The bustling city of Ahmedabad welcomed the Gujarat Titans (GT) cricket team with open arms. As the players disembarked from their bus, Shubman Gill, the team's star batsman, greeted each teammate with a warm hug. Among them was Avneet, his wife, who stood by his side, a smile playing on her lips.

"Meet Avneet," Shubman said, introducing her to the team. "She's my lucky charm."

The GT team, clad in their blue jerseys, exchanged pleasantries. The hotel staff, well-versed in hosting cricket stars, ushered them into the luxurious Hyatt Regency. The lobby buzzed with excitement as players checked in, their eyes tired yet eager.

Avneet, still holding Shubman's hand, marveled at the opulence. She stepped onto the balcony, the city lights stretching out before her. "Shub, the view is breathtaking," she whispered.

He remained silent, lost in his thoughts. Avneet turned to him, concern etching her features. "What happened, baby?" she asked.

Shubman pulled her close, his embrace comforting. "I know you missed out on post-marriage rituals," he said softly. "But being here with you during the IPL season mattered more to me."

Avneet cupped his face. "It's okay, Shub. Our love is our own ritual."

Later, as the clock struck midnight, Avneet scrolled through her phone gallery. Wedding photos flooded her screen—moments frozen in time. She selected one and decided to share it on Instagram, captioning it with heart emojis.

Her nightwear replaced the salwar. Just then, her phone rang. Shahneel's name appeared on the screen. She answered, "Hello?"

"Tusīṁ kī kara rahē sī?" Shahneel's voice crackled. (Translation: What were you doing?)

Avneet replied, "Kujha nahīṁ. Maiṁ tāṁ baiṭhā hī sī. Shub ika team meeting la'ī gi'ā hai." (Translation: Nothing. I was just sitting. Shub has gone for a team meeting.)

Shahneel chuckled. "Maiṁ jāṇadā hāṁ ki usa'tē kapatānī dā dabā'a hai." (Translation: I know he has the captaincy pressure.)

Avneet sighed. "I can see it in his eyes, even if he doesn't say it aloud."

Shahneel leaned in. "Suhana is coming," she revealed. "She's clingy, especially with Kake. Watch out—she'll use SRK's name to get what she wants."

"But it's been 3 years since Shub left the KKR team," Avneet mused. "Why is she still after him?"

"Mainū kivēṁ patā hai?" Shahneel laughed. (Translation: How do I know?) "She arrives tomorrow in Ahmedabad. Ask her yourself."

As the call ended, Shubman entered their room. Avneet glanced at the clock—1:00 am. "Dinner?" she offered.

He shook his head. "Very tired, Neet. Breakfast early tomorrow." She kissed his forehead, and they settled into bed. Shubman pulled her close, their hearts in sync. Slowly, they drifted into dreams, cocooned in love and cricket's magic.

The sun peeked through the curtains, casting a warm glow on Shubman's face. He stirred, rubbing his eyes, and reluctantly left the cozy cocoon of his bed. The morning routine awaited him: a brisk walk to the bathroom, the invigorating splash of water, and the soothing cascade of the shower. As he toweled off, he glanced at Avneet, still lost in dreamland, her tousled hair framing her peaceful expression. She slept like a contented baby, and Shubman couldn't help but smile.

His mind, however, was already racing ahead. He reached for a pen and a scrap of paper, scribbling a note for Avneet. It was a simple message, yet it held a promise: "Back soon. Love you." He tiptoed out of the room, leaving her to her dreams.

The cricket pitch buzzed with activity as Shubman arrived. The players, clad in their team colors, moved purposefully, their energy contagious. Shubman raised his voice above the din, rallying his teammates. "Guys," he called out, "we need to gear up for the matches now."

Heads nodded in agreement, and the field came alive. Batsmen practiced their strokes, bowlers honed their deliveries, and fielders sprinted across the grass. Amidst this orchestrated chaos, Kane Williamson, the seasoned campaigner, approached Shubman. "Hey, man," Kane greeted him.

"Hello, Kane," Shubman replied. Kane's eyes crinkled in a friendly smile. "Congratulations on your marriage," he said, revealing that Rashid had spilled the news.

"Thanks, Kane," Shubman said, touched by the camaraderie. But then he hesitated, the weight of responsibility settling on his shoulders. "You know," he confessed, "the captaincy—it's intense. I've just hit my stride in matches, and suddenly they've handed me the reins instead of you."

Kane's hand found Shubman's shoulder. "I understand," he said softly. "Being captain at this age—it's both an honor and a challenge."

As Shubman grappled with his newfound role, the dynamics shifted. Avneet watched from the sidelines, her heart swelling with pride. Shubman's dedication was evident, and she couldn't help but smile. But then Suhana appeared, an enigma wrapped in confidence. Avneet's smile wavered.

Suhana's pointed remark cut through the air. "This place isn't for fans," she declared, eyeing Avneet.

Undeterred, Avneet faced her. "I'm not a fan," she retorted. "You'll find out tomorrow, Ms. Khan."

Suhana's confusion was palpable. Avneet leaned in, whispering to Shubman, "Pretend we're old friends for now. Tomorrow, announce that I'm your wife."

Shubman played his part, and Suhana observed from a distance. When she finally approached him, she greeted him casually. "Hello, Shub."

Avneet clenched her fists. Shubman's curt response stung. "Shouldn't you be at Eden Gardens?" he quipped. "Or are you here to spy on us? We've got a match against your team tomorrow."

Suhana's eyes widened. "No, Shub," she protested. "I'm here to support you."

As Shubman walked away, Avneet fumed. "She's a spoilt brat," she muttered. "Supporting the rival team instead of her own."

Shubman calmed her. "Neet," he said, "don't let her anger affect us." Avneet's grip softened as he pulled her into a hug.

And so, amidst cricket fervor and tangled emotions, Shubman prepared for the showdown against KKR—a match that would test not only his skills but also the bonds that tied him to Avneet and the unexpected presence of Suhana Khan.

The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow through the bedroom window. Avneet shifted, her eyes fluttering open. The room was dim, but she could make out Shubman's silhouette. He sat on the edge of the bed, lost in thought.

"Shub," she whispered, her voice soft as a breeze. "Do you have an extra jersey?"

He turned toward her, his eyes warm. "Yes," he replied. "Why?"

Avneet's cheeks flushed. "I forgot to buy one," she confessed. "I want to wear it tomorrow—to support you."

Shubman's smile was tender. He reached for the drawer, pulling out a jersey—the fabric still warm from his body. "Here you go, baby," he said. "You need not ask. Whatever is mine is also yours."

Her heart swelled. She took the jersey, feeling its weight, its connection to him. "Thank you," she murmured, leaning in to kiss him. Their lips met—a promise unspoken yet understood.

"Sleep now," Avneet whispered. "Tomorrow's a big day."

Avneet nodded, slipping into her nightwear. Shubman did the same, and they lay side by side, their fingers entwined. The room held their secrets—the dreams, the fears, the shared passion for cricket. As the night deepened, they drifted into slumber, wrapped in each other's warmth.

Tomorrow, on the cricket field, Shubman would wear his official jersey—the emblem of his team. But tonight, in this quiet room, he'd given Avneet something more—a piece of his heart, stitched into the fabric, a symbol of their love and unwavering support.

And so, under the watchful moon, they slept—a team of two, ready to face whatever challenges the morning would bring.