Typed: 22/12/2023
Published on 15/03/2024
Chapter 23: Her Husband
Author's POV:
"Last time he came alone, did you know that?" Priya, Akshay's wife says to Khushi.
Khushi has Tisha, Priya's one year old daughter in her lap. She doesn't remove her eyes from the little girl as she speaks, "no, he didn't tell me." She brings her face close to the baby and gently pokes her nose. When the little girl starts jumping in her lap and giggles, Yug makes a face.
"I thought I was her favourite." Since Khushi couldn't accompany Yug the last time he was here for dinner, Priya had invited them over tonight, so she could spend more time getting to know Khushi. The couple had went home after work only to change and then drove over here.
"Obviously, not," Khushi teases, winking at Yug. It's probably the first time she has ever winked at him. Yug doesn't have a comeback because he's no longer thinking about Tisha.
He's come to this realisation that his wife requires time when it comes to opening up. Yes, they're closer than before and both know that they love each other but Khushi has problem showing affection—for valid reasons—so her wink flattered his heart.
"I'm more afraid that Tisha is your favourite person now," there's this mischievous smile lingering in his face. He flicks his gaze from his wife and Tisha to Akshay, "take your daughter away before she takes over my wife." He doesn't wait for Akshay to get up and take his daughter back because Yug does it for him.
A whack on his arm was earned but the house erupted in roaring chuckles as Yug purposefully looked impatient to get the baby away from his wife.
It was nice to see her smile. She does smile but Yug sensed stiffness in her body for the past two days. She's been occupying the study room more than he does, working till late at night, so late that sometimes when she joins him in the bed he's fast asleep. So this was nice. It was nice to see Khushi interacting with his precious friends and taking time off work. It was like a date.
~
They were back home, in their bedroom when Khushi began taking her earrings off. Yug was sitting on the bed, still in his plain black top and blue jeans, watching her reflection on the mirror. "Come here," he muttered slowly. Not only did he take his time uttering the sentence but he said it in a hushed tone, as if still arguing with himself over this.
Khushi was wearing a plain blue sari with a matching blouse that covered most of her back. Despite wishing she wore blouses with designs like Neha does, Khushi prefers not to fulfil her wishes. She turns and walks to him. Halfway towards him, Yug pulls her hand and when she's right in front of him, he shows her a cream.
Khushi takes it from his hand and reads the label. It was a cream—a balm for wounds. Her mouth dries not because she's once again forced to remember what she had endured years ago but because it clearly affects her husband enough to buy her a balm.
Typed on 24/12/2023
"You know it doesn't hurt anymore, right?" She's asking to make sure he's aware of this fact. Yug usually isn't aloof, that much she's sure about. However, she can't tell whether he's being overly sensitive when he sees her scars or oblivious to their non-existent pain.
He stares at her, longingly but slightly confused too. "I'm aware." He says slowly to sound confident and convincing. "Why'd you ask?" The perplexing expression was back in his eyes.
His wife ruffles his hair, smoothing out any tangles. Her lips and eyes both twinkle, "I don't need the balm, Yug" is her gentle reply. It's not her usual tender voice. It's gentler, letting him know that she appreciates it—appreciates him but it's unnecessary. "The cream won't make a difference because it doesn't hurt. Not anymore."
His eyes become moist, afraid of even imagining how much pain she must have endured. He doesn't scrutinize her with his orbs anymore. He's looking down, playing with the cream in his hand, moving from one hand to another. "I just," he trails off. "I wanted to help. To make it better. To make you feel better."
His gesture isn't taken for granted. She knees in front of him, touching his knees and then cupping his right cheek. The warmth of both her heart and hand radiates through her smile. "I always feel better when I'm around you." And she means it.
What she loves, adores and appreciates as well as respects about her husband is how comfortably emotional and tender he is with her. With the rest of the world, Yug is the practical decision maker, famously known right now for firing people and assigning crucial deadlines. But to her, to her he's an unarmed man who has dropped all his weapons to lure her in. Why has he dropped his weapons? Because nobody goes to an armed man, they are a threat.
Putting it wouldn't hurt. So Khushi gets on the bed and faces the mirror, her back to her husband. "Apply it, maybe it'll help fade the scars quicker." But scars don't fade. Marks do. She knows this but it didn't matter because Yug matters.
His eyes don't light up because there's nothing exciting about applying wound-healing cream on your wife's back. There's a small lift in the corner of his mouth, happy that she accepted his gesture.
Yug moves Khushi's hair to her left shoulder, over her heart and begins unbuttoning her blue blouse slowly. His eyes steady on her body, "you have long hair." It's not a question.
Khushi knows what he's implying at. "Yes. And you are correct." He's a smart man. Khushi would never underestimate his intelligence and careful eye. She watches as he opens the lid of the balm, "I have long hair to hide my scars when I wear dress or saree. Although the blouses are usually simple and long but--," she doesn't elaborate.
She sees Yug give her a cult nod, eyes on her back as he gently rubs the balm in his hand, warming it. "You have no reason to hide it. You know that too." He quickly flicks his eyes on the mirror to meet hers before returning to his task. He massaged it into her back, the motions slow and measured, making sure his hand wasn't too hard for her.
Khushi moved slightly with the movement. "I know. I just haven't come to that stage of healing."
Another nod. He won't give her a lecture or tell her how 'it's been over nine years now, you should embrace your scars.' He wouldn't say that. Yug would never say that because healing isn't a process you tick off within a time frame. There's no duration. It's an active cycle. It comes back. And goes. And comes back. The solution is to address it and admit out loud that it exists. And he understands her trauma.
When he applies it close to her waist, he winces quietly and bites his inner cheek, his emotions betraying. "Tisha is adorable." She tries to change the atmosphere and make the room light again.
He nods, "she is." Although his voice is no longer terse, there's a hint of hardness to it. He wants to know more. More about her scars, more about what she felt and dealt with for those dreadful six months but Yug isn't sure whether he could cope with it. Cope with the idea that Samar is alive and walking down the street somewhere in India.
"When you first got the—when you were first injured, who helped you apply the balm?" He is being vigilant with what he says, and with what phrase he uses. Although Khushi doesn't show any hatred for her scars, she doesn't embrace it either. She doesn't accept them as a part of her body because she always covers them, with her hair or her clothes. Yug doesn't blame her. He doesn't judge her. He can't come to a conclusion as to how Khushi should feel towards her scars because they're not his to begin with. He can never say 'I understand' because he doesn't. However, it doesn't stop him from learning how to adapt and live with someone who has trauma.
The Unwanted Bride
I promised not to update this story but I'm so deprived of happiness from law this year that I need a distraction. So here I am, writing whenever I can to have one ounce of distraction.
Still, please do vote. It won't cost you.
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The Unwanted Bride
Romance"Who are you?" At first, I thought he was just being silly. But as I stared at him for a couple of minutes, I could see he wasn't joking or pulling my leg. My heart nearly stopped beating. The guy I had dreamt of spending my whole life with didn't k...
