Morning light found the bruises darker than they had been in the shower. Priya stood naked in front of the full-length mirror while Rajesh finished dressing behind her, the soft undersides of her breasts carrying a vivid map of bites and finger-marks that stood out against her fair skin in deep violet and the first hints of yellow at the edges. She watched his reflection as he moved around the room, knotting his tie, checking his phone, speaking absently about the week’s meetings. His eyes passed over her body the way they always had—appreciative, familiar, unhurried. They did not pause on the marks. He stepped close, cupped one heavy breast in passing, and pressed a distracted kiss to the side of her neck. His thumb brushed directly across a dark bruise. He did not notice the way her breath caught or the faint fresh bead of milk that formed at the nipple under the casual pressure.

“Have a good day,” he said, and left for the bank.