Chronicles Of My Darling Husband | ✓

94. Kumud (Part 4)

Follow me on Instagram for story-related updates, some creative content and to rant your heart out - handle is- suganthii.writes

--

With a gentle reverence, he kissed her wrist, the touch sending a jolt through her. "The very first time I laid eyes on you, those very lips you now bite, was three years, five months, and fourteen days ago." His arm encircled her waist, pulling her closer.

She gasped at the sudden intimacy.

"Ever since that moment," he continued, his voice laced with a raw emotion that resonated deep within her soul, "you've haunted my dreams, the only place where I felt truly whole."

"Wh-what?" she stammered, her mind reeling. His words were surreal, especially with his lips hovering just a breath away from hers.

His forehead dipped down, resting against hers, the contact a mere whisper. With his eyes closed, he spoke, his voice barely above a sigh. "There have been nights, oh Nishita, so many nights where I couldn't bear the distance, nights I denied reality, clinging to sleep in the hope of seeing you again. You filled my heart to bursting, I died every morning when I woke up with no hope of seeing you ever until night embraced me again."

"Jagdish..."

He pulled back a little, his gaze lingering on her face. He studied every curve, every blink of her eyes. A hint of worry softened the intensity of his gaze. "It's overwhelming, isn't it?" he acknowledged. "That's why I don't want to rush things. I don't want your feelings to be simply a reflection of mine, but a choice, a blossoming that stems from the truth within your own heart." A tender smile curved his lips. "My dear Nishita, you shouldn't force yourself into something you don't understand."

She found herself speechless, captivated by the raw vulnerability etched on his face, the emotions shimmering in his eyes.

Taking her face in his hands, his touch warm and gentle, he spoke, his voice firm yet laced with a quiet determination. "You, my love, deserve more than just the bare minimum; you deserve the entire universe, and I vow to spend every waking moment placing it at your feet."

He leaned in, his breath tickling her forehead, and placed a feather-light kiss there. "Nishita," he murmured. "I love you. But please, don't love me just for the sake of it. I wanted to confess this tonight, just like a Kumud would grace its love in the night as I couldn't stop myself from keeping this locked inside my heart any longer."

--

She could barely comprehend the torrent of words he had just poured out, except for one thing—love. This man loved her deeply and had been harboring these feelings for so long, unbeknownst to her.

It was overwhelming, too much to absorb, but one thing was clear: he was incredibly good to her, allowing her to be herself without forcing his love upon her, making her feel guilty, or even asking for the slightest reciprocation of affection. No, he wanted none of that. Here he was, baring his heart and confessing his pure, unrequited love, willing to let her reject him if she didn't feel the same, and he did all of this on their wedding night! His vulnerability and sincerity were both astonishing and profoundly moving.

But...

Love. Did she love him?

It was too soon to tell.

She knew she liked him, probably trusted him more than she cared to admit, and held a deep respect for his principles and integrity. But love? That was an entirely different matter. Why couldn't she just say yes and make him happy? Because it wasn't in her nature to lie, and she wouldn't deceive this man who would wait for her forever. She knew she would despise herself for lying to him. No, she wouldn't punish him that way.

As he said, she wouldn't rush into love, absolutely not. Because she, Nishita Pandit, could never submit merely to please someone, and as Nishita Jagdish Singh, she wouldn't submit at any cost. She was the wife of Jagdish, and she would only do what was right, upholding his ideals and their shared values. Nishita was determined to honor their union with sincerity, ensuring that any love she offered would be genuine and deeply felt.

But at that moment, she knew exactly what she wanted, and she had no reason to hesitate for it.

--

A/N

Okay, that was a bit emotional.

Interestingly, I didn't cry as much while writing this confession compared to Xavier's. Am I biased in comparing my male leads' confessions? Perhaps. Writing Xavier's confession was such an emotional task for me; I felt overwhelmed, often needing breaks to gather myself—closing my laptop, sipping water, and taking walks to calm down before continuing. But with this one, I wrote straight through. Though I felt emotional and shed a few tears, I kept writing. Maybe I'm developing a bit of a stone-hearted side. Who knows, hehe.

I suppose it's about the characters themselves. Xavier is naturally passionate and expressive, whereas Jagdish keeps his emotions guarded inside. I remember Krishna's confession being equally challenging to write eight years ago. So, I conclude I'm not stone-hearted; it's just the nature of my character. Although now I'm dreading the day I have to write Chandrakant's confession. Goodness, why do I keep subjecting myself to these emotional dramas?

"Tere Bin" is such a beautiful song, gosh, Sonu Nigam and Shreya Ghoshal are Bhagwaan but Shantanu Moitra is the darling who makes such gems. Devmanus hai sab. I couldn't find a better song for this chapter. *happy noises*

Vote share COMMMEENT!