Solace

|42|finding solace

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NIDHI

My slumber was almost on the cusp of breaking, when I felt the gentle rustling of sheets and a soft caress of skin on my forehead. And then it stopped, prompting me to drift into a deep slumber once again.

I'm unsure how much time passed, but I felt subtle movements around me, followed by another gentle touch on my forehead, this time more tender. I opened my eyes, blinking away the sleep, and heard my husband's warm voice.

"

Good morning," he said, his smile radiant. I smiled back, rising and discreetly covering my chest, not wanting to make either of us uncomfortable. A few days prior, I tried sleeping with my bra on, but it didn't help, so here I was, back to our usual routine.

My gaze wandered to the digital clock; it showed 6:05. Then, my eyes met my husband's; he looked refreshed.

"You woke up early," I remarked, sitting up straight and folding my legs, which were beside him.

"Hmm, 5 'o' clock, " he replied, handing me a cup of tea. I was surprised and delighted; this was the first time in my life someone was giving me bed tea.

"Thank you," I said, tucking my hair, which was undoubtedly a mess. I took a sip of tea; it tasted lovely, different but lovely.

"Let's sit in the balcony," he suggested, rising. "I have to go downstairs to prepare breakfast," I said, still rising.

"I've asked Rupa to come here, let her know what to make," he said, sliding the balcony door open. The sunny day was breathtaking.

"Anyway, it's upma for breakfast, and I guess even if Sanjeev Kapoor makes upma, I still wouldn't enjoy it," he joked, sitting on the three-seater sofa in the balcony. I chuckled at his words; he patted the space beside him, and I sat down silently.

"You shouldn't declare your dislike so openly, or next time you speak to me rudely, I'll declare the day as Upma day," I teased, and he chuckled.

"That depends; I have other options too," he said, taking a sip of his coffee.

"What options?" I asked. "Well, like leaving early and having pav bhaji for breakfast, then eating south Indian lunch, and coming late and having dinner outside," he said; I looked at him, more like a playful glare, and his sister thinks he's innocent.

"I'm going," I said, rising; he laughed and pulled me close, holding my arm; my bare arm fully brushed against his.

"I was joking; I'll accept my punishment like a good husband," he said.

"I still regret speaking to you that way; I was stressed, had many meetings, and...," he trailed off.

"And you didn't get proper sleep," I completed; we arrived very late that night.