Switzerland greeted Monty and Romi with a crisp alpine breeze and the quiet hum of luxury. The snow-covered streets were a picture of postcard perfection, but Monty's heart was anything but peaceful.
They arrived at the hotel—a charming, five-star retreat tucked between white-tipped hills and whispering pines. A bellboy escorted them to their suite, which had been decorated for a romantic honeymoon. Rose petals trailed across the floor, delicate candles flickered on marble countertops, and the bed was adorned with soft silk sheets in shades of ivory and blush.
Romi stepped inside, wide-eyed and genuinely impressed. "Wow," he muttered, letting out a low whistle. "Someone really went all out for the 'happy couple.'"
But Monty didn't respond.
He stood frozen, just inside the doorway, staring blankly at the room. His heart was still back at the airport—watching Naina kiss another man. Over and over again, that image replayed in his mind like a haunting film reel.
Romi glanced at him, puzzled. He should be smiling… right? Instead, Monty looked like he had just walked into a funeral.
Assuming that maybe the overly romantic decorations were upsetting him, Romi quickly moved to strip the bed of the cheesy heart-shaped cushions and rose petals. "Okay, okay, i don't like this,"
Monty didn't even blink.
Eventually, both of them changed into their nightwear, climbed into the king-sized bed from opposite sides, and lay in silence. The distance between them was filled with unspoken thoughts and heavy hearts. Not a word passed between them.
Just silence.
And sadness.
Morning.
The warm rays of the sun slipped through the sheer curtains, gently waking Romi. His lashes fluttered open, and the first thing he saw made him stop breathing for a second.
Monty.
Sleeping soundly beside him, his head resting on Romi's forearm. His face was soft and innocent in sleep, and his lips were slightly parted. The raw emotion of last night had vanished, replaced by a peaceful stillness that Romi found unexpectedly… beautiful.
Romi stared for a few seconds longer than he meant to.
He tried to look away, but something about Monty's face held him there.
Then, with a sly smirk forming on his lips, Romi reached for his phone lying just inches away. Slowly, carefully—so as not to wake him—he tilted the camera and snapped a photo.
Click.
In the picture, Romi positioned his face close to Monty's forehead, giving the illusion that he was planting a soft kiss there.
Then, without overthinking it, Romi uploaded it to his social media account.
Caption:
"My wife looks so innocent when she sleeps. 🥺💍💤 #honeymoon #blessed"
And he added it to his story.
The post exploded instantly.
Likes. Comments. Shares. Hearts flying across the screen. Within an hour, the photo was trending.
What Romi didn't realize was how far the photo would travel.
Meanwhile, across the country...
Romi's parents were sipping morning tea on their patio when his father spotted the story.
"Honey," he said, showing the phone to his wife, "look! Romi posted a picture with his… wife."
"Oh my god!" she squealed, adjusting her glasses. "He kissed her forehead! Our son's finally settled down!"
They both smiled like they'd just won the lottery.
But not everyone was smiling.
In another part of the city, Preem and his wife Lalita stared at the same photo. Their faces were pale.
"That can't be…," Preem whispered, anxiety crawling up his spine.
"That's Monty!"
"No, no, no. Something's wrong here," Preem said, pacing now. "We need to find Preety. Fast."
Elsewhere, in a cozy middle-class apartment, a man in his mid-thirties stared at the photo on his phone screen. His jaw clenched. Jealousy flared in his eyes.
He zoomed in on Romi's face.
Then on Monty's.
A cold fury settled over his expression, but before he could process the emotion, his wife called from the kitchen.
"Honey, breakfast's ready!"
He took one last look at the image before locking his phone and walking away silently—his thoughts a storm.
Meanwhile, in a sunlit bedroom wrapped in lavender sheets, Preety lay asleep.
Beside her was a stunning woman with caramel skin, curled up under the blanket. She was wide awake, scrolling on her phone.
And then she saw it.
The photo.
She stared at the image for a long second, her mouth slightly open.
Monty was unmistakable.
But the man beside him—was that Romi?
Her brows furrowed.
She checked the timestamp. The photo had been posted just hours ago.
"Darling," she whispered, shaking Preety's shoulder gently. "Wake up. Something's weird."
Preety blinked awake, rubbing her eyes. "Hmm?"
The girl held out her phone.
"Look."
Preety sat up fast. The moment her eyes landed on the image, her heart skipped a beat.
"That's… Monty," she whispered.
The girl glanced at her in confusion. "Isn't that you in the picture?"
"No," Preety breathed. "That's not me."
She stared at it again.
"That's my brother. And now he's in trouble—because of me."
Suddenly, the weight of secrets and consequences began to feel unbearable.
Preety wrapped her arms around the girl from behind, pulling her close. "Tina," she murmured into her ear, "I think I've dragged Monty into a storm he wasn't ready for."