AUTHOR'S POV

At long last, the women had departed, slipping away into the night aboard their private jet. By the time the aircraft touched down in Sydney, the clock was edging toward noon. Exhausted beyond measure, the women silenced their phones and retired to their shared suites at the luxurious Sunrise Hotel—a five-star establishment co-owned by none other than Veeranshu and Daksh.

After indulging in an extravagant brunch, they retreated to rest: Diya, Raisha, and Aakriti occupied one room; Anvita, Vaishnavi, and Avika settled into another; while Rajshri, Pallavi, and Suhasini took the third. Each woman, wearied from the journey, welcomed the quiet solace of sleep.

Back home, the men had just received confirmation that their wives had arrived safely. Despite the reassurance, a heavy silence loomed over the grand living hall, now empty of staff—the maids having been given the day off. The reason was simple: none of the men wanted witnesses to their collective melancholy.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor, they lamented their loneliness like heartbroken poets.

“She didn’t even call me once,” Vishal muttered, eyes fixated on the lifeless screen of his phone.
“My Daisy forgot all about me,” Abhiraj added with a wistful sigh.