Mihir's POV
In the evening Mom sent me to Jindal mansion. Since my childhood, that house had been my favorite place to go as my Gaurvi lived there, but today, I didn't want to go there. But I was in such a situation that I could not avoid it even if I wanted to. Her memories were haunting me. Everyone looked very excited to see me there.
The lavish feast laid out by Maurvi Aunty, a harmonious blend of North Indian and Gujarati flavors, spoke volumes of familial warmth and inclusion, a gesture meant to embrace me as one of their own. Despite the genuine hospitality extended towards me, beneath the surface, a torrent of emotions churned - memories of my love lost and the weight of familial expectations intertwined, casting a shadow over the festivities.
Though I indulged in the culinary delights with outward enthusiasm, inwardly, my heart remained heavy with unresolved sentiments. Each smile I offered was a delicate facade, masking the ache of past wounds that lingered just beneath the surface.
As the evening drew to a close, bidding farewell to the comforting embrace of my newfound family, I couldn't shake the sense of disquiet that followed. Stepping into the solitude of the night, accompanied only by the weight of unspoken truths, I grappled with the uncertainty of our shared future.
Upon our return to Shah Mansion, amidst the flurry of activity, I found myself wrestling with conflicting emotions. Maurvi Aunty's thoughtful gesture of sending gifts for my family members tugged at my heartstrings, a reminder of the ties that bound us together, even amidst the complexities of our relationship.
I saw servants coming to keep her stuff in my room one by one. Why the hell did she get so many things?
In the privacy of our shared space, the tension between us hung palpably in the air.
I sat down on the bed to relax for some time. While she changed her dress and wore a night suit that covered her from her chin to toe. It was better this way. At least her half-naked or seductive images would not make me more uneasy than I already was.
She was unpacking her stuff, the sight of her delicate blush and the carefully arranged belongings spoke volumes about her nature.
She was a nice girl but I loved her sister, not her. It felt awkward to be here in this room having her as my wife.
I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt at the way I was behaving with her. Her vulnerability lay bare before me, a stark reminder of the walls I had erected around my own heart.
Yet, amidst her excitement, I decided to change into my nightwear and get comfortable. So I got up but a sudden movement by her halted me in my tracks. She opened a box and as she must have felt my presence looming over her, she closed it immediately looking a mixture of embarrassment and discomfort.
She got up in haste carrying that box, stumbled upon another box, and fell on me. The box she was carrying fell on the floor and a cascade of intimate apparel spilled from the confines of the box, in full display. The embarrassment flooded her cheeks, and I instinctively averted my gaze.
My sudden anger pierced the air, as I thought that she had bought all of them to seduce me to get our relationship normal like any newlywed couple.
How dare she plan all that?? I could not allow her to do that so I accused her of saying hurting words.
Amidst the chaos, a solitary card fluttered to the ground, revealing a glimmer of truth amidst the turmoil, that it was gifted to her by Mohit uncle and she was not even aware of it.
My initial anger gave way to a begrudging realization - perhaps there was more to her than I could see, a complexity I had yet to fully grasp.
Caught in the intricacies of emotions, I saw that she fumbled to conceal the note, a fleeting glimpse of her inner turmoil pierced through the veils of pretense we had draped over our relationship. I took the note and after reading it I realized that she had not planned anything that I had accused her of, it was a gift from our ever-naughty Mohit uncle.
My gaze lingered on her, and though the truth lay bare before us, I couldn't bring myself to apologize for being so rude and accusing her. Instead, I watched in silence as she retreated into the sanctuary of the wardrobe with a heavy heart and a silent sigh, she wiped her eyes.
As night descended upon us, I found myself tied in the tendrils of exhaustion, my resolve to sleep on the couch was waning with each passing moment. I just wanted to sleep on my soft and comfortable bed, not on that couch. I could not sleep last night and today as her stuff was lying on the couch, I could not sleep there but didn't want to tell her to hurry up after the way I behaved with her.
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