One night, he lay on the sofa pretending to sleep, leaving his wallet open, cash visible, and his most expensive watch on the table. Near midnight, Kavya entered quietly, barefoot, hair tied back, a small flashlight in her hand.
Rohan watched through half-closed eyes, waiting for hesitation. For desire.
Instead, she walked straight to him and gently placed a shawl over his shoulders.
“I wish you weren’t so alone,” she whispered.
She picked up the watch—not to steal it, but to clean and polish it before placing it back exactly where it had been.
Before leaving, she set down a dried marigold and a folded note.
After she left, Rohan opened it.
“Sometimes, those who have everything need humanity the most.”
Sleep never came that night.
From then on, the test repeated itself. Every night, he pretended to sleep. Every night, Kavya did the same—covering him, saying something kind, leaving behind a flower.
Until one night, he opened his eyes.
“Why do you do this?” he asked.
She froze. “You were awake?”
“I was pretending,” he admitted. “I wanted the truth.”
Her eyes filled. “So you were testing me…”
“I thought everyone wanted something from me,” he said quietly. “But you only leave flowers.”