The Man of my Life

Chapter 20

As the bustling cityscape of New York unfolded before them, Reyansh and Naina, hand in hand, felt the pulse of the city invigorating their spirits. The air was crisp, and the sounds of the city seemed to welcome them with a vibrant embrace. Andrew, the diligent manager of Reyansh's New York branch, approached with a warm, respectful greeting. "Welcome to the Big Apple, Mr. and Mrs. Singhaniya," he said, his voice echoing the city's energy.

Reyansh offered a nod of acknowledgment, the gesture steeped in the quiet confidence of a seasoned businessman. Naina's smile, radiant and genuine, spoke volumes of her excitement. Andrew, ever the attentive host, gathered their luggage with practiced ease. "Sir, the car awaits to escort you to your penthouse," he informed them, his tone suggesting both efficiency and anticipation.

The ride through the city was a tapestry of lights and sounds, and as they settled into the plush seats of the car, Naina's curiosity bubbled to the surface. "You own a penthouse here?" she inquired, her eyes wide with wonder.

Reyansh's response was a gentle shake of the head, a playful dance of denial and revelation. "We own a penthouse?" he corrected, emphasizing the unity of their partnership.

Naina's frown was a fleeting shadow, quickly dispelled by Reyansh's next words. "You are my wife, Naina, and what's mine is equally yours," he declared, his voice a tender affirmation of their shared life.

As they arrived at the penthouse, Andrew's voice crackled through the phone, his professional concern evident. "Sir, may I arrange something for dinner?" he inquired, ready to facilitate their every need.

Naina's response was swift, a testament to her desire to infuse their new beginning with personal touches. "I will prepare it," she insisted, her tone leaving no room for debate. Reyansh's agreement was immediate, his pride in Naina's decision clear. "No, Andrew, my wife will take care of it," he stated, his voice a blend of affection and respect.

In the kitchen, Naina moved with a grace that belied her unfamiliarity with the surroundings, her hands deftly beginning the evening's culinary creation. Meanwhile, Reyansh retreated to the sanctuary of their room, shedding the layers of travel to embrace the summer's warmth. Returning shirtless, he enveloped Naina in an unexpected embrace from behind.

A momentary startle gave way to recognition, and Naina's smile returned, brighter than before. "Someone's in a romantic mood," she teased, her words light and playful.

"Husbands are meant to be romantic, aren't they, baby?" Reyansh's retort was a soft murmur, a whisper of intimacy in the vastness of the city.

The term of endearment hung in the air, a new addition to their shared vocabulary. "Baby?" Naina echoed, a question wrapped in a smile.

A nod, a kiss upon her hair, and the world narrowed to just the two of them, standing in comfortable silence as the scents and sounds of dinner in progress wrapped around them like a blanket.

Dinner came and went, a simple affair made extraordinary by the love that seasoned it. As the night deepened, Naina's yawn punctuated the quiet, a clear sign of the day's toll. "The jet lag is catching up with me," she admitted, her voice tinged with fatigue.

Reyansh's understanding was immediate, his suggestion both practical and considerate. "We'll take it easy tomorrow, rest and recover," he proposed, his concern for her well-being evident.

Agreement was silent but wholehearted as Naina retreated to the comfort of their room, slipping into the soft embrace of nightwear. The bed welcomed them both, a soft expanse that promised rest and respite.

As Reyansh lay beside her, embodying the role of a husband with a natural ease, Naina gravitated towards him, seeking the solace of his presence. Her head found its place upon his chest, a gesture of trust and intimacy.