The soft din of the mall grew louder around them as they left the clothing section, the hum of conversations and faint background music mingling with the rhythmic clatter of shopping carts on glossy floors. The sales staff who had helped them gathered near the counter, their arms busy folding and bagging the mountain of clothes. But their eyes—curious, warm—followed the young couple walking away.
"That young couple is so sweet," one of the women whispered to her colleague, unable to resist. "They look so beautiful together, don't they? Like they stepped out of one of those romantic dramas."
Shruti, trailing slightly behind Arjun, caught the words. Her steps faltered for the briefest moment, her ears burning as the words sank in. She lowered her gaze quickly, fighting the smile that tugged insistently at the corners of her lips.
Arjun, walking ahead, clearly heard it too. But his face remained impassive—at least, until that telltale quirk of his mouth gave him away. The tiniest smirk, fleeting and boyish.
Shruti peeked at him, eyes narrowing playfully. "You heard that, didn't you?"
"Hear what?" he asked, tone innocent, though his smirk deepened as he adjusted the bags in his hands.
"Liar," she muttered, half-laughing, half-embarrassed.
He gave a soft chuckle, leaning a little closer as if sharing a secret. "Let them talk. I don't mind."
Her heart did a strange little flip, but before she could answer, he nudged her gently toward their next destination.
"Come on, madam. We're not done yet."
The electronics section greeted them like another world—colder, crisper. LED screens glowed like sentinels, casting pale light that reflected off Arjun's glasses. The low hum of running devices, the soft click of keyboards, the scent of new plastic and faintly metallic air—it all wrapped around them.
Shruti slowed down, the sensory overload mixing with the growing weight of the morning's surprises. "Arjun… what now?" she asked, already bracing herself.
"Phone. Laptop. Smartwatch." His tone was casual, as if listing the next items on a grocery list.
Her eyes widened. "Wait—what?! No, no. I told you, I don't need all that! I can manage—I've managed so far—"
But he stopped, turning fully to face her, his gaze soft but unwavering. "Shruti." His voice dropped low, patient. "You deserve your own. You need your own. For college. For yourself. I don't want you to feel dependent on anyone—not even me. And no more borrowing."
She opened her mouth to argue, but he was already moving. His fingers flew over touchpads, swiped through phone specs, tested keyboards. The staff watched, amused at his efficiency and focus.
Shruti trailed behind him, overwhelmed, trying to keep up. "Arjun, really—this is too much. You don't have to—"
He shot her a grin over his shoulder. "Too late. Already decided."
In no time, he had the top-of-the-line Android phone in his hand, pairing it with a sleek smartwatch that matched its aesthetic. He debated for barely a minute between two laptops before choosing the one the store manager himself endorsed.
"This one's faster, better battery, and lighter. You'll need that for college."
She shook her head, dazed. "You act like you've done this a hundred times."
"I've just been waiting for the right person to do it for," he said lightly, not looking at her as he handed over his card.
Her breath caught. The staff behind the counter exchanged knowing looks.
One of the women leaned forward, smiling at Shruti with warm eyes. "You're very lucky, dear. Such a nice husband. It's rare to see someone care like this these days."
Shruti flushed crimson, caught between embarrassment and a strange, giddy happiness. "I… um… thank you," she stammered, biting back a grin.
Meanwhile, Arjun finished the transaction without flinching at the final bill. Shruti's eyes widened at the total, but he simply signed and handed over the receipt.
As they walked out, loaded with bags and boxes, the weight of everything she carried felt lighter than the storm of emotions inside her.
She hesitated, then slowly, almost shyly, slipped her hand into his. Just lightly—barely a touch. Maybe he wouldn't even notice.
But Arjun noticed. He always noticed.
He glanced down, smirking. "Look at that. I thought you were the shy one."
Her cheeks grew hot, but this time she didn't pull away. Instead, she met his gaze, her voice soft but steady. "I just… felt like it."
He squeezed her hand gently, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. "Tired from all the shock?"
Shruti nodded, leaning slightly against him as they walked. "Tired… but happy. Arjun, I don't know how to—"
"Don't," he interrupted gently. "You don't have to thank me. I wanted to do this."
She smiled, heart full. "You're dangerous, you know that?"
He laughed, a rich, easy sound that made her smile widen. "Only for you, madam."
Their steps slowed as they neared the food court. The scent of coffee and fresh dosa mingled in the air.
"Hungry?" he asked.
She nodded, eyes soft. "Starving. But… Arjun?"
"Yeah?"
"I don't want to forget today."
His expression turned tender, his voice low as he said, "You won't. I won't let you."
The Thar's engine purred steadily as they cruised along the late afternoon roads, sunlight glinting off the sleek black hood. The backseat was piled high—neatly packed clothing bags, electronics boxes, and a few small accessories Arjun had quietly added at the last minute. The subtle new-leather scent of the car mingled with the faint, lingering aroma of the mall's food court.
Shruti sat in the passenger seat, the unopened phone box resting in her lap, its smooth packaging still too pristine to touch. The laptop bag sat at her feet, and the new smartwatch already circled her wrist, the strap still feeling unfamiliar.
For a long moment, she said nothing—just stared at the phone box, then at him, then back at the road stretching ahead.
Finally, she found her voice, still soft, still dazed.
"Arjun…"
"Hm?" He glanced at her briefly, eyes returning to the road.
"I—" She hesitated, the words tangled at first. "I knew you were... well-off. But how are you able to spend like this? I mean—today alone…" She gestured helplessly at the mountain of shopping between them.
He smiled, a small, knowing smile, eyes calm beneath the brim of his cap. "Because I earn."
She blinked. "But you're just nineteen…"
"I opened my first Demat account when I was sixteen," he said, like it was the most ordinary thing. "Started learning. Small investments at first, then swing trades. I read. I studied the market. I worked at it. I don't touch my father's money, Shruti. This is mine."
Shruti stared at him like he'd just told her he had wings hidden beneath his shirt. "You earn… like that? From trading?"
"Yeah," he said with a light shrug. "I got good at it over time."
She swallowed, her voice faint. "How good?"
He shot her a playful side glance, his lips twitching at the corners. "Had around a hundred and sixteen crores. After today's shopping spree… maybe a bit less."
Her mouth fell open. She stared at him, then at the unopened phone, then at the dashboard. "A hundred and sixteen crores? Arjun, are you serious?"
"Dead serious."
Her heart raced as she tried to do the math of what today had cost—but she couldn't even begin to calculate.
"How much did you spend today?" she asked, bracing herself.
He pretended to think for a moment, eyes twinkling. "Roughly… sixteen and a half lakh. Give or take. The dresses took the crown there."
Shruti nearly choked on air. "Sixteen—Arjun!"
He laughed, a full, warm laugh that filled the car's cabin. "Now that's the expression I was waiting for!"
She groaned, covering her face with her hands. "Oh my God… I had three pairs of clothes when I came here. Three! You married a potato!"
He reached over with one hand, eyes still on the road, and gently pinched her cheek. "My potato," he said, grinning. "The cutest one."
She swatted at his hand, though her lips betrayed her with a smile.
"I'm serious," she muttered, cheeks warm. "You married someone who couldn't even contribute anything. And here you are, spending lakhs like it's nothing."
His voice softened. "You are contributing, Shruti. More than you realize."
She fell quiet, fingers absently tracing the logo on the back of the phone box. What stunned her wasn't just the amount of money he'd spent—it was the ease with which he did it. The quiet, unwavering care behind every purchase. The way he hadn't once mentioned the cost, hadn't once made it feel like a favor.
Her voice was small when she spoke again. "Why are you so… kind to me?"
He glanced at her briefly, expression serious now. "Because I want to be. Because I care. And because I don't want you to feel small or left out or worried—not when you're with me."
Her heart twisted in a way that both hurt and healed.
She hesitated, then slowly slid her hand into his—tentative, shy, but needing that anchor.
Arjun smirked again, squeezing her fingers lightly. "Look at that. The shy one's full of surprises today."
She flushed, but didn't let go. "I just… felt like it. Okay?"
"Okay," he said quietly, the teasing gone now. He lifted her hand slightly, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. "You can hold my hand whenever you feel like it. No permission needed."
They drove on, cityscapes blurring past—a quilt of traffic lights, shop signs, and afternoon sun filtered through scattered clouds.
And as Shruti sat there, heart full and overwhelmed, she realized something she didn't say aloud—maybe couldn't.
For the first time in a long while, she felt safe.
Safe… and maybe even home.
And maybe, just maybe, home wasn't a place at all.
It was sitting right next to her, one hand on the wheel, the other holding hers like he'd never let go.
To be continued...