Trishalini ~ The Jewel of Mahabaleshgarh

92 ~ Whispers Of Love

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Trishalini POV

"We did, Maasa," the kids answered and laid back on the bed, pulling the comforters up, and I immediately pulled it and said.

"Come on, I know you are lying. Take out your books and finish your homework," I said, and they both immediately ran from the bed to their father.

"Baapusa, we have finished it. Tell Maasa," Harsh said, and Yash hid behind him.

"We will sleep with you in your chamber," Yash said, and I pushed my hair behind and walked towards them.

"Sleep in whoever's chamber you want, but first finish your work," I said, and they both jumped into his lap.

"Let's go, Baapusa. We will sleep with you," Harsh said, shaking his head.

"I am sleeping with your mother tonight. So, if you want to sleep alone, you can go, or if you want to sleep with me and her, finish your homework," he said, and I inhaled deeply.

"Did you two listen to what he said?" I asked and held their hands.

"Come on, bring your notebooks," I said, and they both gritted their teeth and glared at him.

"Do not give me looks," he said and added. "Listen to whatever she says,"

I sat down beside me, watching them angrily going to bring their books.

"Trisha," he called suddenly, and I gulped silently before looking at him.

"Ji?" I asked, and he stared silently at me, his intense red eyes staring into mine.

I immediately lowered my gaze, feeling a tightness in my chest.

"Are you angry with me?" he asked, and I looked up before shaking my head.

"Why would I be?" I asked, and the kids came back running. I immediately pulled them up to make them sit between us.

"What did your Guruji ask you to learn?" I asked, and they opened their books and said.

"Counting. We are learning to count," Harsh said, showing me his beautiful handwriting.

"Yes, Maasa, do you know Guruji said that after we learn after a thousand, we can count our soldiers," Yash said, and Harsh stood on the couch and turned my face to him. Their hands were still tiny.

"Maasa, you know we have seventeen friends," he said, and I smiled.

"Really?" I asked and looked at him.

"Yes, and you have two beautiful eyes, two lips, one nose, two ears, two hands—"

"How many hairs do you have?" I asked, cutting him off, and he knit his brows.

"Hair?" he asked, and I laughed.

I helped them revise the counting and made them repeat it twice while he stared silently at me.

I knew he wanted to talk, but I did not understand why I did not feel like it.

And what should we talk about?

What I had with my work and babies was precious. And I did not want to put anything at stake now. I could not risk this precious life.

He never understood me, and he never would.

Honestly, I wanted to tell him many times, but every time he moved his steps away from me, every time he chose to stay away from me, every time he showed his anger toward me, I felt like he would not listen to me. He would not understand.