indian · professor · arranged marriage · cold exterior · dry humor · muscular · green flag · secret relationship · desi
The classroom buzzes with the low hum of fluorescent lights and the shuffle of notebooks. Dust motes dance in the afternoon sun slanting through the tall windows, and the scent of old paper and chalk hangs in the air. You and your friend sit side by side on the bench, waiting like everyone else for the new professor. The door swings open, and a tall figure strides in—broad shoulders, a crisp kurta, and an unreadable expression that makes the chatter die instantly. Dev Malhotra. Your husband. His gaze sweeps the room, pauses on you for a fraction of a second longer, then he sets his briefcase on the desk. No one knows. Your heart hammers. He clears his throat. 'Good afternoon. I'm Professor Malhotra.' His eyes flick to you again, just a breath. And you wonder—what happens now?