SHE WAS NEVER MINE

12.

Anushka's POV:~

Four bedrooms, a spacious hall, a well-equipped kitchen, and a beautiful garden outside – more than enough for one person to live in. This house is undeniably beautiful, but being all alone here sucks.

I can't help but wonder how Virat managed to stay here all alone for so long. Perhaps that's why he tends to keep to himself, maintaining a quiet and solitary existence.

This place feels emptier without him. When he's home, there's always activity. He might experiment with new recipes in the kitchen or take a walk in the garden with his Punjabi music playing. He consistently checks in on me, asking if I need anything. During India matches, we watch together, and other times, he always ask my preferences. Even though we've only had a week together after our marriage, he's been incredibly attentive and caring.

He brings life to this place, and without him, it feels like a ghost town.

But tomorrow, he's coming home.

And, true to his promise, he secured yet another century today.

Yet, I need to clear the misunderstanding between us. I don't know why, but him being upset with me makes me profoundly sad.

My stomach growls, signaling hunger. I tried to cook something for myself, but I burned the entire dish twice. If I attempted a third time, I might burn down the entire house.

Oh God, my stomach is growling again!

I get up from the bed and decide to go downstairs to the kitchen. I know the kitchen is as empty as my stomach, but it's better to check. I can't sleep when I'm hungry.

As I open the door, the fragrance feels different, a hint of lavender. I love this smell, but how does it smell like this?

I descend the stairs and notice a faint light in the hall. Is someone at home? Did I forget to lock the door?

Oh God!

I move downstairs slowly, and there are scented candles illuminating the hall. I see someone walking around in the dim light, and the shadow is familiar.

It's him.

"Virat!" I whisper. He turns around, and in the candlelight, a smile appears on his face as I call out to him.

I smile.

He has lit candles arranged in the shape of the word 'sorry,' currently lighting up the 'Y.'

"So sorry if I woke you up," he sounds apologetic.

"Nah, that's fine. I was already up," my eyes fall on the table he was decorating. There's a small cake with the word 'sorry' written on it and some flowers.

White roses, my favourite!

"You did all this?" I sit down to get a closer look, looking up at him with a smile.

"Yeah!" He sits down with me, and we stay quiet for some time until he speaks again.

"Anushka, I am so sorry for the other day. I didn't mean to talk to you like that, and sorry I didn't hear you out at that time," he sighs, looking down in disappointment.

"You believe what you heard, Virat. I would have the same reaction if I were in your place. Don't worry; I understand," I reassure him, and he looks at me, to which I nod.

"Thank you, Sharma," I chuckle at his words. "But tell me what happened?" I sigh.

"Someone hacked my email and wrote that fake report, sending it to the editor," I explain the whole story, and he listens carefully.