The first rays of the Hyderabad sun gently kissed the faded cream walls of their small independent house in LB Nagar. It was a beautiful Saturday morning, filled with the promise of new beginnings. Ten days had passed since Ravi and Priya’s passionate tenth anniversary, and life had begun to bloom in ways they had only dreamed of during their many years of careful middle-class budgeting.

Priya woke up first, as was her habit. She lay still for a moment, listening to Ravi’s steady breathing beside her. At 32, she felt a deep contentment wash over her. Her body, soft and curvaceous from years of motherhood and homemaking, was pressed lightly against her husband’s. She carefully slipped out of bed, wearing only a thin white cotton nighty that clung to her full breasts and wide hips.