Unexpectly Yours:The Journey Of An Arranged Marriage

Part 45

As they returned to Mumbai, the dynamic between Abhay and Kavya shifted slightly. After everything that had happened—from the Aparna incident to the engagement drama and the constant closeness they'd shared—Abhay had come to an undeniable realization: he loved her. But rather than confessing outright, he found himself becoming even more attached, more affectionate. Every moment they spent together, he sought out her presence, finding comfort in her touch, in just being near her.

Kavya, on the other hand, misread his clinginess. She assumed it was still the aftermath of Aparna's betrayal weighing on him. It wasn't that she didn't care—she did, deeply. But she thought his need to stay close was simply him seeking comfort and healing. To her, this was just Abhay's coping mechanism.

One evening, after they'd been home for a few days, Kavya was sitting at the dining table, engrossed in her laptop, responding to emails and catching up on work. Abhay walked up behind her quietly, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and resting his chin on her head.

Abhay: "What are you working on?" 

he asked softly, his voice tinged with an almost childlike affection.

Kavya (without looking up): "Just some emails for the team. You know how it is."

He sighed, but didn't move away. Instead, he pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head and tightened his arms around her, as if pulling her closer to him could somehow alleviate the yearning in his chest.

Kavya glanced up briefly and smiled, but her attention quickly returned to her screen.

Kavya: "You okay?" 

she asked, sensing his restlessness but still unaware of the deeper emotions he was feeling.

Abhay: "Yeah," he murmured. "Just... wanted to be near you."

She gave a light laugh, patting his arm as she tried to focus on her work.

Kavya: "I know. It's been a lot for you, hasn't it?"

Abhay didn't respond at first. He just held her tighter, his face nuzzling into her hair. Her words stung a little, not because she was wrong—he had been through a lot—but because she still didn't realize that his need to be near her wasn't just about the past anymore. It was about the future he wanted with her

********.

Later that night, as they sat on the couch watching a movie, Abhay stretched out, resting his head on Kavya's lap. She absentmindedly ran her fingers through his hair, her eyes still glued to the screen. But Abhay wasn't watching the movie. He was watching her—memorizing every detail of her face, the way her brow furrowed slightly in concentration, the way her fingers gently stroked his hair.

He turned onto his side, wrapping his arms around her waist. Kavya, thinking he was just tired, didn't say anything, though she noticed how he clung to her a little tighter than usual.

Kavya: "You're extra clingy today," 

she teased lightly, glancing down at him with a soft smile.

Abhay: "I just... I need you,"

 he admitted quietly, his voice filled with more weight than usual.

Kavya paused, her fingers freezing in his hair for a moment. She looked down at him, her expression softening.

Kavya: "I know. You've been through a lot."

He sighed inwardly. She still didn't get it. But he wasn't ready to push the issue—not yet. So, he just nodded, closing his eyes and letting the warmth of her presence wash over him.

*******

The next morning, as they were getting ready for the day, Abhay hovered around her again. He helped her with her coffee, stood beside her as she made breakfast, and even followed her into the living room when she went to grab her phone.

Kavya (laughing softly): "Abhi, I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to follow me around like this."

He smiled sheepishly but didn't back off. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her into his chest.

Abhay: "I just... I like being near you."

Kavya (softly chuckling and shaking her head): "You're such a baby sometimes."

********

Over the next few weeks, Abhay's need for closeness with Kavya only grew. It wasn't like the suffocating anxiety he had felt after the Aparna incident—it was softer, gentler, but far more profound. He just wanted to be near her. Sometimes, it felt like he couldn't breathe without her by his side.

One evening, Kavya was sitting on the couch, buried in her work laptop. She had a deadline to meet, and Abhay had been pacing around the house aimlessly. He didn't even realize he was doing it, but his mind wasn't on anything except finding a way to be close to her again. Without saying anything, he flopped onto the couch beside her, stretching out his legs, subtly resting his head on her shoulder.

Kavya (not looking away from the screen): "Hmm... need something?"

Abhay (murmuring against her shoulder): "Just you."

Kavya smiled softly, brushing her fingers through his hair while still typing. Her multitasking was impeccable, and Abhay couldn't help but admire how effortlessly she balanced everything. But he was still craving more attention, more of her, like a moth drawn to the light.

*********

Another day, Kavya was in the kitchen, trying to cook something simple after a long day of work. Abhay, who had been sitting idly in the living room, noticed how busy she seemed. But instead of helping, he slowly wandered into the kitchen, standing behind her, pressing his chest against her back, and wrapping his arms around her waist.

Kavya (laughing as she flipped a chapati): "Abhay, what are you doing? You're in the way!"

Abhay: "I don't care. I just want to be close to you."

Kavya (gently pushing him off): "At least let me finish this, okay? Then you can cling all you want."

He pouted dramatically, leaning against the counter as he watched her, clearly sulking.

Abhay: "You're always so busy. I feel like I have to fight for your attention."

Kavya glanced at him, giving him an amused look.

Kavya: "You don't have to fight for it. You've got me, silly."

But despite her reassurance, Abhay still longed for more. It wasn't that she wasn't attentive—she was—but he wanted her to realize that he needed her in ways that went beyond casual affection.

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