• • • Indian Arranged Marriage • • •
~ You're the peace I crave in this chaotic world. ~
He was three, when he held her little finger for the first time. He didn't know, what future held for them. But he did know that he wanted to hold onto this lit...
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I keep glaring at my husband and the two sassy pets, we call kids. All three of them sprawled out on the closet floor. Sahil has his phone in hand and that's why his arms are in air, but Coco and Oreo have their paws in air for no reason at all. "Coco. Oreo. Stop flashing your privates. What is this ungentlemanly behavior? No wonder you two don't have any female friends." I scold the two dum dums. They ignore my words and keep looking at the ceiling growling something at the back of their throats, talking to each other or themselves, God knows.
"Sahil." I call out softly. "Sahil." Then I scream, the phone falls down on his face and he looks at me scared. "Haan baby bol toh." My husband gulps looking at my face. I look down at the luggage bags. "I'll help you, just give me five." He shows me his palm before looking back in the phone, this time laying sideways.
"I already set everything. You just need to put the bags away." I say heading out of the closet. Coco and Oreo behind me in a second. Not even twenty days of being married and my husband is showing all his true colors. First, he woke us all up at freaking five in the morning because he didn't want to waste his precious Sunday being in traffic. We started traveling all the way from Lonavala to back home at 6am, the fluffing blasphemy! We dropped everyone and reached home in the last, after getting Coco and Oreo from Hood's place-- who's still pissed at Princess Sahdev for waking him up at 9am on a Sunday morning. Then I thought to finally put back our honeymoon luggage, to which my husband said he'll help me. That was an hour ago, I set all our stuff, and he scrolled through his phone.
Shaking head my husband's antics, I head to the kitchen. 11:39. I'm hungry and our staff is on leave. Aloo paratha, it is. Coco and Oreo sit on the couch gazing at me while I start getting ingredients out. Washing and peeling the potatoes, I put them in the pressure cooker and start to knead the dough. My husband comes when I'm done with the dough and waiting for the pressure to be released from the cooker. "Leave, I'll do it." He takes the knife and onion away from me.
"Kar rahi hoon na main!" I snarl, he quickly pulls back his hand. "Yaar dara mat tu aise." He says keeping a hand on his chest. I ignore him and focus on peeling the onion. "I'll chop this, you check on the potatoes." He swiftly takes the knife and chopping board towards his side. I let him and head to check on the potatoes while he chops onion, green chilies and some coriander leaves. When I'm mashing the potatoes, he suddenly comes behind me and picks me up making me squeal. He sets me on the kitchen island. "Just sit here, okay? Cooking is my department." He says brushing our noses together and also stealing a smooch. I don't melt with his sweet words. I have been trying to get his attention for two hours, but that fluffing device was important, now I'm in my tantrum throwing mood.
I sit back comfortably, watching him cook for us. When our parathas are ready, he serves them in a plate with my favorite mango pickle and curd for himself. He returns after putting the plate on the coffee table. I go to jump down the island, but he takes me in his arms instead, making me wrap legs around his waist and arms around his neck, he kisses my collarbone walking us to the couch. We both settle down on it and he starts to scroll through Netflix trying to find something to watch. I blow air on the first bite and feed him and then myself while he continues his search. We finish our lunch the same way-- me feeding him and him trying to find something to watch. I leave him to it and head back in the kitchen to clean the dishes and platform.
