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“Bhabhi, do you have any plans to come inside the house? When will you join us?” Vansh asked eagerly, his voice tinged with anticipation. I glanced over at Krish, who had been watching me intently. He met my gaze, shaking his head with a gentle smile that encouraged me to move forward. Taking a deep breath, I stepped closer, nudging the decorative pot aside, and made my way into the house.
“Now, let’s proceed with the next ritual…” Vansh announced, Krish said cutting in just before Vansh could say anything more.
"Haan, let’s head to the room now. Everyone, please make your way to your rooms and get some rest. Good night!" he said cheerfully, sweeping me off my feet in a classic bridal style. My cheeks flushed with warmth from my shyness, a deep crimson hue creeping over my skin. I could hear the soft chuckles of those around us, trying to stifle their laughter.
“Hold on just a moment, brother,” Abhimanyu interjected, his voice barely containing his amusement. “After marriage, this isn’t the only ritual we’ll be going through; there are many more customs to follow.”
Krish then wrapped his arms around me gently, a tender embrace that sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach before gracefully setting me down at my feet. Both of us stood there, our faces burning with embarrassment, acutely aware of the playful glances and whispers surrounding us.
“Come on, both of you, sit here facing each other,” Papa urged, leading us into the spacious hall. The room was bright and inviting, sunlight streaming through the tall windows and casting warm patterns on the floor. In the centre, two sturdy wooden chairs stood opposite each other, creating an unexpected tension in the air. Between them lay a large, ornate gold plate, its sheen catching the light. It was filled to the brim with fresh milk, delicate rose leaves floating gracefully on the surface.
"We had plans to share a home after the wedding, a fresh start as a married couple. This will be the first family to make the husband and wife sit face to face," Krish remarked, his irritation evident as he collapsed into the chair across from me.
With a mix of curiosity and apprehension, I settled into the second chair, the weight of the moment settling around us like an unseen blanket.
"This is what the game will entail," Vansh declared, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
Ananya chimed in, "We'll place a ring against this target, and your challenge will be to hit that ring."
Aayushi added, her voice tinged with playful mischief, "And the winner will uncover who stands to gain the most in this marriage."
They enthusiastically explained the rules of the game to us, creating an atmosphere filled with excitement and anticipation. Once we began, laughter and joy filled the air, especially since most of my friends were on my team. As the game progressed, Krish handed me the ring, a small but significant gesture that ultimately led to our victory.
After the game, we gathered together, still buzzing from the fun.
"Let's all take a moment to rest; we've been at it for quite a while. The rest of the rasam will wait until tomorrow, and remember, it’s the first kitchen ritual for the two of you," Mother reminded us gently. "Now go on and rest, and Avni, don’t forget to take your medicine."
With those words echoing in my mind, we headed to our rooms, a mix of satisfaction and weariness washing over us. We climbed the stairs, laughter trailing behind us as we made our way to Krish's room, ready to share more stories and unwind after an exhilarating day.
We entered Krish's cosy bedroom, the walls adorned with posters that reflected his interests. He gently gestured for me to sit on his soft bed, the comfort of which enveloped me instantly. After a moment of freshening up, I settled with my laptop, diving into my backlog of work amidst the peaceful atmosphere.
A little while later, Krish returned, a small tray in hand, laden with the medicines I needed. He joined me on the bed, his presence warm and reassuring. After I took the medicine and sipped the cool water he offered, an unexpected wave of tenderness washed over us. He began to caress my neck with his fingers, each gentle stroke sending delightful butterflies fluttering through my body. I couldn't help but giggle at this sweet gesture, but when I opened my eyes, my smile faltered. A shadow crossed Krish's face, tension etched in his features—something was amiss.
In a moment of spontaneity, I rose from the bed and settled onto his lap, feeling his arms wrap securely around my hips, grounding me. I leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, silently hoping to ease whatever burden weighed on his mind.
“What happened, husband?” I asked, a sweet smile dancing on my lips as I leaned closer to him. His gaze seemed distant, lost in thought.
“You didn’t want to marry me?” he suddenly questioned, his voice tinged with an unexpected vulnerability. I raised an eyebrow, puzzled by the sudden drift of our conversation.
“No, it’s not like that at all,” I replied, my heart fluttering with concern.
“What made you think that? Remember, I’m your girl, your Jaan, and your Avni Krish Roy. You’re everything to me.” I leaned in further, searching his eyes for reassurance. The worry must have shown on my face, because he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss on my cheek, his warmth washing over me like a balm.
“When you ran away from the wedding, I felt a surge of panic, unlike anything I’d ever experienced. It wasn’t just the fear of losing you; it was the overwhelming self-loathing that consumed me in that moment. I kept thinking I had somehow pressured you into this marriage, and that thought twisted my insides painfully. It felt as if my heart was in a vice, tightening with every passing second. You were lying on a hospital bed, fighting for your life, and I was convinced it was my fault.”
His voice trembled, cracking under the weight of his emotions. I had never witnessed this level of distress in him before; it was as if the very foundation of his being was shaking.
“Please, stop tormenting yourself with these thoughts,” I urged, trying to infuse warmth into my words.
“I never ran from our wedding. You know how deeply I love you. I’ve dreamed about this day for years. You believe me, don’t you? Just let go of the worry, my husband.”
His brow furrowed, the worry lines deepening as he shot back,
“You didn’t run from our wedding. Then where did you go, Avni?” His eyes were a tumultuous mixture of concern and anger, and that intensity frightened me. Should I confess the truth? The choice weighed heavily on my mind.
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