The clock crept toward midnight, the numbers on the bedside digital display glowing a soft crimson against the shadows of their Parisian suite. For the last forty-eight hours, the city had belonged to them. Avni and Divyash had wandered hand-in-hand through the hallowed halls of the Louvre and the Musée d’Orsay, lost in the brushstrokes of masters. They had spent hours in tucked-away cafés, laughing over espresso, and filling shopping bags with treasures for their family back home.
Avni hadn't felt this light in years. The weight of her career had been replaced by the easy, comforting warmth of Divyash’s presence. Earlier that day, beneath the iron lattice of the Eiffel Tower, they had posed for a professional photographer. Divyash, ever the romantic, had nudged her for a kiss in front of the lens. Avni had hesitated, her natural reserve flaring up at the thought of such public display, but one look into his pleading "puppy-dog" eyes and she had melted. The resulting photo—a stolen, passionate moment against the Parisian skyline—was a masterpiece of its own.
By the time they returned to the hotel, exhaustion had claimed her. She had fallen into a deep sleep, only to be stirred by a soft, familiar voice.
"Happy Birthday, Jaana..."
Avni blinked, her vision blurry as she pushed herself up against the headboard. Divyash stood there, illuminated by the flickering glow of a few candles on a small, elegant cake. A cluster of colorful balloons bobbed gently near the ceiling behind him.
"Make a wish, birthday girl," he whispered, his voice like velvet.
Avni closed her eyes. She didn’t wish for success or wealth. Instead, she breathed a silent prayer: God, please let this never change. Keep him safe, keep him healthy, and keep him by my side for eternity.
She blew out the candles, the smoke curling into the dim room. After a playful exchange of feeding each other the first few bites of cake, Divyash’s eyes sparkled with a different kind of excitement. "I have something else for you."
He disappeared toward his suitcase and returned with two meticulously wrapped boxes. "Open the big one first."
As Avni peeled back the paper, the light caught the shimmer of rich, red satin. It was the dress he had seen in the window—the bold, backless masterpiece. She lifted it out, the fabric feeling like cool water in her hands.
"I know it’s a bit... different from your usual style," Divyash said, his voice carrying a rare note of nervous vulnerability. "But when I saw it, I just knew. I couldn't stop thinking about how breathtaking you’d look in it."
"It's perfect, Ansh," she replied softly, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. She watched a flush of crimson creep up his neck, a sight she never tired of.
"Now, the other one," he urged.
The second box was smaller, embossed with the unmistakable gold lettering of Cartier. Inside sat a delicate diamond necklace with matching earrings that caught every stray beam of light in the room.
"Divyash, this is too much," she breathed, her eyes wide. "Cartier? You shouldn't have spent this kind of money."
He took the necklace from the velvet lining, stepping behind her. "It’s your birthday, jaana. Don't look at the price tag. Just let me do this for my wife."
As he fastened the cold metal around her throat, his fingers brushed against her skin, sending a jolt of electricity through her. She looked in the mirror, the diamonds sparkling against her skin, and turned back into his arms. The kiss that followed was deep and desperate, a "thank you" that words couldn't manage—until the shrill ring of her phone shattered the silence
"The timing of this family is impeccable," Divyash groaned, though he was grinning.
It was a video call from home. For the next hour, they were swept up in the warmth of family—parents, grandparents, even a blurry view of Scooby wagging his tail. It was a bittersweet reminder of how much had changed; it was her first birthday since her parents had passed that felt truly full of joy.
But as soon as she hung up, her brother called. Then her best friend, Kritika.
"Happy Birthday, madam!" Kritika shouted the moment Avni answered. "How’s the honeymoon? Have you worn that 'special' something I bought you yet?"
Avni lowered her voice, glancing nervously at Divyash, who was currently pouting on the edge of the bed. "Not yet, Kriti. There hasn't been... an opportunity."
"Well, make one!" Kritika hissed playfully. "It's your birthday! Wear it tomorrow night. Give yourself—and him—a gift to remember. You'll need the energy, so go to sleep!"
When the call finally ended, Avni bit her lip, her heart hammering. She looked at Divyash, who simply pulled her down beside him, his arm draping over her waist as he tucked his face into the crook of her neck. He was a paradox—fiercely romantic one moment, and a cuddly, oblivious husband the next. She lay there in the dark, trying to quiet her racing thoughts, until sleep finally claimed them both.
The next evening, Paris felt different. After a day spent exploring the vintage soul of Le Marais and the theatrical glitz of the Moulin Rouge, they returned to the suite to prepare for their final celebratory dinner.
Divyash emerged from the bathroom looking sharp in a fitted black shirt that accentuated his shoulders. But when Avni stepped out, the world seemed to stop. The red satin dress hugged her curves perfectly, the thigh-high slit offering a glimpse of leg with every step. Her hair was swept up in a deliberate, messy bun, leaving her neck bare for the Cartier diamonds to catch the light.
Divyash stood frozen. He didn't speak; he couldn't. He simply stared at the goddess before him, humbled by the fact that she was his.
Dinner at a restaurant overlooking the Eiffel Tower was a blur of fine wine and exquisite food, but neither of them was truly focused on the menu. A heavy, magnetic tension hung between them. They spoke in low tones, their eyes locked, both of them secretly counting the minutes until they could return to the privacy of their room.
The moment the suite door clicked shut and the lock turned, the pretense of patience vanished. Divyash didn't wait for the lights to be turned on. He pulled Avni against him, his hands finding the small of her back as he kissed her with a ferocity that took her breath away.
It was a battle for dominance, their tongues dancing in a wild, passionate rhythm. Divyash moved to her neck, his kisses turning into light nips and slow, lingering suctions, marking his territory on her skin. Avni leaned back, her breath hitching, her hands gripping his shoulders to keep her balance as the world spun.
His fingers found the thin straps of her dress, sliding them slowly off her shoulders. He began to reach for the zipper at her back, his intent clear.
But suddenly, Avni’s hand moved, covering his. She stopped his movement, and for a terrifying second, Divyash’s heart sank. Did I go too far? Is she uncomfortable?
Sensing his sudden panic, Avni leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose, a playful glint in her eyes.
"I have a surprise for you," she whispered, her voice husky. "Just stay right here. Don't move."
She pulled away, leaving him breathless and confused in the center of the room. She dashed to her luggage, pulled out a small, silken bundle, and disappeared into the bathroom before he could utter a single word.
Divyash stood alone in the moonlight, his heart thudding against his ribThrs, waiting for the door to open again.
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