The chilly outside wind stopped right at the glass door, but as soon as the warmth of the lights and the hum of chatter hit my skin inside, my heart skipped a beat. From the sound of Arnab-babu opening the car door to the vibrant entrance of the hotel—the entire journey had passed in a strange haze.

Today was our first major social event together after our marriage. I was wearing a deep blue Jamdani saree, a simple bun in my hair, and a tiny black bindi on my forehead. The pallu of my saree kept slipping from my grip; perhaps my saree was trembling in this unfamiliar environment just like my fingers were. Arnab-babu was dressed in a jet-black silk kurta. Standing beside his tall, broad frame, I looked far too small and out of place from every angle.