Typed: 10/12/2023
Chapter 12: The Touch
Author's POV:
The honeymoon wasn't until three days later. Yug had picked Manali as their destination after asking Khushi various questions before they got married. One night she got a message from Yug, just after ten, which was unusual because he slept pretty early.
Yug – Summer or winter?
Without thinking twice, she replied, 'winter.' A minute later he messaged.
Yug – Interesting. So, I'm assuming mountains over beach?
Khushi – Without a doubt. Why?
Yug – I'm trying to understand how alike we are.
Khushi – Are we then? Alike?
Yug – I'm yet to come to a conclusion, Miss Lawyer.
Khushi – Let me know when you have an answer Mr. Artist.
Putting both winter and mountain in mind, Yug couldn't think of a better place than Manali. During the winter, when they're expected to get married, Manali would have plentiful of snowfall with opportunities to go skiing, something he couldn't wait to do with Khushi.
It was shortly after the elders had left the house, leaving just the three of them. Harsh ever so respectful, dipped his head, mumbling a goodbye, "I'm thinking of meeting some friends during my leave, so I'm off."
He wasn't meeting anyone, but he was sure he'd go somewhere. After an anxiety-ridden morning, he wanted to leave his brother and sister-in-law to think this through and speak, mending their relationship slowly but steadily.
There was an awkward silence once Harsh had left. Yug mentally cursed him for going. Khushi cleared her throat, making her presence known. Yug automatically looks up. "Hmm." He hums, eyebrows quirked, waiting for her command. "I'm sorry." He wasn't sure what else he was supposed to say.
Her posture was a bit egoistical by nature—something she's been mechanized to do and be because of her profession. It instantly relaxes at his generosity. "I'm sorry too." She's as reflective as he is. "Sorry for not being who you thought I was."
If Yug wasn't so emotionally mature and aware, something which his brother and friends always taunted him for, labeling him as 'old man Yug,' then he would have jumped to the conclusion that Khushi was being narcissistic. But he was emotionally mature, therefore, her honesty, her vulnerability didn't irk him or be misinterpreted by him.
What irked and hurt him was how she felt. All because of him. "Khushi," he breathes her name out, already accustomed to it. So effortlessly he rasps her name. "Don't say that." He reaches out to touch her hand but stops himself, thinking better off it. I have no right to touch her currently.
He pushes his short hair back, as if to find proper—appropriate words to articulate how he feels. "When someone purchases an artwork with the thought of a particular artist in mind," she's intelligent enough to know that her husband speaks with purpose. Not only were his words purposeful and rightly chosen but so were his eyes as he spoke. "The artwork doesn't lose it's value just because another artist had painted it. It's still valuable." He nods at her, zoning out as he watches his reflection on her soil like brown eyes.
Usually, Khushi finds this effect on others like Yug has on her right now. The effect of brain freezes or going speechless. In her professional life, it's all facts and logic, no room for emotions. Emotions that's she's worked so hard on to control and hide to become the advocate that she is. And her husband seemed to embody the emotions she's locked in a room.
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