As the first light of dawn crept through the sheer curtains, Aditi's eyes fluttered open to the serene sight of Shubman, his breaths even and calm in the quiet of the morning. He lay beside her, his arms encircling her waist in a gentle embrace that spoke volumes of the silent promise to always protect and cherish. A few strands of his hair tumbled onto his forehead, casting delicate shadows over his features, and the faintest of smiles played upon his lips, revealing the soft indentations of his dimples.

With a tender curiosity, Aditi reached out, her finger lightly tracing the outline of those dimples that had so often been the precursor to his laughter. The touch, light as it was, seemed to stir him from his slumber. His brows furrowed ever so slightly, a frown marring the peaceful expression as his eyes, those windows to his soul, slowly opened to the world.

Blinking away the remnants of sleep, Shubman's gaze met Aditi's playful one. "Shubman, smile for me," she whispered, her voice a soft melody in the stillness of their bedroom.

His response was a smile that warmed her heart, deepening the dimples she so adored. Unable to resist, she poked them again, a giggle escaping her lips. "It's real!" she exclaimed with a childlike wonder.

Shubman's chuckle resonated in the quiet room, a sound that felt like home. "Of course, it's real," he assured her, his voice tinged with the remnants of dreams.

Curiosity then took hold of him as he inquired about the time, to which Aditi replied, "It's 5:30 am." Understanding dawned on him; the day beckoned. With a nod, he rose from the bed, his movements fluid and purposeful, and he disappeared into the bathroom, his practice jersey in hand, signaling the start of his routine.

Meanwhile, Aditi, not one to waste the precious moments of dawn, stepped out onto the balcony. The air was fresh, filled with the promise of a new day, and she breathed it in deeply, feeling the cool breeze kiss her cheeks.

Shubman returned, his presence a comforting constant, and announced his departure for practice. From the sanctuary of the bathroom, Aditi acknowledged his words, her own day's agenda clear in her mind. "Okay, I will leave at 8:30," she called out.

Their morning rituals continued in a harmonious dance of routine and affection. Aditi emerged from her shower, the water droplets glistening on her skin like morning dew. She wrapped herself in her bathrobe and approached the suitcase that lay open, its contents a testament to their travels and shared experiences.

Her eyes settled on a classic shirt dress, its design timeless yet with a modern edge that spoke of her personal style. It boasted bust darts for a flattering fit, a structured yoke, and a practical pocket, all brought together with a ribbed collar that lent an air of sophistication.

Adorned in gold heels that complemented her dress, Aditi's reflection in the mirror showed a woman of grace and poise. Her hair cascaded freely down her shoulders, framing her face in a natural elegance, and her makeup was applied with a light hand, enhancing rather than masking her beauty. Around her neck, the mangalsutra lay visible, a symbol of love and commitment that shone with a luster that matched the glow in her heart.

As the clock ticked closer to the time of departure, their morning unfolded with the quiet assurance of two lives intertwined, each moment a thread in the tapestry of their shared existence.

The clock struck 8:15, a silent herald of the day's impending commitments. Aditi, with a glance at the time, felt a gentle urgency nudge her morning tranquility. She descended the staircase, each step a soft echo in the quiet house, and made her way to the breakfast nook. There, she found solace in the simple act of breaking fast, the flavors of the morning meal awakening her senses and grounding her in the present.

With breakfast concluded, she reached for her phone, the device a lifeline to the world beyond. A quick call to her driver ensured that her journey would proceed without delay. Soon enough, she stood before the studio, its facade a canvas of memories and stories yet to be told.

Inside, the studio was a hive of activity, crew members flitting about like bees, each one dedicated to their task, setting the stage for the day's production. Aditi took her place, her chair a throne from which she would share her art, her smile a beacon of warmth in the cool, professional space.

Meher, the interviewer, arrived with a grace that belied the flurry of preparation around them. Her smile was an unspoken greeting, a shared acknowledgment of the dance they were about to perform for the camera's unblinking eye.

"Aditi, we'll start with a few questions," Meher announced, her voice a blend of authority and camaraderie. Aditi's nod was her silent assent, a signal that she was ready to dive into the depths of conversation.

"Who is your inspiration?" Meher began, the question a key turning in the lock of Aditi's musical soul.

Aditi's answer was a melody of gratitude and respect. "For singing, it's the nightingale Lata Mangeshkar and the melodious Shreya Ghoshal. But as for life, it's my brother, the stalwart Rohit Sharma, and my husband, the steadfast Shubman Gill," she replied, her words a tapestry weaving together the figures who shaped her journey.

Meher's next inquiry sought to peel back the layers of Aditi's personal life. "What is the mystery behind your marriage?" she asked, her tone suggesting the intrigue that often surrounded those in the public eye.

"There is no mystery, really. We are just happily married," Aditi responded, her words simple yet profound, a testament to the joy found in the ordinary moments shared with a loved one.

The conversation flowed like a river, meandering through the landscape of Aditi's career. "When is your new song releasing?" Meher inquired, her interest piqued by the prospect of new art being brought into the world.

"The next week," Aditi revealed, her voice tinged with the excitement of creation, "my new song will make its debut on YouTube."

The interview then took a turn towards the playful, a detour into the personal artifacts that often go unseen. "Aditi, do you have your phone?" Meher asked, her eyes alight with the spark of spontaneity.

"Yes," Aditi confirmed, her curiosity now fully engaged.

"Can we explore a 'What's in your phone' segment?" Meher proposed, the question an invitation to share a slice of Aditi's life with the audience.

Aditi agreed with a nod, her spirit embracing the lightheartedness of the moment. "Your wallpaper?" Meher asked, her voice a gentle prompt.

Aditi, who had just that morning chosen a new wallpaper, a snapshot capturing a moment of joy with Shubman, now shared it with a smile that mirrored the happiness frozen in time on her screen. The image, a testament to their love, was now a shared secret with the world.

Aditi's wallpaper.

Meher's eyes twinkled with curiosity as she leaned in closer to Aditi, her smile broadening. "Tell me," she implored with a playful tilt of her head, "what was the last message you sent? And to whom was it?"

Aditi's cheeks flushed with a soft glow of affection as she recalled the exchange. "Oh, it was to Shubman," she replied, her voice carrying a melody of fondness. "I assured him, 'It's okay, I will be there.' You see, we had planned a dinner date last night, and he was confirming the timings with me."

The conversation flowed effortlessly between the two friends, like a gentle stream weaving through an ancient forest. Meher's interest piqued further, her gaze now filled with a mix of mischief and delight. "Could you show me one cute picture of Shubman from your gallery?" she asked, her words dancing with anticipation.

Aditi's smile blossomed like a flower in the first light of dawn. She reached for her phone, her fingers gliding over the screen with the grace of a pianist. The gallery opened, revealing moments captured in pixels and light. With a tender touch, she selected a photo that made her heart sing—a snapshot of Shubman, his eyes sparkling with joy, a candid moment that spoke volumes of their shared happiness.

She turned the screen towards Meher, who let out a soft gasp of admiration. "He looks absolutely adorable," Meher exclaimed, her voice a whisper of awe. The two friends shared a look, a silent exchange that needed no words, for it was filled with understanding, memories, and the unspoken bond of friendship.

Meher's voice was a gentle murmur, filled with warmth and affection. "That's absolutely adorable," she cooed, her eyes reflecting the joy in Aditi's smile. The interview had unfolded beautifully, a seamless dance of questions and heartfelt answers. As it concluded, Aditi's thoughts drifted to calling her driver, but a familiar horn cut through her reverie. Turning, she saw Shubman's car pull up. Her smile deepened, and she gracefully slid into the passenger seat. "Finished with practice?" she inquired, her voice light.

Shubman's nod was accompanied by a casual, "Coffee?" The simplicity of the offer belied the depth of their connection. Aditi's nod was all the confirmation needed, and they set off towards their favorite coffee shop.

Seated across from each other, the world seemed to fade away. Aditi recounted the day's events, noticing Shubman's smile growing with every word. "Why that smile?" she teased, her curiosity piqued.

"It's because you spoke of me in your interview," Shubman confessed, his eyes alight with pride. Aditi's response was immediate, "Of course, you're my husband."

Laughter bubbled up from Shubman as he leaned forward to kiss her hands, a tender gesture that spoke volumes. Their moment was interrupted by a voice, "Aditi?" Both turned to find Karthik standing there, his presence a sudden jolt. Aditi's shock mirrored Shubman's, but she managed a polite, "I'm fine, Mr. Bedi." Karthik's gaze fell on the mangalsutra around her neck, his surprise evident. "You're married?"

Shubman's affirmation was strong, protective. "Yes, she is, and her husband is right here." Karthik's shock was palpable, his eyebrows arching high. "Oh! So, Rohit Sharma decided to get Aditi married to you?" Aditi's voice was firm, yet filled with gratitude. "Yes, and it's the best decision bhaiyya made. Let's go, Shub."

They excused themselves, leaving Karthik behind. Near their car, Aditi sought comfort in Shubman's embrace, his heartbeat a soothing rhythm against the silence of her own thoughts.

The hug eventually broke, giving way to a tender kiss, a silent affirmation of their love. "Are you alright?" Shubman's concern was evident, even as he smiled faintly.

Aditi's nod was resolute. "Yes, I'm perfectly fine." Together, they drove back to their hotel, wrapped in the cocoon of their shared world.

Arriving at night, they presented Shahneel with a makeup kit, a thoughtful gift from Shubman, chosen with Aditi's impeccable taste. Shahneel's squeal of delight filled the room, her thanks echoing warmly.

The night wound down with Shubman and Aditi retreating to their room, slipping into the comfort of their pyjamas. They joined the others for dinner, laughter and conversation flowing freely. Later, in the sanctuary of their room, the lights dimmed to a soft glow, Aditi nestled close to Shubman. His arms wrapped around her, a silent promise of forever, as they drifted into sleep.