Trishalini ~ The Jewel of Mahabaleshgarh

32 ~ Anklets

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Abhinandan POV

Marriage is said to be sweet, which lures people to taste it, and the one who has had enough of it warns others not to taste it. I never understood this.

But today, I got the idea of what it meant.

The moment I stepped out of the tent, the sunlight invaded the walls of my eyes. It left me with a disoriented feeling. The eyes of the attendees engaged in their works met mine momentarily, wondering but bothered their Prince that his face looked flushed, shocked, and vulnerable.

But even the Prince could not tell what bothered him at this moment.

What was happening to me?

I immediately palmed my face, unable to believe that in a matter of a week, I was attracted, instead persuaded by her lips, thrice. Three fucking times. I was keen to touch them with mine.

Oh, My fucking goodness! She looked beautiful.

Was she always this beautiful? All the while?

The way her hair spread like the web of comforters, woven into each other, still as separated as the branches of the tree, was eye-holding. I just could not take my eyes off. And, once I was under their shadows when she leant forward, everything disappeared.

Her doe eyes were even bigger at that moment. The way her brows were slightly curled in between and soft at the end was inviting.

Inviting for what?

And, her cheeks.

Oh my goodness, I breathed in deeply, closing my eyes. She looked mesmerising after taking the bath. She had never looked this beautiful. The colour did the magic on her. The yellow was perfect; it complemented her almond tone. It made me notice her cheeks and the mole under her lips.

It would be the death of me, and I could sense it was near.

Was I this person the whole time?

How could I behave so mannerless, so undignified, so out of control?

One moment, I was telling her how much I hated her, and another moment, I was on my knees, waiting for her to look at me the way I was looking at her.

Because I needed her.

I was fucking married to her.

And this trek to the temple made me realise that in no world could we be separated now. The conditions we placed each other before the wedding were utterly foolish. She was mine, and I was hers.

She was my wife now.

We were now like the two corners of the river, meant to flow together and stay together, but I could not shake off the feeling that they would never meet.

The mere thought burnt something in me.

They would never meet because they are bound by the conditions and rules. If we followed the rules and conditions, too, we would always stay together but never meet each other.

And this was not what I wanted when I intended to marry her. I wanted her to be by my side, to be around me, because she gave me peace, a sense of purpose, and a responsibility.

But the condition of the child and our separation thereafter would never give me a sense of peace, purpose, or responsibility.

Rather, it would leave me even more broken.