Under My Body

chapter nine

        It had been two weeks since that night, the one that still haunted my thoughts. The memory of it clung to me like a stubborn fog, wrapping itself around every quiet moment, refusing to let go. I couldn't believe I almost kissed Asher. Or maybe he almost kissed me? The lines between what happened and what could have happened were so blurred, I wasn't sure anymore.

The way his fingers had brushed my cheek, pushing that stray curl away from my face... His hands were large, rough yet gentle, and the sensation of his touch had left my skin tingling long after he walked away. And those eyes. The intensity in his gaze had pinned me in place, left me breathless. I could still feel the ghost of his breath on my lips, so close that if I had just leaned in a fraction, I would have kissed him. My stomach twisted at the thought, a mix of regret, longing, and confusion.

"Are you okay in there, miss?" The voice pulled me abruptly from my thoughts. I blinked, focusing on the present, on the dressing room I was standing in.

"Ah y-yes! I am okay," I stammered, shaking off the lingering memories.

I stood in front of the mirror at Saree House, a small yet vibrant shop in the heart of Toronto. It was the kind of place that felt like home the moment you walked in. The air was filled with the scent of fresh fabric and the soft rustling of silk. Rows of colorful sarees lined the walls, each one more beautiful than the last. It wasn't just a saree shop; they also sold intricate Indian jewelry and offered custom blouse tailoring. It was a one-stop shop for everything you needed to feel like royalty.

Ratha and Oliver's wedding was in just three weeks, and with everything that had been happening, I had nearly forgotten to get something for myself. My work had consumed me, my thoughts even more so, leaving little room for anything else. It was crazy how fast time had flown. It felt like I had just arrived in Toronto, and yet here I was, a 2 weeks later, standing in this shop, trying on sarees.

I wondered how Ratha was feeling. She must have been going through a whirlwind of emotions, yet she seemed so calm, so composed. I admired that about her, how she managed to stay so centered even when everything around her was chaotic. Meanwhile, I was a mess, my mind a jumble of what-ifs and maybes, my heart torn between wanting to move on and being stuck in the past.

I turned my back to the mirror, letting the plum purple saree cascade down my frame. The saree was simple yet elegant, the kind of simplicity that spoke volumes. The deep, rich plum contrasted beautifully with the white border, which was adorned with delicate designs in soft, muted colors. I loved it instantly.

Stepping out of the dressing room, I approached the girl who had been helping me. She looked up and smiled brightly. "The color was made for you, miss!"

I felt my cheeks warm at the compliment. "Thank you, and please, call me Malarvilli," I replied with a shy smile.

We then began discussing how I wanted my blouse to be designed. I described a low back, with thin strings that would let me tie it behind, giving it a graceful yet modern touch. The front would have a subtle, low cut, not too revealing but enough to make a statement. She took down my measurements with practiced ease, sketching out the design as I described it. Her pencil moved quickly, bringing my vision to life on the page.