Poles Apart

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Warning: long and unedited chapter ahead.

Arjun

I walk into our room, ready to be faced with the sight of Arvi getting dressed for dinner, seeing that it's already 6:30 and we need to be at the Chetti's house by 7:30, latest.

However, I open the door to my wife cocooned in a blanket, her messy hair sprawled over the pillow she lay on.

I can't help but awe at the sight. Arvi usually wakes up at the slightest of sounds. Unlike me, she's a light sleeper.

She must be really tired if she hasn't woken up even after I entered the room, with the door opening and closing; it clicks really loud.

Maybe I shouldn't have kept her awake for a major part of the night.

But can you blame a deprived man for indulging a willing woman? His hot as fuck, sexy wife at that? I wouldn't.

I pad over to Arvi, successful at not making a sound, and kneel next to the bed, observing her sleeping form.

I wonder if I should wake her up, but she'd hardly gotten any sleep last night and she'd also had to wake up early for the meeting this morning.

Making a mental note to ask her about how the meeting went, I kiss her forehead, choosing to let her sleep until I finish showering.

Shrugging my coat off, I proceed to remove my socks and undo my tie before stepping into the bathroom.

By the time I'm back, Arvi is awake and staring at the painting that we got as a wedding gift from Sameeksha.

"Morning, sleepy beauty," I greet, tightening the towel around my waist before walking over to her.

Arvi looks at me and blinks a couple of times, before looking back at the painting. "Why haven't we ever danced after our sangeet?"

I chuckle, not masking my amusement. "I thought you don't like to dance?" I question her, before continuing to tease, "or is it just an excuse to get out of dancing with me?"

"Nah, I really don't like to dance," she says, lifting herself to rest against the headboard. "What's the time?" she asks, hiding a yawn behind her palm.

"6:50."

Arvi's eyes widen and she turns to look at the balcony. "It's late!" she exclaims, pushing the blanket off herself. "I thought I'd wake up when you got home. And it's so late!"

"Hey, I got home very early because you told me we were to go out for dinner," I defend myself.

"Yes, you did," she agrees. "Thank you. But can you please pick out my clothes for me? I'm going to take a shower."

"Me?" I point to myself.

"Yes!" Arvi utters, pulling her long hair into a bun. "Is there someone else in the room?"

"No." I try to rephrase so that she knows exactly what she's asking me to do. "You're asking me to pick out clothes for you? You'll wear whatever I lay out for you?"

"Isn't that what I've been saying?" Arvi asks, rushing to pick up a towel. "What is up with you?"

I shrug. "Just making sure you know."

Arvi shakes her head, muttering something to herself as she enters the bathroom.

I walk into the closet and throw on a polo tee and jeans before taking to examine all of Arvi's clothes.

Not wanting to face my wife's wrath, I look for clothes that may be appropriate for dinner.

She looks her best in a saree, her maturity complimenting the fabric and her confidence radiating through the folds of the lengthy material. Modest, yet enticing, and the look on her face every time she manages to drape one around herself successfully. But it would take her some time to wear one now.