Dons of Punjab: Fluke of Reality✔️

Chapter 30

Prabhneet Kaur Aulakh

As I made my way down the grand staircase, the sound of laughter and tiny footsteps echoed through the house. My nephews were running wildly around the living room, their faces lit up with excitement as they dodged and chased each other. Their fathers, my jije, joined in, cheering them on, making the game even more chaotic. Meanwhile, my sisters were sprawled out on the large sectional couch, their eyes glued to the television, lost in some over-the-top drama serial.

I sighed, shaking my head at the familiar scene. This was home, my safe space, the only place where I felt like myself.

I walked over to the couch and plopped down beside Gunu didi, resting my head against her shoulder. She turned to me, her brows raised in curiosity. "Did he say anything?" she asked, referring to my so-called husband, Aman.

I shrugged, trying to sound as indifferent as possible. "I haven't even spoken to him yet. He's still asleep," I said, rolling my eyes.

It had only been a day since the wedding, but I already felt exhausted. Not from the ceremonies or the endless congratulations, but from the very idea of being married to Aman. The thought of sharing my life with him felt strange, almost unreal. I hadn't wanted this. Not him. Not any of this.

My sisters exchanged glances, but before anyone could say anything, I was suddenly tackled by a stampede of tiny bodies. My nephews, full of endless energy, pounced on me like a pack of wild animals. One landed on my lap, another on my back, and a third wrapped his arms around my neck.

"Massiiii!" they screamed, giggling as they tried to wrestle me down.

"Ugh! Get off me, you elephants!" I groaned, trying to pry them off, but they clung on tighter, giggling even more.

My jije saw what was happening and, instead of helping, they joined in, piling onto the already chaotic mess. I felt like I was being buried alive under a mountain of overgrown children and overgrown men who thought they were still boys.

"You guys are the worst!" I huffed, wiggling under the weight of my nephews and jije. My sisters, instead of rescuing me, burst into laughter. Gunu didi clapped her hands, thoroughly enjoying my suffering.

"You deserve this," she teased. "You always spoil them. This is payback."

Just when I thought I couldn't take any more, I heard a voice from the top of the stairs.

"What's going on here?" Aman's voice rang through the house.

Great. Just great. As if my day wasn't bad enough already.

I didn't even have to look up to know he was smirking. That annoying, cocky smirk he always had. I rolled my eyes, my mood souring even more.

"Oh, here comes the hero," I muttered under my breath.

Aman walked down the stairs at a leisurely pace, hands in his pockets, his face full of amusement as he took in the scene. "Looks like my wife is getting beaten up on her first day back home. Should I step in and save her?" he asked, his voice dripping with fake concern.

I glared at him. "Don't bother. I'd rather deal with them than you."

My sisters giggled, while my jije exchanged knowing looks. Aman simply chuckled, shaking his head. "Suit yourself."

Ignoring him completely, I turned back to my nephews. "Alright, little monsters, if you don't get off me in three seconds, no ice cream for a week."

The effect was immediate. They gasped dramatically before scrambling off me, their faces full of horror. "Nooo, Massi! We were just playing!"

I smirked, victorious. "That's what I thought. Now, go bother your fathers."

They ran off, their giggles filling the room once more. I dusted myself off, still ignoring Aman's presence, and nestled back into the couch, letting out a sigh of relief.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of laughter and games. I spent my time with my nephews and sisters, cherishing the comfort they brought me. Aman? He was nothing more than a shadow in the background, an unwanted presence in a house filled with love. I made sure to keep my distance, my heart set on pretending he wasn't there.

As the evening approached, I found myself wondering if I would ever feel differently. If Aman and I would ever be more than strangers forced into marriage. But for now, I pushed the thought away, choosing to hold onto the warmth of my family instead of the cold reality of my marriage.

As the day continued, the house was filled with warmth and laughter, but none of it was because of Aman. I had successfully avoided him, surrounding myself with my sisters and nephews, who made sure I never had a dull moment. Every time I caught a glimpse of Aman in the background, casually talking to my brother-in-laws or checking his phone, my stomach twisted in irritation.

Why did he have to be here? Why did I have to be married to him?

"Massi!" Mehtaab tugged at my dupatta, his bright eyes filled with excitement. "Come play with us!"

I smiled at him, pushing aside my thoughts. "What game are we playing?"

"Hide and seek!"

"Perfect," I grinned. "I'll hide so well, no one will find me!"

The kids cheered as I ran off to find a hiding spot. I ducked behind the long curtains near the staircase, holding my breath as I heard the boys start counting.

"One... two... three..."

I could hear my sisters laughing in the background, teasing the kids about how terrible they were at counting. Just as I was starting to enjoy the moment, I heard slow, deliberate footsteps approach me.

I froze.

The curtain shifted slightly, and before I could react, a voice whispered, "You really think you can hide from me, Prabh?"

My whole body tensed. I knew that voice. That annoying, smug voice.

Aman.

I turned my head slightly and found him leaning against the wall, arms crossed, looking down at me with an irritating smirk.

"Get lost," I muttered, adjusting my dupatta and preparing to move.

But he didn't budge. "What are you so busy running from? Me?"

I scoffed, keeping my voice low. "Don't flatter yourself. I'm playing with the kids. Unlike you, I actually enjoy spending time with my family."

His smirk didn't waver. "You mean avoiding your husband?"

My jaw clenched. "You are not my husband in any way that matters."

Something flickered in his eyes, but before he could respond, the sound of little feet rushing toward us made me step away.

"Found you, Massi!" The boys squealed in excitement, grabbing onto my arms.

I smiled down at them, ignoring Aman entirely. "Ah! You got me! Now it's my turn to find you!"

The kids giggled and ran off, but Aman didn't move. He was still watching me.

"What?" I snapped, finally turning to him.

He let out a low chuckle. "Nothing. Just enjoying the view of my lovely wife."

My blood boiled. "Stop calling me that."

His smirk deepened, and he leaned in slightly. "Why? It's the truth, isn't it?"

I stepped back, my fingers curling into fists. "Just because we're married on paper doesn't mean I have to accept you."

His face darkened slightly, but before he could say anything else, my sister's voice called out, "Prabh! Come help me in the kitchen!"

I didn't hesitate. I turned on my heel and walked away without another glance at Aman, leaving him standing there alone.

For the rest of the evening, I made sure to keep myself occupied—helping in the kitchen, playing with the kids, chatting with my sisters. Anything to make sure I didn't have to deal with him.

But every time I looked up, I could feel his eyes on me. Watching. Waiting.

And I hated it.