His Unwilling Bride | COMPLETED ✓

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RABYA

"This place is so beautiful." I exclaimed, looking around.

The restaurant isn't that fancy. It's rather cosy and with less crowd, spacious and comforting vibe in here is something to admire. The vintage lightings and dusky shade of the ambience is like an old school aesthetics. No wonder why Adhrit chose this place for our date.

There's this thing about him that captivates me. He owns good amount of wealth, the kind of wealth where people flaunts their money infront of the world. And when it comes to partner, everyone wishes to impress them but I've never seen Adhrit doing this. He never flaunted his money infront of me to impress me.

It's a minute detail about him but these little things make him stand apart in the crowd.

He could've taken me to some luxurious restaurant but rather he chose this small eatery for us. This is our first official date yet he didn't do anything lavish instead we're sitting at this place where I feel comfortable and homely.

Is it okay for me to feel that I'm liking this man everyday even more than before?

I've read so many books, all the informations that I gathered, the things that excite me, every single thing feels insignificant infront of him. The way he interests me, I doubt I've been intrested in anything like this before.

It's weird how I want to do all those things for him that I was never fond of. I'm not good at cooking, I've basic surving skills but the food never tastes divine. Also, my love language isn't cooking. Maa used to make delicious food for us, it was her way of showing the affection towards us. But, now I want to cook for him too. I want to make his favourite dish that reminds him of his mother.

"Adhrit, tell me more about your childhood." I said when he was looking through the menu. "All those happy memories that you shared with your mother." I added.

He told the waiter about our orders then smiled, softly. "I enjoyed eating daal roti. She used to make these small chapatis for me on the charcoal stove while I sat next to her watching the flames cooking those chapatis. She would squeeze the lemon in my daal and I used to eat it with her hands. My taste buds grew habitual of it and then one day, we had gone to a relative's place for a marriage ceremony. It was summer's evening and she was busy with other women in various chores. I was hungry and asked her for food, she served me the daal and chapatis and then went back to continuing her work. The food didn't taste the same to me without lemon, so I asked her for it but there was no lemon left at that moment. I became furious and started screaming. For next couple of hours, I screamed so much that I had a sore throat. Later, someone took me to the nearest farm field and I plucked lemons for myself. I was quite young, hardly of four or five years and  I still think of that particular moment. I wonder how much I must've embarrassed her in front of everyone? But she didn't even scold me for it."

"You screamed on top of your lungs just for the lemon?” I raised my brows.

He shrugged and then chuckled, shyly. “Lemon was just an excuse. I was irritated because she was ignoring me. She was busy with other things and I wanted her attention.”

I captured his smiling face to my heart and the amount of satisfaction it gave me to see him like this, I don't think I'd be able to describe it.