𝘬𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘬𝘢-𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘊𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘯 𝘉𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘦

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫-2

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Mature content

Kasika pov

Eight weeks had passed, and the naming ceremony for our sons, Arthik and Kartavya, went smoothly. We were happy with their new names.

Also, Devar-sa's wedding took place, and all the rituals went as planned.

  ..

The first 8 weeks since the birth of our sons. They had grown so much, and I knew that our lives would never be the same.

I returned to their chamber, hearing the sound of our younger son, Arthik, crying. He was more fussy than his older brother. I entered and gently patted his back, trying to soothe him.

Soon after, yuvraj entered the chamber and took Kartavya into his arms. Kartavya was a calm and quiet baby, just like me, while Arthik seemed to inherit his father's energetic and vocal nature.

I watched as yuvraj effortlessly comforted our younger son, bouncing him gently and making calming shushing sounds. I smiled at the sight of my husband interacting with our children, feeling a sense of contentment and love.

"It seems like Arthik has your energy and volume, and Kartavya has my calmness," he commented, a hint of amusement in his voice.

I teased my husband, saying, "Is that so? Seems like our sons have taken after us quite well."

He laughed lightly but avoided meeting my gaze for more than a few minutes. I knew why. The birth of our sons had brought many changes to our lives, including more responsibilities and less alone time for us. And if I'm not wrong then my husband is avoiding me.

He then asked "bhojan kiya apne?"

I answered with a smile, "bhojan? Ham akele bhojan nhi karte pta haina apko."

He looked a bit guilty at my response. He knew that he had been busy with his duties and hadn't been spending much time with me lately.

"Hume maaf karde titli" he said apologetically. "I've been so caught up with work that I hadn't realized that you hadn't eaten yet. Let's have our meals together now."

I smiled, reassured by his apology. I knew that it was challenging to balance our roles as parents and spouses now, but I was happy that he still prioritised our time together.

We sat down together to share a meal. I looked at him with a hint of playfulness in my eyes, silently imploring him to feed me. He chuckled and obliged, gently feeding me bite by bite.

We ate together in silence.

After we finished our meal, I stood up and went to change into a lightweight lehanga. It was a comfortable outfit for the night, allowing me to move around easily and attend to the needs of our sons if they woke up.

As I changed out of my normal clothes.

I walked out of the changing room to our main chamber the scent of sandalwood and jasmine filled my nostrils, reminiscent of our wedding night. The moonlight filtered through the intricate lattice work of the windows, casting dancing shadows on the silk curtains.

My husband, the Yuvraj, was seated by the window, his broad shoulders hunched, staring out at the moonlit garden. His usually expressive face was an unreadable mask. As I entered, he stiffened, his hand tightening around the parchment he had been reading.

"Yuvraj," I called softly, my voice carrying the authority of a queen and the concern of a wife. "You are avoiding me." It was not a question but a statement. The room was heavy with unspoken words, the air thick with unshed truths.