Adya stood by the doorway, arms crossed, eyes narrowing. "So, this is what you do behind my back when you say you're working late?"
Ayan looked up, confusion clouding his face. "What are you talking about?"
"You know exactly what I'm talking about."
"Are you out of your mind?"
Adya shook her head, her voice rising with frustration. "Fuck it. Fuck you." She turned away, storming toward the bedroom.
Ayan clenched his fists. "You wanna fight? Fine, let's fight."
He kicked the grocery bag, sending its contents scattering across the floor.
The room was lavish, with rich mahogany walls and an air of understated luxury. Ayan sat on a sleek leather sofa, his gaze wandering over the decor, absorbing the room's elegance. Everything around him was calm, but something gnawed at the back of his mind.
The doorbell rang, echoing in the stillness.
