?
Usefulness.
The word settled in her mind like an anchor. She needed to justify her presence in this house that had never been meant for her.
???
The kitchen was three times the size of her family’s entire apartment. Gleaming steel surfaces. Professional-grade appliances. Already staffed with four people working.
A woman in a crisp uniform looked up as Divya entered. “Ma’am, can I help you with something?”
“I just...” Divya’s hands twisted in front of her. “Thought I might help with breakfast?”
The woman’s confusion was evident. “Everything is prepared according to schedule, ma’am. The breakfast will be served at 7:30 in the dining room.”
“Would you like tea now?” the woman asked, already reaching for a cup.
“No, thank you. I’m sorry to disturb you.” Divya backed toward the door, cheeks warming with embarrassment.
She wandered through halls that felt like a museum, priceless art, pristine furniture, floors that reflected her hesitant steps. Every corner seemed designed to make her feel like an intruder.
Through French doors left ajar, morning air slipped through. Divya stepped into the garden where Kavita and Ishani approached on a winding path, returning from their morning walk. Both women moved with innate confidence, Kavita in sleek black athletic wear, Ishani in complementary blue.
