Chapter 9

I woke up early the next morning to the soft hum of the air conditioner and the faint chirping of birds outside. The mansion was still and quiet, almost oppressively so. Lying in bed, I stared at the ornate ceiling, the unfamiliarity of my surroundings settling over me like a heavy blanket.

This wasn't home—it was too grand, too perfect, too... cold.

I couldn't shake the feeling of being a guest in my own life, unsure of what I was allowed to do or where I could go. Every step felt like walking on eggshells, even though the staff were polite and accommodating. There were rules here, even if unspoken, and I didn't yet know what they were.

When I made my way to the dining room, I found Veeranshu already seated at the head of the table, sipping his coffee while scrolling through something on his phone. He looked as composed as ever, dressed in a sharp gray suit, his presence commanding even in the quiet morning light.

"Good morning," I said softly, taking a seat a few chairs down from him.

He glanced up briefly. "Good morning."

The staff brought out an array of breakfast options—freshly baked croissants, fruit platters, and a selection of juices. It was overwhelming, and I felt out of place amidst the lavish spread. I settled for some toast and tea, my appetite subdued.

After a few moments of silence, I cleared my throat, summoning the courage to speak. "I wanted to let you know that I'll be going back to work today."

He looked up from his phone, his brows slightly furrowed. "Back to school?"

"Yes," I said, nodding. "I think it's best to get back to my routine. It'll help me... adjust."

He studied me for a moment before nodding. "That's fine. Do you need anything for work? Transportation? Supplies?"

"No, I'm fine," I replied, but he was already pulling out his wallet.

He slid a sleek black card across the table. "Take this. For any expenses."

I stared at the card, unsure of what to say. "I don't think that's necessary," I said finally.

"Tara," he said, his tone measured, "I know you're used to handling things on your own, but you don't have to anymore. This is part of your life now."

I hesitated but ultimately pushed the card back toward him. "Thank you, but I'd rather manage on my own."

He didn't argue, simply nodding and putting the card away. The conversation ended as abruptly as it had started, leaving an air of awkwardness between us.

After breakfast, I decided to pack a tiffin for lunch, a small piece of normalcy in an otherwise surreal situation. I made my way to the kitchen, where the staff were busy preparing meals.

"Ma'am," one of the chefs said, startled to see me. "What can we get for you?"

"I'd like to pack my lunch," I said, stepping toward the counter.

The staff exchanged glances, clearly unsure how to respond. "We can prepare it for you," one of them offered. "You don't need to worry about such things."

"I appreciate that," I said, forcing a polite smile. "But I'd like to do this myself. It's... important to me."

Reluctantly, they stepped aside, and I began assembling a simple tiffin. Roti, some sabzi, and a small portion of dal—nothing fancy, but it was comforting in its familiarity. As I worked, I felt a strange sense of satisfaction, like I was reclaiming a small part of myself in this sprawling mansion where everything felt foreign.

The drive to school was uneventful, but as soon as I walked through the gates, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. The familiar chatter of students, the rhythmic sound of chalk on blackboards, and the faint scent of old books filled the air.

This was my world—a place where I wasn't the wife of a wealthy businessman or the new mistress of a mansion. Here, I was just Ms. Gupta, a high school teacher with a passion for literature.

My colleagues welcomed me back warmly, their easy smiles and casual conversation putting me at ease. Even the students, though mischievous as always, brought a sense of normalcy that I hadn't realized I missed so much.

As I stepped into my classroom, the students greeted me with their usual enthusiasm.

"Good morning, Ms. Gupta!" they chorused.

"Good morning," I replied, smiling. "I hope you've all done the reading I assigned before the break."

Groans erupted across the room, and I couldn't help but laugh. "Let's get started, then."

For the next hour, we delved into the themes of julius caesar. The discussion was lively, and for the first time in days, I felt like myself again.

During lunch, I sat in the teachers' lounge, unpacking the tiffin I had prepared. The simple meal tasted better than anything I'd eaten since the wedding, perhaps because it was something I had made with my own hands.

A few of my colleagues joined me, chatting about their days and sharing stories about their students. It was refreshing to be part of a world where my identity wasn't tied to Veeranshu or the Mehra's, where I was just Tara.

By the time I returned to the mansion that evening, I felt lighter. The day had given me a sense of purpose, a reminder that my life hadn't been completely consumed by the changes around me.

As I walked through the grand doors, the quiet opulence of the mansion felt a little less intimidating. I had found a piece of myself in the outside world, and I clung to it tightly.

The staff greeted me politely, their deference still unsettling, but I managed a small smile as I made my way to our room.

That night, as I sat by the window with a cup of tea, I thought about the day. It hadn't been perfect, but it had been a start—a step toward finding balance in this new life.

Veeranshu had been absent as usual, busy with his world of meetings and deals, but I didn't mind as much as I thought I would. For now, I was content to carve out a small corner of normalcy for myself in the midst of this unfamiliar life.

And though I still felt like a guest in his world, I held onto the hope that, with time, it might start to feel like mine too.

A/N PLEASE VOTE AND COMMENT GUYS