I am his Bride... { an Indian BL saga }

Ashtamangala (Part 1)

Divyansh's nerves started to fray as the days passed. It was finally Friday, and his bags were sparsely packed. He did not own many sarees, the only clothing he was allowed. The weight of his sindoor felt heavier now that he was returning to his parental home. His mind was plagued with questions: Would his parents let him in his room? Would they even allow him inside? Would his ruse last this trip?

As Divyansh came down the stairs, his things packed into a backpack, he found Arthit waiting for him in front of the door. His brother-in-law had grown pretty close to decoding him. He touched the feet of all the elders in the house before going to the 20-year-old.

Arthit smiled sweetly at him, "Bhabi, have a safe trip, okay?"

Divyansh gave him a smile of his own, "Ji devarji.. aap bhi dhyaan rakhiyega khudka."

"Ji zaroor.."

He went to the car that was already waiting for them. Ashwin was sitting inside, browsing something on his iPad. Out of innate curiosity, Divyansh tried to sneak a peek.

"Aap kya dekh rahe hai?" Divyansh asked, curious.

Ashwin quickly put the iPad away, "Mind your own business."

Divyansh pursed his lips, stopping himself from speaking and estranging his husband any further. He looked out of the window instead.

Ashwin glanced at her for a moment, then started the engine. "Put on your seatbelt. I don't want you to die in my car." He pulled out of the driveway.

Divyansh struggled to put on his seatbelt, finding it difficult with his saree.

Ashwin drove while looking at the sceneries, trying to capture them in the roll of his mind's camera for some inspiration for his paintings. He had been enough annoyed from the past few weeks about his family sabotaging his dreams, but his irritation peaked when he saw his in-laws standing at the entrance. "These greedy people are behind my father's business share and all," he muttered to himself.

Divyansh's face lost all traces of peace and joy as he saw his parents. Forcing on a fake smile, he opened the seatbelt, got out, and took out their bags, as they had packed separately. "Chale?"

"Hmm." Ashwin got out and took his own bag.

Divyansh scurried after him, not eager to be left behind with his parents. He could see the fake smile on his parents' faces, how those money mongers were after his inheritance. Mr. Malhotra, his father and the CEO of Malhotra Textiles, shot him a glare.

"Tum kyun Ashwin se bag uthwa rahi ho?" Deepak asked Divya in a steely voice.

"I can carry my own bags," Ashwin replied irritably, done with all the rituals. Now he had to endure another one, seeing his mother-in-law standing there with an aarti thali.

The conversation ended with Mrs. Malhotra coming up with the aarti thali to fulfill the rituals. There were countless rituals, but Divyansh was thankful that his guests had come, eaten, and left quickly. Soon, amidst the rituals, it was time for lunch.

"Damad ji, thoda aur lejiye," Sheila said, piling up food on his plate with a sickly sweet smile.

Ashwin noticed Divya's plate had only a spoonful of rice and curry in it. "Stop! It's enough!"

"Arre damad ji, yahi toh khaane ki umar hai! Lijiye thoda aur?" Mr. Malhotra tried to be a good father-in-law, having failed to even pass as a father.

"Damad ji, aapko aur kuch chahiye?" Sheila picked up another dish to serve him.

Divyansh slowly ate his portion, keeping his head down as if eating slowly would make the food appear more.

Ashwin picked up his plate and transferred half of the food to Divya's plate. "Khao."

Divyansh looked up at him, scared. "Y-yeh.. aap.."

"Chup chap khana khao," Ashwin said in a low, cold tone so Divya's parents wouldn't hear.

Divyansh shut up and ate quietly, feeling his parents' warm gaze boring holes into him. Maybe even God didn't know what predicament awaited him after this.

Mr. Malhotra petted her hair, saying jovially, "Divya beta, lunch ke baad mere room main aana. Papa ko tumse thodi baat karni hai." The smile he gave the boy was enough to give him frostbite.

Ashwin did not talk to him throughout lunch after that incident. After the meal, the painter excused himself to stroll in the garden, while Divyansh forced himself into his father's room, heart in his throat. He was scared and frightened that the love he had received in the past seven days would be taken away in less than seven seconds. Mr. Malhotra, ever the businessman, was sitting on his chair, one leg crossed elegantly over the other.

"Tumhare sasural waalo ko pata hai, tum ladke ho?" Mr. Malhotra asked coldly.

Divyansh shook his head. "Nahi."

"I thought so too, bitch!" Mr. Malhotra threw some papers at him. "Kya likha hai, padh!"

Divyansh bent down and collected the papers, starting to read with a shaky voice at the line that was marked with a highlighter. "T-the transfer o-of shares w-will be finalized a-after the c-confirmation of the f-first heir to the Ahuja f-family is c-conceived." He looked up at his father with eyes full of dread. "Y-yeh kaise ho sakta hai?!"

Mr. Malhotra strode up to him and grabbed his hair, which came loose from the messy bun Divyansh had forced it into. "Those bloody Ahujas cheated me!" He sneered in his face. "And look at their son, being so lovey-dovey with you! Fucking Laila-Majnu!" He shook him by the hair.

Ashwin was returning to Divya's room after roaming around in the garden when he heard loud voices coming from Divya's parents' room. He remembered Divya went there to talk with her father, so he went to check if she was in any kind of trouble, as he never felt at ease with his in-laws.

"P-papa! Hurts!" Divyansh cried, nearly in tears, his scalp burning from the force.

Ashwin stopped at the doorway, listening.

"Good! It should hurt!" Mr. Malhotra shouted. "You good for nothing, bitch! Such a useless bitch I wasted millions on!" He raised his hand to slap him.

Divyansh closed his eyes, flinching. Abuse was more common for him than he liked to admit, but his only thought was how he would hide his bruises from Ashwin or give him plausible excuses.

Ashwin marched inside with steady, long steps and stood between Divya and her father, holding Mr. Malhotra's hand mid-swing. "Don't you dare touch MY wife!" he said in a dark, cold voice.

Divyansh opened his eyes, savoring the view of his savior. Why was this man trying to make him fall for him? He held Ashwin's shirt at the waist, hiding completely behind his back.

Mr. Malhotra shot him a frustrated look. "Mr. Ahuja, I'd prefer you do not indulge in our family discussions."

"Your family discussion?" Ashwin replied, his voice tinged with passive aggression. "Sir, I guess you are forgetting that now Divya is my wife, hence my family, not yours!" He released Mr. Malhotra's hand with a jerk.

Divyansh's heart swelled when the Ahuja heir said he belonged to "His family." That was what he had been yearning for—a family to call his own.

Ashwin held Divyansh's hand that was clutching his shirt and pulled him out of the room, ignoring the look his father-in-law was giving him. "Which room is yours?" he asked once they were outside the room.

Struck in a dilemma, the 18 year old weighed his options.  Divyansh knew that he should have led his husband to his sister's room, but his feet took him to his own. "Y-yeh hai," he said, opening the door for Ashwin.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I'm so sorry for being gone so long. I took up so many recent projects that I forgot this story even existed.. 

Immense thanks to PriyaRout0 who is my co-writer now, in helping with the plot and dialogues. Without her, I would have had to abandon this beautiful story of mine.

Enjoy, Adiraj!