Aarushi :The Runaway Bride

Chapter 39

                              A A R U S H I
   

"Ishi," I heard him saying while his eyes were fixed on me, and my cousin was in his arms.
Wow, what a wonderful scene. I should have recorded this moment, but unlucky me, I don't
have my phone right now.

Now I just want to kill my cousin. Of course, because it looks like she's the one clinging to
him. But his hands are on her waist. Should I kill him for cheating on his beautiful wife like
me?

I was deciding whom I was going to kill first when I saw Rudra walking towards me with a smile plastered on his face, which somehow disgusted me. He opened his arms and was
about to wrap them around me, but before that could happen, someone pulled me.

"Mujhe bina batae kahan chali gai thi aap, Mrs. Suryavanshi?" He said in a low rumble,
laced with both accusations and a hint of something else, something I couldn't quite
decipher. He left my cousin, Mehak, standing there, her eyes narrowed, and came towards
me.

(Where did you without informing me, Mrs. Suryavanshi)

"Will he come and hug me like this if he ever had to choose between me and her?" I kept my
overthinking aside and relaxed for a few seconds, listening to his heartbeats go from fast to slow. The scent of his sandalwood cologne was intoxicating.

I too wrapped my arms around him, my fingers digging into the fabric of his kurta, and glared
at Mehak "you were sleeping, and I didn't want to disturb you" I said, my voice tight. Mehak,
oblivious to the tension, gritted her teeth. 'Jaan nikaal di thi meri,' he whispered against my
hair.

(You had taken my life away)

I raised my head to look at him. The audacity of that woman to kiss my husband in my
absence. I admit she was going to marry him, but now I'm his wife, so she should maintain
her distance as a decent girl. But, what did she do, she kissed him.

Maybe he liked her kissing him, which is why he didn't stop her. I felt a wave of panic wash
over me. What if he was only pretending? What if this was all just a charade? I distanced
myself from him,still holding his wrist.

I moved towards our room straight into the bathroom.If he's mine then he would have to be completely even if it is not for a lifetime or for some more days, months or years.

Picking up his facewash I gave it to him. He looked at me with raised eyebrows "wash your
face" I said in a stern tone leaning on the near wall looking at him through the mirror .

"What's wrong?" He asked, his voice laced with concern. I didn't answer, just continued to
stare at him in the mirror. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken tension. His eyebrows
remained furrowed, his gaze searching for an explanation.

The bathroom was quite big for two people but now, I was feeling weird standing alone with
him. The only sound was the quiet hum of the ventilation fan and the rhythmic beating of my
heart, which felt like a drum in the chest.

Finally, I said, "Just... wash your face," my voice firm despite the tremor in my chest. My
words were a challenge, a test. He took the face wash from me, his fingers brushing against
mine, sending a jolt of electricity through me.

Then, he turned and walked towards the sink, his movements slow and deliberate. He looked at me in the mirror, his gaze lingering on my face, and I felt my breath caught in my throat.

No words were exchanged between us in the whole 40 minutes as I made him wash his face
25 times. He didn't say a single word; he was just looking at me with his dark chocolate
brown eyes, which were clearly telling me that he was not angry. But, why wasn't he? He
should have screamed at me because I was just behaving like a possessive psychopath who
didn't like the touch of someone else's hand on her husband.