MY AVERAGE LIFE

Part 80

Shivani Pov:

After the call with my parents, I turned to Sharath, overwhelmed with gratitude and love. Without thinking, I threw my arms around him, burying my face in his chest. "Thank you so much," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion.

His arms wrapped around me, warm and secure as if shielding me from all my worries. "Why are you thanking me, baby?" he murmured into my hair, his tone soft but curious.

I pulled back slightly, just enough to meet his eyes, and gave him a small shake of my head. "For everything, Sharath. For standing by me, for talking to my parents, for..." I trailed off, unable to put into words just how much he meant to me.

He tilted his head, studying me for a moment, before leaning in, his lips inching closer to mine. My breath hitched, and I instinctively placed a hand on his chest to stop him. "I need to go," I said quickly, my voice barely above a whisper.

He groaned, a low, exaggerated whine that made my heart skip a beat. "You always stop me," he complained, pouting like a child. A giggle escaped me before I could stop it. He looked so adorably frustrated that I couldn't resist laughing at him. "I won't stop you on our wedding night," I said, my voice tinged with shyness.

The words barely left his lips before I felt the heat rush to my cheeks. His eyes sparkled with amusement as a wicked grin spread across his face. 

Embarrassed, I swatted his arm, and he chuckled, the sound rich and warm. Moments like this made my heart feel impossibly full.

The drive to my parents' house felt shorter than usual, probably because Sharath kept stealing glances at me, his playful smirk firmly in place. When we arrived, I wasted no time rushing inside, where my mother was waiting. I hugged her tightly, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude.

"Thank you, Amma," I said, my voice filled with sincerity. "Thank you for accepting him."My father stood nearby, nodding quietly. I could see the reservations still lingering in his eyes, but his acceptance of Sharath meant everything to me.

Just as I was about to breathe a sigh of relief, my father's voice cut through the room. "Now, listen carefully," he began, his tone firm. "From this moment until the wedding, you two will not meet."

"What?" Sharath and I said simultaneously. I turned to him, noticing the shock on his face that mirrored my own.

"Yes," my father continued, his expression unyielding. "You will be separated until the wedding day. It's my condition."

Sharath's mouth fell open, and I braced myself for what I knew was coming. "But, sir—" he started, his tone edging on disbelief. "Why? That's completely unnecessary!"

"I want to marry my daughter on my terms," my father replied coolly. His words left no room for argument, but that didn't stop Sharath.

"This isn't fair!" Sharath protested, his frustration bubbling over." Who told you to plan a wedding in a week without our permission?" my father shot back, his expression smug. "Now, suffer the consequences."

Sharath glanced at me, his lips pressed into a thin line. I met his gaze with a pleading look, silently urging him to let it go. After a long moment, he sighed heavily and muttered under his breath, "He's doing this on purpose. It's revenge."

I couldn't help the small laugh that escaped me, and even my father smirked before walking away.

As the reality of the separation sank in, I turned to Sharath, who was still fuming. His frustration melted into sadness as he pulled me into a tight hug. "Baby, I'm going to miss you so much," he murmured, his voice muffled against my hair.

I clung to him just as tightly, feeling the sting of his words in my own heart. "I'll miss you too," I whispered. "But we'll video call every day."

He groaned dramatically. "It's not the same."

I pulled back slightly and cupped his face in my hands. "Don't whine," I teased gently, brushing my thumbs over his cheeks. "I'll pamper you, okay? Now, be good."

His lips twitched, the faintest hint of a smile appearing. "Fine," he relented, though his tone was far from convincing.

Before leaving, he hugged me again, this time burying his face in the crook of my neck. He inhaled deeply, his breath warm against my skin. "You'll pay for this on our wedding night," he murmured, his voice low and full of promise.

My cheeks flamed instantly, and I pulled away, unable to meet his gaze. He chuckled at my reaction, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead before finally leaving.

As the door closed behind him, I turned to find my mother watching me with a knowing smile. "Amma!" I exclaimed, my face heating up again as I rushed past her.

The next day marked the start of the wedding preparations, and they were nothing short of chaotic. Sharath, true to his word, managed to handle everything with precision and efficiency. He coordinated with caterers, decorators, and family members, ensuring that every detail was perfect.

From the *pelli kuthuru* ceremony, where turmeric was applied to my skin amidst laughter and blessings, to the grand arrangements for the *mehendi* function, everything felt magical. The house buzzed with excitement as my relatives poured in, their voices filling every corner with warmth.

Sharath wasn't present physically, but his presence was felt in every detail. He sent me pictures of the outfits he selected, double-checked the venue arrangements, and even made sure my favorite flowers were included in the decorations.

The night before the wedding, I found myself sitting on the swing in our backyard, staring at the moon. My phone buzzed, and I smiled, already knowing who it was.

"Baby," Sharath's voice came through the speaker, soft and full of longing. "Tomorrow, you'll be mine."

"I'm already yours," I whispered, my heart full. His chuckle was deep and warm. "Get some rest, love. Tomorrow, I'll make you my queen."