The Unwanted Royal Marriage

42. The weeds are out.

Adhyay's pov

After we finished preparing lunch—simple chicken rice bowl and vegetable soup  with a hint of spice, just the way she liked it—we set the table together. Meera insisted on pouring the juice, but not before giving me an exaggerated glare when I teased her about her questionable chopping skills earlier.

As we sat down to eat, the sunlight streaming through the large windows gave the room a warm glow. She picked at her food with an expression that made me suspicious.

"What's wrong? You don't like it?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

She looked up, startled. "No, it's perfect! Just..." she trailed off, a sly grin forming on her lips.

"Just what?" I prodded, narrowing my eyes.

"I think it's missing one ingredient," she said, trying to suppress her laughter.

I leaned forward, curious. "And what's that?"

She suddenly leaned over the table, planting a quick kiss on my lips. "Love," she said, giggling as she sat back in her chair.

For a second, I was caught off guard, then shook my head with a smile. "You're unbelievable," I said, my voice filled with affection.

"That's why you married me," she replied smugly, twirling a forkful of Rice.

We finished lunch amid lighthearted conversation and teasing. Afterward, I insisted on cleaning up, but she wouldn't have it.

"You cooked; I clean," she declared, gathering the plates.

I leaned against the counter, watching her. "You're really trying to win this great wife title, aren't you?"

She turned to me with a raised eyebrow. "Trying? Adhyay, I've already won it."

I couldn't argue with that.

Once the kitchen was spotless, we moved to the living room. Meera plopped onto the couch, looking content. I sat beside her, pulling her close.

"What do you want to do for the rest of the day?" I asked, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

She thought for a moment before smiling mischievously. "How about we watch a movie? Something romantic."

I groaned playfully. "Romantic? You're really going to make me sit through two hours of cheesy dialogue and over-the-top drama?"

"Absolutely," she said, poking my side. "Besides, I like seeing your reactions. You act like you hate it, but I know you secretly enjoy it."

She wasn't wrong.

With her head resting on my shoulder and my arm around her, we spent the afternoon watching her choice of movie—one filled with exaggerated declarations of love and dramatic reunions. But as I glanced down at her laughing at a particularly ridiculous scene, I realized something.

No matter how cheesy the movie, no matter how simple the day, every moment with her felt perfect.

he afternoon sun was warm, and Meera had dozed off on the couch, her head resting on my lap. Her serene face made my heart swell, but my mind was already racing with ideas. She'd once mentioned—offhandedly, but with a sparkle in her eye—that bungee jumping was on her bucket list.

"Bungee jumping, huh?" I murmured to myself, careful not to wake her as I gently brushed a strand of hair from her face.

She had no idea what I was planning. This honeymoon was meant to be full of surprises, and I wasn't about to stop with the first one.