I zipped up my pants, my eyes fixed on her naked form.She was crying, her legs cramped against her chest as if trying to protect herself from me.Her body shook with sobs, her skin pale and vulnerable.
"Get dressed," I said, my voice low and husky as...
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Swarnalekha's POV
I woke up in my new home, surrounded by familiarity. The room was unchanged, yet everything felt different. Last time I was here, I was the master's bed warmer, now I was the legal wife. The thought still felt surreal.
Unpacking, I stumbled upon Madhav's picture amidst my clothes. I kissed it tenderly before placing it on the bedside table.
As I organized my belongings, I opened the closet and cupboard, only to be greeted by chaos. Clothes were scattered everywhere, and I scrunched my nose in distaste.
A warm bath beckoned. Gathering clothes and towel, I headed to the bathroom, but my footsteps halted at the sight of empty wine bottles stacked inside.
I gasped, my pregnant body tensing.
Kaidan appeared, concern etched on his face."Sorry," he muttered, taking in the mess."I'll send maids to fix the room. You can use the other washroom."
"I'll do it," I said firmly.
He raised an eyebrow.
"You don't like me, so you'll do the opposite just to irritate me," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.
"Better late than never," I replied, "you finally realized the truth."
As I folded clothes, he grasped my hand.
"You're pregnant, carrying my child. You need rest."
"I'm pregnant, not disabled," I countered.
"Fine, but I'll help you. You can't lift a finger."
I shrugged, and together we tidied the room.He didn't let me enter the washroom, carefully cleaning it himself."Go shower, I'll send breakfast," he said.
"I'll eat with dadi and sister," I replied.
He nodded, his eyes lingering on me before he left.For a moment, I wondered if this unexpected help was a gesture of kindness or a strategic move.
Under the shower, I let tears fall, mourning the loss of Madhav. My fingers sprayed on my womb.
"Your father may not be the one I love, but I'll give you all my heart."
After showering, I wrapped myself in a towel and emerged, dressed in a frail red saree. My hair tangled in the towel. I spotted him standing near the table, gazing at Madhav's photoframe.
"Red must be your favorite color," he said, his eyes still fixed on the frame.Then, his gaze drifted to me.
"I wear red often," I replied, "but it is because Madhav liked this colour."
His frown deepened.I moved to the dressing table, avoiding his question.He picked up the sindoor.
"This red would look more beautiful on you."With gentle fingers, he filled my hair parting with the crimson powder.
