Part 4 The Wager Routine

 The morning light spilled through the half-drawn curtains, brushing against the vanity mirror where Karan sat, towel still around his neck. The faint scent of rosewater lingered in the air, from the cleansing wipe he’d used. He had started to like that smell.

He picked up the soft satin nighty from the bedpost. It was lavender today, edged with tiny lace. He slipped into it, almost absently, then sat in front of the mirror again.

The wig was there. Brushed last night. Ready. It felt strange that he always checked its parting nowhe hadn’t even noticed when that habit began.

Then came the lipstick. He uncapped it, twisting the color up delicately. Coral. A shade he told himself looked neutral, not too bold. His hand hesitated only a second before the first stroke.

He pursed his lips, then tilted his head slightly just enough to catch the light. For a moment, he didn’t recognize the expression staring back. Not because it was foreign, but because it was so familiar.

The phone camera shuttered softly. He wasn’t even sure why he took it. From the doorway, Sneha’s voice came like a whisper wrapped in silk. “Good light today, isn’t it?”

Karan turned, startled. “I didn’t hear you come in.” She was dressed already, charcoal suit with her hair tied neatly. No lipstick today. Just her natural lips, though he noticed oddly the color seemed darker than usual.

She stepped closer, brushing lint off his shoulder. “You’ll make someone very jealous one day with that face,” she murmured. “Soft lips like those… hard to ignore.” He said nothing, only smiled faintly, eyes downcast. As she sipped her coffee, she glanced again at him. “Some people chase power. Some... attract it by simply being seen.” A pause. “You should finish getting ready.”

He blinked. “Me?” She tilted her head. “You’re not going to lounge all day in just lipstick and nightwear, are you? Be a dear and check the courier package when it comes. I think the hair tonic you ordered will arrive today.”

He opened his mouth to protest when did I order  but stopped.Had he?There was  something in the cart. And the ad had said ‘natural regrowth and soft texture’

He nodded slowly. “Yeah. I’ll check.

Later that evening Sneha walked in with a new client, a sharply dressed woman in her mid-30s, all elegance and firm handshake. Karan, still in soft lounge clothes, quickly moved to the kitchen.

Sneha called after him, casual: “Can you bring tea, please? I told Aarti you’ve got a special hand with ginger. Karan nodded, pouring water into the kettle. As the tea boiled, he looked down at his fingers. The nails were longer than before—he hadn’t trimmed them in days. He’d just been… shaping them.He poured the tea into the cups and walked back. Sneha smiled, holding the contract. “She just signed. Big one. Might change everything.”

The client nodded, sipping the tea. “Lovely touch of cardamom.”

Karan blushed.Sneha turned to him, beaming. “You always make things warm and beautiful. Inside and out.”

He smiled faintly. “Congrats.”She set the papers aside and wrapped one arm around his waist. “You’re my little charm. My lucky star.”

Her lips brushed his cheek, lingering just a moment. “Though I must say…” she whispered, “these lips how do you keep them so soft? He couldn’t answer. Just smiled. 

That night, as Sneha worked at her laptop, the freshly signed contract open beside her, Karan lingered near the kitchen window. The moonlight reflected faintly off the stainless-steel sink, and he watched his own shadow, tall and narrow, wearing a lavender nighty.

His fingers touched his lips. They still tingled faintly from Sneha’s kiss.He wasn’t sure if it was the compliment, the gesture, or just the way she had looked at him in front of the client like he was hers. Like a charm, a prize. A presence meant to decorate the room and bless it with warmth.

He didn’t feel humiliated.He felt useful and Wanted.That unsettled him more than he could say.

The next morning 

Sneha was in the bathroom longer than usual, the sound of her electric razor humming softly. Karan had gotten used to hearing it . it used to be his routine. Now, he waited for her to finish before stepping in.

When he did, there was a small envelope on the sink counter with his name on it.

Inside, a note:Weekly wax kit. Best used after a hot shower. Love, your spa partner. No signature. But no need for one.He turned the packet over. It was a gentle facial wax set, peach-scented. Meant for upper lip and chin.There wasn’t any instruction. She didn’t need to give one. Not anymore.

The delivery came right on time.The package was addressed to “Kavya”

Karan paused. That wasn’t his name. Was it?It was familiar. Vaguely.He carried it to the kitchen, placing it gently on the table before unsealing the box.

Inside: a bottle of herbal hair tonic, a scalp brush, and a silk headwrap.He stared at it all for a long moment.Then opened the lid.The scent was familiar like Sneha’s pillow.

Evening, Sneha came home late, hair windswept, blouse unbuttoned at the top. She looked tired, but victorious.

Karan was reclining on the sofa, wearing a soft pink kaftan. The room was dim, lit by one floor lamp and the warm glow from the TV screen, where a period drama played with low volume.

She walked in, kicked off her heels, and collapsed beside him.He instinctively leaned closer, brushing her hair back. “Long day?”She nodded, then kissed him on the lips. A long, slow kiss.

When she pulled back, she smiled, eyes lingering. “Still soft.”She rested her head on his lap.They didn’t speak for a while.