Book 3 of the Mangoverse
▪︎No matter how good the hero is, he is still a villain in someone's story▪︎
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A story of anti-heroes. Two people with a strong dislike for the world learn to thrive together in an arranged marriage.
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What a life it was when I had enough energy to get up from the bed. Because I sure don't anymore. I haven't started showing yet, but it seems like my child was waiting for me to discover it's existence, so it could make my life miserable. And not just the baby but his/her father also pisses me off at every walking second.
I cracked my eyes open around five minutes ago because I have to pee for the hundredth time. It's not even morning yet. Fucking hell. But I can't get up because the behemoth beside me has started to sleep with his hand over my stomach, as if someone would come and steal the child from inside me, and I don't have enough energy to remove that very hand.
Why is it so heavy?
"Vivaan?"
"Vivaan?"
"VIVAAN!"
"What?! What happened?" Fucking annoying creature. Takes hours to just wake him up. "Get your hand off me. I have to go to the bathroom." He squints at me, still sleepy and gives me a window to finally fucking move. I hate life, I hate him and I hate everybody else.
I do my business, wash my hands and walk out to my husband gone. Great. Now where the fuck did he go? I pull a robe over my nightgown, incase someone else is up as well and then I get out of the room to find the stupid jerk that knocked me up and is now not giving me enough attention.
Piece of shit, who does he think he is, leaving me alone? I move down the stairs taking a detour and going to the kitchen first, because I am snacky. When I don't find anything interesting enough, I glare at the refrigerator for five minutes and then pick up a jar of Nutella. My stomach grumbles and I move around to find a spoon.
"I know baby, I'll feed you. Let me just find something to eat this with."
"Are you talking to yourself?"
"Oh fuck!" I shriek and turn to find just a silhouette in the dark. Oh thank God. Atleast it's not a ghost. Amaira claims that they are apparently real. It seems like Vivaan, almost just as tall.
"No. I am talking to the baby. It's hungry." The man walks closer, and all the alarms in my head ring. The closer he gets, the more I realize that it is infact not my husband.
Just as I open my mouth to scream and push this bitch away, a sharp pain shoots through my neck, and everything goes dark.
🎶
You know how sometimes, when your life is falling apart and you're going through a crisis and you curse and blame everything and everyone? Well I don't have to do that. Because I know exactly who to blame. Vivaan. This is all his fault. If I hadn't married him, I wouldn't be so in love with him. Yeah, I am not in denial or anything. I know I love him and that's his fault.
Also, if he hadn't fucked me so good, I probably wouldn't be pregnant and would have been more capable to get the fucking hell out of this shithole. The useless bulb over my head flickers every few seconds like that in a horror film. And the scraping sound of metal from around tells me that these people are doing this on purpose.
